Her Story on Paper

Prologue - If only there was a choice

'I didn't mean to kill her', that was the first thing that came to my mind once I saw her lifeless body and the blood on my hands. But was it true? Did I really not mean to kill her? After all it was her, the woman who murdered him. Perhaps the real reason I thought of that is rather because I didn't want to be called a murderer, but deep down I was both proud and happy with the crime I had committed. While I was thinking all of this, the sound of sirens approached. I cursed under my breath, I hadn't thought this trough. Her yells must have warned the neighbours who called the police as result. I was petrified, all the evidence pointed to me. What was I going to do? But this wasn't the time to freeze, but rather to flee. Make a run for it. That's the most logical thing to do, right?

"Yes, it is." I heard a deep dark voice from behind me. I gulped. 'Who was that? How did they know what I was thinking?' I was scared, but still turned... No one. Not a single person. Was I going mad.

"No, you're not."

This time I wasn't going to miss the face of the person. My reflexes kicked in immediately and I turned back once again, still not a single soul. That's it, I'm going mad.

"Don't worry you're not going mad, you just can't see me. But if you listen to what I have to say and do as I tell you, you might be able to very soon."

This was it, I was drowned in the guilt of murder, and was going mad as a result. And yet, I still answered, not even knowing why.

"And why should I do that? Why should I trust you? Something I can't even see."

Silence. I could feel a breeze passing me; was it just the wind or was it the 'ghost' I was hearing.

"Good question, but misplaced. After all, it's you who needs help, not me. Or am I wrong and should I leave?"

I suddenly remembered the sound of the never ending sirens, but this time the sound of footsteps on the stairs were added to it. He was right, I did need help, and he's waiting on an answer. Luckily we, me, the dead body and the 'ghost', were on the 13th floor, so it'll take a while for the police to get up here as you need to take three staircases for each floor and each staircase was at least 15 steps. God, I never thought I'd ever be in this situation.

"No don't go, you're right I do need your help," I couldn't let him go, "But after this I want a clear explanation."

"Of course. Nothing but the truth"

It was obvious I was hesitating, but did I really have a choice? No.

"So what do I have to do?"

Once again I felt a breeze past me, but this time from the other side. I assumed he hadn't moved since earlier.

"It's quite easy, just take my hand."

I really didn't know what to do, for all I knew I was on the path to death, but was that really any better than being locked up for the murder of you're own mother. Once again the answer was simple. No. The footsteps were getting clearer, they were close.

"Alright, but first I want to know your name, 'cause I'm not calling you 'ghost-guy'."

Once again a breeze, he was getting impatient, but still stayed collected and calm. Nothing like me if I'm being honest.

"Sure, but nothing gives without getting."

It seemed as if he didn't want to say it, so he tried to play smart with his words. But I'm not dumb. I may be reckless, but not dumb. He probably was thinking I'm some sort of teenage girl who's lost her mind and doesn't have more than two brain cells. I understood what he meant the second he stated it.

"Dubois"

"You can call me Amon." His response, to his obvious dismay, came right after mine.

BAM! BAM! BAM! The footsteps were getting louder by the second. "Okay, I'm in. Where's your hand?" I could feel something wavering in front of me, without second thought I closed my eyes and placed my hand on the thing.

Suddenly we were somewhere else, and I could see him. He didn't look like what I thought he would. He wasn't ghostly at all. He was built like any other man, broad shoulders, long figure, short hair, ... Everything you'd bring up to describe a man. But there was one thing in particular that stood out to me. Everything about him was white. His hair was white, his irises were white, his eyelashes were white, his clothes were white, everything of his was white. He looked like an angel.

"Oh no, I'm anything but an angel darling"

His strange appearance had distracted me, but not for long. After a few seconds I remembered our promise.

"You promised you'd tell me what's going on and who you are"

"But didn't I do the later already?", he remarked with a smirk on his face. "Then tell me what you are!"

I don't like it when people test my temper, someone already tried, and she's lying dead on the floor now. He brought his hands up in defence and replied

"Alright darling, what I am is the tenebris exspiravit, or for simplicity's sake, your worst nightmare," I flinched, but he continued "and now that I've helped you, you're indebted to me. For life." I was shocked, what did he mean 'indebted to him for life'. I started backing away, "You tricked me, you played me!" was the only thing I could say, I yelled It so many times I could feel my throat getting dry.

"I did no such thing, darling. I gave you a proposal, and you accepted it. It's as simple as that."

Was he being serious? Was he really saying that? God, please let this be a dream.

"You should've told me the conditions."

"You didn't ask for them."

I wanted to put my hands around his throat and strangle him.

"There was no time!"

"And you're blaming me for that, I wasn't the one who killed my mother!"

He was right. I had to calm down. I took a few deep breaths and continued. A few moments later I continued.

"And what exactly does this mean? What does it mean? That I am indebted to you?"

He smirked once again.

"Now that is an interesting question. Its' simple, you just have to do whatever I say."

I wasn't going to make the same mistakes again, this time I was asking questions.

"And what exactly are these things I have to do? And what if I don't?"

His former smirk had now turned into a grin. One who scared me.

"A good question again, perhaps you're not as stupid as I thought. What I want is simple, stay with me for, well forever and do whatever I tell you to do. Not like you have a choice anyway, with what you pulled just a few moments ago."

I was shocked I couldn't do that, I have a life. Maybe I should run away? He continued, "And if you don't? I'll kill you, and don't even think about running away, I'll find you with ease." Once again, it was as if he had read my mind. Maybe that's just one of his abilities. "The thought of being locked up sounds a lot better now doesn't it, Dubois?" Amon was right, but not only about that.

I don't really have a choice.

Do I?