by Amanda Grace
When Aidan introduced Phoebe to them, she instantly reached her hand to the girls. Unfortunately, none of them wanted to shake her hand. Marcus, however, is generous enough to kiss her hand. She figured among the three children of Aidan, Marcus is the one she can please easily.
Aidan and Phoebe tried reaching the twins but still, harsh things are the one being thrown at them. She looked at Aidan but Aidan just tried calming her down by smiling. Like he said, everything will work out.
To make the girls feel comfortable with Phoebe around, Aidan offered them to eat their dinner upstairs, where they have a room with a balcony overseeing the Eiffel Tower. Aidan thought the Eiffel Tower will inspire the girls, which may change their mood over Phoebe.
Aidan told them he will just talk to the chef and manager to bring the food upstairs. Phoebe already sensed that the twins don't like her. She just pretended like she doesn't notice it and proceed trying to reach Aidan's daughters.
When Phoebe heard that Aidan will talk to the chef and manager, she took this as a sign to just leave. She made an excuse of going to the ladies' room. She walked away together with Aidan.
"What are you doing?", Aidan asked him after walking a far from their table.
"Aidan, I can't do this. The girls hate me.", she said and she already started crying.
"No, of course they will act like this. I told you. But don't worry, when we get upstairs, they will change. It will all be better. I'm sure, right now, Marcus is there doing his job, talking to his sisters.", Aidan's comfort to Phoebe, "You were amazing back there. I love you. Thank you.", he added.
"Thanks, Aidan. Marcus is such a nice guy. I need a few minutes. I'm having a panick attack. Can I just go outside to grab some air. I'm really nervous.", Phoebe told him.
"Phoebs, you're not thinking of going home, right?", Aidan asked him.
"I'm really sorry, Aidan.", she said crying and walking away. Aidan was left there heartbroken. Because he wanted this dinner to happen, even without Phoebe, he still continued his plan talking to the chef and manager.
Phoebe ran as fast as she could. She couldn't handle the pressure. Aidan's children were just so.. reserved. While running, she dropped her purse and all of a sudden, her things went flying the ground.
This stopped Phoebe from running. It's been already a few minutes since she ran away from the restaurant. While picking up her things, she found herself kneeling near the Eiffel Tower. She had never looked at this tower like she did before.
She hurriedly gathered her things, and sat to the nearest bench she could find. She made a deep blown breath, and then gazed back at the Eiffel Tower. When she was still starting her early days as a performer, she always makes it a point to take a glance at the tower. It inspires her.. to love and to believe.
It took her half an hour looking at the tower and the people who are staring at it like she did. She started thinking about her life, she has been in a relationship where she's being abused and manipulated. Her relationship was probably the most traumatic and problematic.
However, things all started changing when she met Aidan. For the first time in her life, someone can finally look in her eyes and tell her he loves her.. and mean it. For the first time, someone wanted to sleep and spend the day with her after making love. For the first time, someone is willing to sacrifice everything for her.
And then she wondered how many guys like Aidan will she meet? That is where she was stunned. There is no other man like Aidan. Some may be close enough, but she doubts of ever finding herself one again.
She wiped her tears and ran back the restaurant. The four are probably in the room by now, so she will just go upstairs to say sorry to Aidan and be with his children no matter what. She loves Aidan so much, and she is willing to take all the necessary hits.
Aidan's girls must have thought she is a gold digger. She can tell the two must have judged her quickly. This is why she needs to come back. She needs to explain her side and to prove that she really loves Aidan. She is never interested about his fortune. She just really wants to be with Aidan. She has no bad intentions whatsoever.
Phoebe reached the restaurant again, but this time, she just wanted to ask for Aidan's room number or if someone can accompany her in there.
"Hi, I'm looking for Aidan Shaw. I was with them a while ago, we were supposed to have dinner but he decided to go upstairs where we can eat in his room. Can you tell me what room he is? Or better yet, can someone accompany me in that room?", she asked politely.
