on the edge

“Go, my lovely doe. Run.” I glared at him again, but he met my anger with a smile. Then, I turned.

And ran like hell was at my heels. By the looks of it, there WAS a demon chasing after me.

I grunted when I pushed the heavy oak door wide enough to let myself through. Outside, my legs brought heavy thuds on the ground as I ran as fast as I could. My breaths clouded up as I ran, swirling with the slight fog that was still around. ‘Punyeta siya‘ I cussed in my head, thinking of a flying mace hitting the bastard’s forehead. How the hell did he know that I was on the track team during my high school? That memory felt such like a lifetime ago and almost literally a world away that I even had forgotten about it until he mentioned it.

‘The guy’s a shit-crazy stalker’ I thought. I couldn’t let my energy burn out so quickly, though. I needed to make my way around the castle and back inside before he could catch me. My anger with him will not help me at this time. I didn’t hear anything else, only my panting and the stillness of the air. He must be far behind. I didn’t think he could even easily run with the muscled bulk he had. I risked a glance behind me.

He was only a few yards away. I could actually the movement of his thigh muscles as he ran towards me. He even had a grin on his face – the bastard wasn’t even panting!

Putangina!” I cried and turned to run away again. I was gasping in panic. He could NOT reach me! I made my way among some shrubbery, and I could hear him call out but couldn’t make out the words. All I could think of was to get away from him. Away from his glances. Away from his grins. Away from the heat that he generated in me.

The sudden emptiness of space in spite of the near-blinding fog was the only clue. I abruptly skidded to a stop and heard the rattle of stones and dirt as I stepped on a cliff’s edge. I looked down to see only grey mist and a sob escaped my throat. I REALLY hate heights.


I slowly turned around to see him just a few paces away. The thought of seeing his chest finally heaving was satisfying to me, but there was something different in his eyes. They were wide and he was staring at me differently. He did not have that intense, burning look he wore awhile ago.

Was it…fear?

He held out his hand to me. “Marie, come to me,” he commanded, his voice low and firm. “Step away from there slowly and hold me hand.”

I wanted to, but I couldn’t. My phobia with heights nailed my feet to the ground. And I didn’t want to hold his hand. If I did, then that meant that he caught me and I’d lose the bet. I never lose. I WILL never lose. I felt my head slowly shaking to refuse him, to refuse his anchor. I took a step.

And I felt the ground disappear from me.

I was going to drown in the soupy, airy sea of misty grey.


[Gee, I’m in a bit of a roll here. Remember what came before this? Well, this is obviously the continuation. Let’s have a bit of a…cliffhanger, shall we? Man, I suck at puns…]

One response to “on the edge

  1. Pingback: winning the bet | Sinister Green, Seductive Black, Salacious Silver

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