When the Devil Came Down to Texas

PROLOGUE

*not my image in the header

Warning: extremely unedited

But she was so very curious to know what was inside, that she made up her mind to venture in spite of everything. She then, with a trembling hand, put the key into the lock, and the door straight flew open. – "Bluebeard"

Before

"Please let me out!" she shrieks, a sob catching in her throat, just below her tongue, pounding her quickly-bruising fists on the dead-bolted door. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to open the door. I promise!" She backed up from the door, her feet stepping into the open palm of the girl who opened the door before her. She looked down at the girl-rotting, mouth open, eyes shut, skin sagging- who fell for his charms as quickly as she did. She brought her hand to her mouth, biting down sharply on her knuckles. The taste of copper fills her mouth and the slow-flowing blood drips down her lips and then down her chin, leaving a crimson path in it's wake. Salt water fills her eyes, brimming over the edges like an ocean and wash down her smooth mahogany cheeks leaving a trail like a river.

The dead woman's cheeks are sinking into her bones. She's falling into herself-- the dead girl inside. Her dull hair is splayed across the marble floor like a spider's web. And she is caught in the trap he knowingly set. The continuing bolting and turning of locks finally fall silent. Then she hears a key turn as the final lock clicks into place, and therefore sealing her fate. She tries one last time, her throat raw and snot running from her nose.

"Please. Don't you love me? Did any of this ever mean anything to you?" She hears him sigh outside the door and a brief moment of hope blooms between her rib cage. In her head she's writing the story down for the detective, filing for a witness protection program application and watching his heart flutter to a stop when they give him a lethal injection. She hears his voice. It's a whisper. She can practically see him running his fingers through his dark blue-almost black- hair. And his eyes must be clenching. His teeth must be grinding. She can hear his back press against the door and him body come to perch against the wood: sitting.

"I really wish you had just fucking listened to me, Allie-bird." He sighs again. The hope that bloomed quickly withers, like a rose in the Texas summer's sunshine. She's going to die in here- just like the rest of them. Blonde hair. Green eyes. Some just bones. Some not even that. Some just dust. Allie shudders. "I really thought you were the one." He laughs then. A hard laugh. "I guess I should have known better. None of y'all, no matter how many times you promise, can ever resist the temptation of having a look-see once I leave the estate. Not one of y'all." He gets up then. She almost misses the sound of his thick drawl that coats his smooth, deep voice like honey. Almost. She can picture him shoving his hands into his back pockets of his worn-out Levi's. A white shirt. Covered in mud from the cattle herding. Mud covered boots. Dark chocolate eyes that made all the ladies in town offer him a glass of tea when he walks by. Smooth brown skin. Hands that hold the door open at the super market.

That was what he looked like when he walked in from work. Maybe he never left. Maybe he was watching, waiting, to see what she was going to do. See if she would pass the test that so many- she looks around the room again, littered in bones and decaying beautiful bodies- others had been so quick to fail. That she had been so quick to fail. She hears the man she loved- past tense- get up. She hears the echo of his work boots clamp across the wood grain floor. She hears the door knob turn.

"I just got to find me the one, Allie-bird. I have to." He shuts the door behind him. She watches herself die. Just like the rest of the girls. She counts the final beats of her heart and the number rib bones protruding from her side a week later. He gave her a glass of water on the second day, when she was sleeping. It lasted until the fourth day.

Her last breath wracks through her body, shaky and forgiving. Even to her death, she still loved him. She should have loved him a little less. 

----

JEEZ. What a beginning. 

This isn't even the ACTUAL story start. This is just to let you know what you're getting into. And, man oh man, this one is a doozy. 

Fair warning though, this one focuses pRETTY HEAVILY on the power of female friendship. 

Love ya.