"Oh, you're Miss Phoebe. I am one of your fans. I watched your play last month. Let me see, I think Mr. Shaw and his children are still in the table. They did not went upstairs. Do you want me to.."
"No, oh no.. I'm fine. I think I remember where the table is.", she said.
Upon walking, she could already see the faces of the three. She felt anxious, and her heart started to beat horrifically… however, she still continued sitting there. She wanted to ask 'Where is your father? Where is Aidan?', she was expecting him having the dinner in the room.. But instead, she made a big gulp from the glass of water in front of her.
"Excuse me, Sir Marcus.", the manager of the restaurant came in their table.
"Yes, we're still waiting for our father to come back.", Marcus replied.
"I know, Sir. But Mr. Shaw talked to our staff to bring the food upstairs because you are planning to eat in your room instead, to see the Eiffel Tower. He told us he still needs to get the check in his room, but he never came back.. We checked the room and we found Mr. Shaw… in the floor. He was shot. We already called the ambulance and…"
All of them stood upon hearing what he said. The girls even cried and Marcus was paralyzed for quite some time. They didn't see it coming.. And I believe they were all unprepared.
5 THE CONVERSATION
Phoebe came back with her tears going. She still couldn't believe Aidan died right in front of her eyes. She didn't even told him how much she values him, how much she loves him, how much she appreciates him. Phoebe walked slowly, trying her best to talk to Aidan's children.
She knew the three would hate her because they probably had a fight with the girls, right after she left. Even though it still hurts, she gathered enough courage to give sympathy and condolences.
She went back to the room, and she saw people asking questions and investigating the crime. She walked near them. All of them looked at her with such disgrace.
"You!!! You killed him!!!", Sarah yelled at her.
What?! Is she suddenly being accused of killing the man she loves? No this can't be true.
"It's you! We know! You gold digging slut!", Vanessa also yelled at her.
"Calm down, calm down! You two are being too incautious with your words. Don't accuse her. She was with us!", Marcus tried calming her sisters. Even at the end, he still defends Phoebe.
"Open your eyes, Marc! She was gone for about an hour! She killed dad!", Sarah yelled and Vanessa even tried pulling Phoebe's hair, but Marcus was there to stop the twins.
Phoebe was paralyzed for a minute. She slowly moved away where there are no people. The detective wanted to talk to her but, instead, she refused and asked her to give some time to be alone and grieve for Aidan.
She couldn't believe she was being accused by Aidan's daughter. She could go to jail because no one saw her running away. She could also lose her career because of this issue, but she could only care less. She was hurt. Those girls clearly don't know her, and have jumped into conclusions that were completely baseless.
She cried herself out. It was too painful seeing the one you love die in your bare eyes, and now being accused with such a crime you didn't even do.. Hell, a crime you didn't even thought of doing.
After a few minutes, the policemen left, and the twins were there with their Uncle. Marcus was kind enough to stay and fix everything for his father. Phoebe was able to compose herself.
"I'm sorry about what happened.", Marcus told Phoebe, "My father really loved you. He did, really. I
know because he told me.. and he made me see it.", Marcus teared a bit in her side.
"I know.", Phoebe cried once more, "But I want to tell you, I didn't do it! I swear to God, Marcus, I didn't do it. I won't even dare to hurt your father. I love him too.", Phoebe explained and Marcus just gave her a hug.
"I know. My father is a smart man, I don't think he will ever love a woman who will just kill him in the end.", Marcus whispered.
"Are they going to arrest me?", Phoebe finally asked.
"No. One of the waiters saw you leave the restaurant. They told a policeman which is why the detective didn't harassed you to answer some questions. He knows it was not you, and he wanted to give you time to grieve with us.", Marcus told them, "There are also CCTVs in the hotel, so I'm sure my father will have justice in no time. Some friends also expressed help and support for us to attain justice. Whoever that bastard is, I'm really sure he'll pay for this.", Marcus promise to her, "You should go. Take some rest. Tomorrow is another day, and I can assure you, I will do everything I could just so this won't affect your career. My father really loved you.. I'm sorry about my sisters; they were just hurt. Please try to understand. I'll let you know when's the burial, but I think it would be in New York.", Marcus explained; Phoebe can still see the pain in his eyes.
