Chelsea's Doom

Page 110

Chelsea kept extremely still, barring the muffled whimper betraying a new anxiety. She was afraid to move, utterly terrified to shift those few muscles controlling her speech, even enough to gurgle beneath the tape. She was in company of a madman! What else could possibly explain why his moods kept changing so erratically?

Mike filled her ears with sweet, sugared honey. The change to a rich, silky alto increased her nervousness. “I’ll explain just exactly what can happen, Sweetheart.”

The persona had definitely altered, there was serious reason to fear him now. Something was coming. It would happen soon and it was going to be extremely unpleasant. She tensed and waited, fearing the next few moments and what they might hold.

Heavy fingers wandered freely over her body as he whispered a voice overly-smooth, utterly corrupt. “If you were lucky this strap would break your neck and cause instant death or perhaps paralyzation. Either way, you’d feel little pain.”

Mike paused to let his words sink in before continuing, effectively suffocating her senses. “Now it might happen this way, too. You would pull it tighter and tighter around your throat, slowly, ever so slowly cutting off your own supply of oxygen, smothering yourself to bring about, virtually, the same result. It would be a horrible, agonizing, slow way to die.”

A stream of warm air traveled the inside of her ear. “You can see, Sweetheart, I do offer the best advice when I encourage you to lay very still and avoid sitting up until I return.”

Page 70

She murmured a prayer before pushing 911, holding her breath while waiting for the ring. It suddenly hurt to breathe. She tensed, unable to release the breath caught deep in her chest. The phone failed to ring through. Hitting the cancel button brought no dial tone. What--? Why--? It was a phone, damn it! Now work! 

She wanted to scream curses she was so frustrated. She had risked everything for nothing! The phone just would not work! ‘God!  Where the hell are you?’

She wanted to scream outloud. ‘Damn it, God! I never asked for a free handout! I did my part! I pulled my weight! Now damn it! Please... Oh God, please! Please help me!’ 

Her fingers clenched the phone and receiver, though she had to admit the instrument was indeed useless. She went limp with fear and uncertainty.  What now? Could she sneak it back without getting caught?

Page 247

She didn’t hear the elevator when it settled or Leon move stealthily through the apartment. She wasn’t aware he hovered over the sofa, his mouth falling in an evil grin. And she didn’t know he stood watching her writhe on the floor, suffering unbelievable agony, or that he was arrogantly smug about finding her in such a miserable state.

Leon moved to the front of the sofa, sinking down on his heels to watch a moment more before reaching forward to lift a lock of her honey-brown hair, gently brushing the face so contorted with pain.

“Are you sick, baby? Guess ya should’a been a little nicer to ol’ Leon. Should’a thought ahead a bit, don’t ya think, Chels? I did warn you, you know, several times I believe. You just never caught on.”

Chelsea buried her face deeper into the carpet, unwilling to face the guard yet unable to resist throwing an accusation of her own. “You-- poisoned-- me.”

Leon gasped, his expression an exaggerated affront. “Poisoned? You think I poisoned you?”

The feigned innocence dissolved, morphing to amused chuckle. “Yeah. Poisoned. Right... Um-- relax, baby. It’s almost over. At least for you. Everything ends soon. Each in its own season.”