Stonelake

PROLOGUE

What, thought Miriam Willchester, an abysmal evening. A little sigh escaped her lips, and she glanced away from her date to her painted nails. Little hearts colored purple and pink lie upon red backdrops, and she shook her head no to them. Meanwhile, the man in front of her continued to drone on, his eyes filled with some sort of feverish delight.

"It's seven o' clock," she interrupted him in a monotone. "I have work tomorrow. I should go home." He blinked owlishly, then grinned from ear-to-ear (how creepy-almost like a skeleton, she thought) and gestured for the waiter with one hand, while using the other to grasp Miriam's delicate hand in his own paw.

"Don't be hasty, dear," he purred, beseechingly matching her cold gaze. "The night is young. Don't say already-say only. Take another drink." The waiter scurried towards them with a bottle of wine in hand. "Pour." Miriam watched, half-apprehensive, as her glass filled with flickering crimson. She sat still until she looked up at her date's lidded eyes and smug smile, shocking her back into standing with a start and knocking back the chair.

"Sorry," she apologized to the waiter while grabbing her purse. "Listen, I-I really need to head home. Now. Sorry to cut our date short--here." She carelessly tossed crumpled bills onto the table, which the man looks down at for a second before going back to silently tracking Miriam with his maroon eyes. "So. Uh. Great evening, but you know, work calls!" She gave a fake smile and laugh. Her date refused to take the bait.

"I'll walk you home," he offers, taking his coat and offering one arm to the frantic woman. She shook her head and all but runs out.

"No, I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble for me!" Her voice trailed off as she sprints away, and the man watched her with narrowed eyes. Putting on his coat, he pulls out a hundred-dollar bill, crisp and fresh, and left it on the table next to the stunned waiter.

"That should cover the bill nicely, shouldn't it?" he sneered, right before heading out. "Wait, Miriam! Don't worry, it's no trouble!"

Hearing him, she slid into a side alley, then dove into a trash can. Her purse skids deeper in, but it did the trick--he runs right past, still calling out for her. A few seconds after his passing, she jumps out, her clothes and hair in disarray.

"That," she croaked, "was a terrible evening."

After that, she crawled to her purse. Everything had fallen out--her old pocket-watch which didn't really work, her makeup kit with the cracked plastic cover, her shattered phone--everything. Her eyes widen.

"My phone! Damnit." She sighs. "Anything to get away from that man, though. And I can always get a new one." She combs through her purse to find her wallet, which falls out onto the ground and reveals a severe strain of money. She cursed while fiercely pulling her fingers through her tangled hair. "What the f*** am I supposed to do now, huh?" Flushing out of anger, she kicked at her phone, causing the glass shards to spill onto the ground. "Sh**!"

Miriam gathered up her personal belongings in her bag, a frown lacing her mouth. Every five seconds she stopped and a string of curses issued from her lips as she found another fault to be angry with.

"Excuse me." She looked up into dark blue eyes, obscured by a coarse hood made of black material. "Please give me your purse."

"..." Miriam stayed stock still before processing the request. "Huh? Who do you think you f***ing are, anyway? Dressing up like a cosplayer or something." She turned away, snorting. "Piss off, little kid." The caped figure shook her head.

"I don't hate you." She's frightening while being so quiet she is almost silent. "But you have to give me the bag." Miriam laughed, arching over her head to face the girl. "Or."

"Or?" the woman questioned, turning her entire body around now. The purse was left on the ground, abandoned. "Listen, I'm in the worst mood possible right now. Screw off." The girl bit her lip.

"I hate this," she muttered. "Hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate"

"Nutjob," snorted Miriam, but a hand latched onto her neck. "Hm?" The girl pulled herself up, the choke hold tightening. "Ngh! Let me-" she raised a leg "go!" Kicking away the cloaked, she gasped while kneeling on the ground, delicately probing the skin of her throat. "Are you crazy?"

Without an answer, the girl grabbed the purse. Steadily, she marched towards Miriam, her eyes too wide and expression too flat. The older woman started to panic as she gasped for air.

That grip. Miriam's eyes narrowed as she observed the girl's movement's. It was too tight for someone of her size. No little girl like that should be so strong. Twisting away from a punch which broke the cement wall behind her as though it was glass, Miriam continued to watch the girl's steady pace. I'm continuing into the alley. That's bad. It may have an opening on the other end, or, more likely, it'll be a dead end. The girl tilted her head seeing her target stop moving. Knowing my luck, the latter will be true. Which means my only choice.... Miriam ducked and rolled, ending up behind the girl and landing on her feet. Now. The girl spun, fire in her eyes. Run!

Miriam sprinted.

"HELP!" she yelled as the girl began to catch up. Damn, how was she so quick? "HELP!" The houses were all barred from her reach. "F***," she cursed, seeing how she had nearly been overtaken. "Please! Please, let me in!" She reached a closed door and banged on the wood, sobbing. "Please... I need to... I can't..." With a smile, the girl approached.

"I need to kill you," she was whispering. "You can't be--need you--I got the purse--" Her face contorted. Sprinting, she raised her hand to grab Miriam's throat. Terrified, the woman pushed against the door with all her might.

And it opened, sending her sprawling inside.

In a matter of seconds, the mysterious inhabitant had the door bolted shut. Miriam shivered and looked up to thank her savior.

"Don't," interrupted the strange girl. "That girl outside is insane. She'll probably tear down the door to find you if she hears your voice." Breathing hard, Miriam nodded. "I'm Layla, by the way." She giggled. "I'm fifteen." The pure shock on Miriam's face must not have shown because the girl continued to talk like normal. "Oh, I think she's gone."

"So, um." Miriam awkwardly scratched at her hair, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm Miriam. Thanks for saving me."

"No problem!" Layla adopted a cheerful persona, and with a kind smile, she offered a hand to help Miriam up. "Mama says I shouldn't let strangers in. But if you're about to be killed, then I think it's different." Miriam gave a little euphoric giggle.

"I'm sorry to ask another favor, but may I borrow your phone? I need to call someone."

"Sure." Layla pulled out a cracked device and handed it over. "I'll be right here until you need to leave. Though I'd suggest waiting a bit." Miriam nodded solemnly as she typed in the number for the police station.

"This is Akkia city police station. What's your name and what are you reporting?

"Oh, thank goodness. Derrick." Miriam wiped away tears from her eyes with one sleeve. "This is Miriam Willchester."

"Miriam?" There was a note of suspicion. "What do you need? If it's a new case, we might have to start in the morning-"

"It isn't that exactly," she breathed. "Derrick, I just was almost murdered." There was a pause.

"WHAT!" A crash sounded from the other end. Derrick was furious. "What happened? Are you safe?" Miriam winced at the volume.

"Yes, I should be fine. But get this. The girl who tried to murder me?" Miriam's eyes narrowed into slits, causing Layla to shudder across the room. "She's the Stonelake girl."

"Huh?"

"I mean," reiterated Miriam, her eyes glowing with a feverish excitement, "it's the girl. The girl killed in Stonelake! Somehow, she's alive, and she, well..." The woman paused. "She was trying to kill me."