"Thank you Marcus.", Phoebe said, followed by a kiss in his forehead, "Your parents are very proud of you.", she lingered.
THE END
MYSTERY :
(FREE BOOK)
Brutal Slayings
(7 BOOKS SERIES)
COLD EXIST 1
Summary
This is an exclusive story that starts with the intriguing murder of a man called Johann Christoff who was an admirer of fallen war hero’s, He had ritualistically visited the city's catacombs, paying homage to the fallen soldiers and heroes on every third Sunday, as the desire of his father and since his passing almost fourteen years prior. He had come to quickly learn and memorize the intricate maze of tunnels in the catacombs. With each step the rhythmic harmony of the chanting grew louder. He fought the urge to call out into the darkness, instead steadily and silently moving deeper into the blackness that was the abyss. He saw three men in black robes, tied at the waist with a red rope belt, sat kneeling on the floor, their hoods pulled back and off their heads. They rocked in unison as they repeated their dreary chant. Two swords lay crossed in the middle of the floor; a ring of red dust encircled them. In three equidistant spots around the circle, three sets of six inverted crosses had been drawn on the dusty ground. Darkness consumed him, his body falling limp. When Johann awoke, he had been stripped of his clothes and tightly bound at the wrists and ankles to a large ceremonial table. These men made a declaration after which they killed Johann but little did the whole town know what was coming for them as they found Johann's headless naked body lay in a pool of crimson blood on the floor. His legs having been bound, arms spread, forming an inverted cross. His torso had been expertly carved and hollowed from just below his ribcage to his pelvis. A set of rudimentary symbols had been branded on his sternum – a triangle with a six bordering each side. At his feet sat a small wooden crate, atop which sat his severed head. On the floor a short message had been written, each letter having been painted in blood, "We are of one deity, of love and hate, of birth and death. This is how we preach."
Brutal Slayings COLD EXIST
The early morning sky was a brilliant mix of deep oranges and yellows to the east, and deep tumultuous blues and purples to the west, where the waning crescent moon hung low on the mountainous horizon. The cool autumn breeze danced gracefully amongst the aspens, the leaves rustling in excitement. The faint, lonely song of a lark gently wound through the thick mountainous forests. The mountainside was painted in shades of fiery reds and gold’s as fall took hold and the leaves began to change. High above the tree line, a thin layer of snow had fallen overnight, capping the rugged and windswept mountains in a delicate veil of white.
Far below in the valley a small village sat alongside a tumbling creek, untouched by time, as if forgotten, surrounded by emerald fields dotted with beautiful patches of wild purple and blue violets. Small brick houses dotted the cobblestone streets, their sod roofs dripping from the morning dew. In the centre of town the old cathedral stood tall, its gothic spire, stained black with time, reaching skyward. Statues and fountains of long dead heroes and oft-recounted battles lined the maze of streets.
Silently a young man, no older than twenty-three or –five, walked through the city's narrow winding lanes. His name was Johann Christoff. He walked slightly hunched over concealing his true height, his long brown hair pulled back into a tight tail. Despite his lack of shoes he quickly and surefootedly made his way around the wet cobblestone. He wore brown leather pants rolled to just below the knees. His white shirt was tucked securely into his waistline, revealing a rather decorative leather belt. His brown vest flapped open with his brisk pace.
Upon reaching the town's main square, he paused briefly before a bronze statue, tarnished green with age. It was that of a fallen war hero, his horse rearing in fear, his sabre drawn, leading the charge. Carefully the young man ran his fingers over the statue's aged base plate. For just a moment he laid his head to rest against the large tarnished plaque. With a gentle sigh, and one final glance at the figure, he continued across the town's main square toward the entrance of the hamlet's cathedral.
