( Haven’t read parts 1-3? Click here before reading this : https://galaserks.com/2020/08/10/deaths-secret/ )
There are several photos of women. Women wearing the lingerie I found tucked in the suitcase. As I flip through them, I notice something they each have in common. They have look similar to mine. Long hair curly hair, medium/dark complexion, full lips, high cheekbones, almond eyes, full bodied. Nine. Nine photos in total. I stand up from my knees and walk around. Searching for a particular place inside the cabin. Each girl sat in a chair dressed in heels and face painted with makeup. Is this some sort of a fetish? I’m not the only one he brought here. Why would she leave this for me? In the corner of one photo is the suitcase. I head back to the second bedroom. I place the photos on the bed, pull out the case and unzip it. On top lay a two-page letter. It reads:
Dear Monica,
I can’t wait to see you again. I miss your smile, the way you sip your coffee. I love how you cross and uncross your legs when you get uncomfortable. I love you. I want to spoil you, share moments in bed with you, take care of you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take your hand in marriage. Please say you’ll be mine. Sincerely, yours.
I separate the paper, expecting to see the continuation on the other side, only it’s blank. The other paper had different handwriting. It was clear that a woman wrote it, the penmanship is delicate. It reads:
To whom it may concern,
Please do not send me another letter. This is my second time responding to you and it will be my last. I am not interested in getting to know a stranger. If you send me anything else, I will give it to the Police and have them deal with you. I have given you a fair warning. It’s clear you don’t want to be found, as your postal address is one of a P.O. Box. Just so that we are clear, the police can track you down even with that. Get some help and leave me alone.
My mind is racing. This man, the man of my dreams, a stalker. Could she be Monica, the last woman to be brought here? The murderous woman left me here with a stalker! Why would she leave these things and why not take me with her?
Francis. The man with the answers is clinging onto life. This whole situation is making me sick. I rush to bathroom, falling into the toilet to relieve myself from illness. I calculate my options. If I leave him, he is surly going to die. If I find my phone, I can save us both. I most certainly don’t want his death on my hands. He probably hid the phones in the same place as the keys and whomever that woman was, has taken them. I flush the toilet and give my hands a wash.
~~~~
10:03 a.m.
I have a seat beside Francis with the letters and photos. His eyes barely open at this point. Blood was coming from his face. He’d been cut at the mouth, though it seems to be clotting a little. He’s not going to live much longer. I search him again to find his gunshot wound, in a much calmer state of mind, now that the emanate danger is no longer looming over my mind. The blood is coming from somewhere, but where? In the kitchen, I grab the scissors from the butcher’s block. I proceed to cut open his blood drenched shirt, revealing his midriff. The bullet hole is just below his ribs on the left. My face becomes wet with tears. I am confused and filled with concern. I lean into him and brush his brow with my thumb. I place my hand against his face and smile. To be the comfort to him during the last moments of his life is the least I can be. I will be walking away from this situation, as he is going to die here.
Francis looks at me through the small slits of his eyes. He moans again, barely audible. His life seems to be gone. I begin to sob aloud.
The sounds of a car approaching cause my heart to sink. The anxiety is back. She’s coming back to kill me.
(To be continued)
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If you need something else to read, check out the completed short series “Tears of Red” https://galaserks.com/2020/02/12/tears-of-red-episode-1/
Gala Serks 