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Burgundy

Raindrops huge and insistent assaulted the dark glass behind him. He stared in his rear view mirror and it looked like the dark was stalking him. He braced himself, shrugged his jacket closer hoping the camouflage might shield him against the enveloping danger. The howling wind cried a tearful lament; warning him to turn around, to veer off the unlit winding road where the only thing standing between him and the edge, were tiny concrete pillars and the warning bells ringing in his head.

"Fuck!" he thought, as a loose stone shot off his wheel and hit his windscreen, "fuck!" He drove on knowing he had trespassed against all reason when he got in the car in the midst of a storm from hell, turned the ignition (which had the sense not to start on the first try) and headed towards Signal Hill.
Why on earth had she suggested they meet there? The area was renowned for pickpockets and dodgy corners where people got up to all kinds of unsavoury business.
He was angry at himself for jumping at her request.
"Dammit!" he called out loud in the freezing car, his aircon on the fritz, "why does she still have a hold on me?"
Her text had come through, catching him off guard.
It had been 9 months since he had last heard from her.
9 months to his rebirth; more damaged, but stronger.

Or so he thought.
Her text rattled him, she wrote commanding him to meet her.
Unfinished business were the words she used.
"We're done," he had screamed at her the last time he'd seen her, scared by her craziness, alarmed at her neediness, afraid that she would drain the life out of him.
"I can't take this anymore," a note of sadness had crept in his voice, he was still crazy about her.
Her eyes darkened in an instant; turned pitch black. She squared her shoulder and looked at him with venom: "Done!" she screamed, "I'll say when we're done!"
She shoved past him, leaving him reeling and walked off without looking back.

He'd expected to hear from her again; expected to bumped into her; expected to hear rumours, or titbits of her new life that would break his heart.
But nothing.
It was as if she had fallen off the face of the earth.

Slowly he didn't expect, didn't wish, didn't feel.
Slowly he healed, forgot, forgave.
Slowly he moved on, fell in love, fell forward towards the light.

And then it came, the message, summoning him. He didn't respond, didn't need to; she knew he'd be there...10pm...Signal Hill....in the heart of the Cape of Storms.
He was afraid seeing her would reel him back in, back to her, yet he raced there, his car knocked about in the storm; raced forward to meet his beautiful nightmare face-to-face.

He could barely make out her car parked at the furthest end of the parking lot. As he drew nearer his headlights fell on her tiny frame leaned up against the car.
She stood in the wind and the rain.
He came to a stop, kept his headlights switched on and stumbled over branches and pine cones in the darkness.
Nearing her he noticed she was wearing burgundy heels, 6inch stiletto's the colour of warm blood.
It was out of place, nonsense shoes for the terrain and the weather; shoes that belonged in the bedroom on the feet of a seductress.
It puzzled him, threw him off his stride. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, but he plodded on.
"I always loved that jacket. Can I have it?" she said her voice nearly drowned out by the wind.
"No hello?" he asked removing his jacket like a puppet on a string.
She took it from him with a smile, his white T-shirt became soaked through in a second.
Her smiled died on her lips. Her eyes were black soulless pools and her dark hair was plastered against her face.
He watched her, transfixed, looking for signs of the old her, the woman whose laughter stirred his passion and drove him crazy with her eyes.
He saw her bending down, saw the sharpened spike of her stiletto flashing in her hand, watched her raising it above her head...
But he was transfixed, rooted to the ground like a giant Pine.
She lunged at him, her ungodly scream piercing the night as the heel pierced his heart... again and again.

Lying on the ground in a river of burgundy, she sat astride him dripping rain and blood.
 And as the blood drained from him into the ground of Signal Hill, she leaned forward and
whispered : "Now we're done."


PS. Thanks to Adrianna Joleigh and David Kent for providing the inspiration behind this short story with their "Writers Challenge" on G+ 
Writers Challenge

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