The heavy iron clad doors of the minster slowly swung open, the hinges straining and groaning under the weight, the whining echoing on the morning breeze. Gracefully he slipped through the small aperture, closing the door carefully behind himself. The cavernous expanse of the cathedral resounded in its silence. The large stained glass rose windows behind the altar painted the grey stone in fantastic multitude of colours. Statues of the saints surrounded a large crucifix rising from the altar. Two rows of columns flanked the nave, rising in support of the ribbed and vaulted frescoed ceiling.
Silently Johann bowed his head and offered a quick prayer before making his way toward the far wall. He strained slightly as he pulled on the rusted iron ring of a heavy wooden door. Silently it swung open, the cool air from below washing over him. He had ritualistically visited the city's catacombs, paying homage to the fallen soldiers and heroes on every third Sunday, as the desire of his father and since his passing almost fourteen years prior. He had come to quickly learn and memorize the intricate maze of tunnels in the catacombs.
As he made his way down the narrow stairwell, he noted that the torches had been lit leading down the winding passage, an unusual occurrence, as he was normally required to light at least one to carry with him into the darkness below. Carefully he made his way down the circular, and unpredictable stone steps. The light of the torches danced wildly upon the walls as he made his way lower into the depths.
Finally he reached the bottom of the long staircase, and no more torches lit the way, just darkness. Pulling the last torch from its perch, he entered the catacombs, ensuring to wave the flaming log in front of him as he walked. Immediately he was greeted with by the unusually dry musty air. As he made his way deeper into the tunnels, he passed rooms filled from floor to ceiling with bones. In some rooms skulls had been arranged into crosses, bones stacked around them to hold them in place. Other rooms housed the ornate sarcophaguses of priests and bishops, still others of soldiers, generals, and heroes.
As he instinctively made his way through the labyrinth of tunnels he began to hear a faint chanting echoing throughout the darkness. Startled he paused; no one was supposed to have been in this infernal maze at this hour. Orienting himself toward the noise he ducked under a low arch, and began down another dark tunnel. From the shadows behind him, a man dressed in a dark hooded robe emerged and began to silently follow.
With each step the rhythmic harmony of the chanting grew louder. He fought the urge to call out into the darkness, instead steadily and silently moving deeper into the blackness that was the abyss.
Round
ing a corner, he could see the flickering of torchlight from up ahead. The unpredictable light bounced around in the narrow hallway. The chanting was more recognizable now, a single verse, three lines of Latin – repeated over and over again.
Cautiously he approached the doorway, wearily peeking around the corner. Three men in black robes, tied at the waist with a red rope belt, sat kneeling on the floor, their hoods pulled back and off their heads. They rocked in unison as they repeated their dreary chant. Two swords lay crossed in the middle of the floor; a ring of red dust encircled them. In three equidistant spots around the circle, three sets of six inverted crosses had been drawn on the dusty ground.
As he stood trying to decipher the ungodly ritual, two hands grabbed him from behind. One wrapped tightly around his neck, the other held a rag over his mouth and nose, the rotten odour causing him to instantly gag. He tried to fight, to scream, but with each breath he felt weaker, his ears beginning to ring. Dizziness began to overwhelm him. A raspy voice whispered in his ear, "Noli timere tenebras."
He began to slump, unable to hold his own weight. His eyelids grew heavy as he struggled to stay conscious. The three men from the room now stood before him, their hoods pulled back over their heads. Each stood with their hands pressed into the shape of a triangle held at chest height. Darkness consumed him, his body falling limp.
When Johann awoke, he had been stripped of his clothes and tightly bound at the wrists and ankles to a large ceremonial table. Groggy and confused he called out, the echo resounding through the empty catacombs. The four men silently surrounded the table, their heads bowed. Panic set in as he fought and struggled against his bindings.
"He has spoken," the four men mumbled in perfect unison. "The time has come, the sacrificial lamb awaits. He shall receive His bounty." One of the hooded men pulled a sword from its sheath.