Lies And Desires

POV: Harmony Winters

The footsteps became louder and clearer, even as I walked faster, trying to escape the impending doom I saw lurking around him.

From the first day we met, I knew he was bad news, and even though I tried to ignore the darkness inside of him that he didn't try to hide, I couldn't help it anymore. I had to leave him. I had to run far away from him. I had to stay away from him. He was trouble, and with all that I had gone through in life, I didn't need any more problems.

It was a dark night, the weather was cold, and the wind blew fiercely, scattering dust and dirt, some of which got into my eyes, as I hastened my footsteps, afraid that he would catch up to me.

Owing to the night's blindness and the fact that I wasn't looking at where I was going, I mistakenly dashed my foot against a stone.

"Ouch!", I winced in pain. I shouldn't have said anything, so as not to lure him towards the alley which I now stood in, with tears welling in my eyes, and blood gushing out of my foot.

It was now harder to walk, and I limped, seeing the motel that wasn't far from the alley anymore. It gave me hope, and an assurance that I could be far away from the devil that I had once thought I couldn't live without.

Suddenly, someone appeared before me. My heart began to race faster as I looked up to see his hardened face, laced with a crooked smile. I couldn't tell how he had gotten in front of me, and I didn't have the time to stand there and ask him questions.

I made to run as fast as I could, but his firm hand grabbed mine and pulled me back, with eyes that told me that I was done for.

I was hyperventilating, as his cold dark eyes met mine, and I began to tremble in fear, with quivering lips.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," He said.

A drop of tear, which I had been holding back, fell from my eyes, and rolled down my cheeks. I hadn't wanted him to see me cry, and believe that he still had power over me.

"I warned you, didn't I?" He asked, pulling me to face him.

I shuddered, still hyperventilating.

"Answer me!" He yelled, shattering my heart into many different pieces and putting fear in my mind.

"You...You did," I stuttered.

"Yes, and now, you'll have to pay for being a disobedient wench," He said, and without warning, he forced his lips on mine, pulling my hair with his hand, drawing me close to him, so that my breasts were pressed against his chest.

My emotions betrayed me, and I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around his neck, as I dived my tongue into his mouth, twirling my tongue around his, tasting the milk he had drank before coming to hunt me down, and savouring its sweetness.

I didn't care that we were in an alley. After all, no one apart from both of us were present. He pushed me to the wall, and nibbled on my neck with his teeth, after which he found his way to my breasts, which he groped firmly, before peeling my dress off my skin.

While his hand caressed the left breast, massaging it and playing with its nipple, he sucked diligently on the right one, making me feel pleasantly aroused, and provoking a desperation I never knew existed within me.

A moan escaped from my throat and my stomach sunk inside, with a tingling sensation. I had missed this. I really had.

Still with his hands caressing my breasts, he bent down with a gasp and desire, and began to fondle with the area around my clit. I gasped, telling him that I wanted more.

He tore away my panties and began to lick my clit, thrusting a finger into my pussy hole. I cried out loud. "Do it again," I managed to say, amidst the intense adrenaline sensation that made me electrified.

He drove his tongue into my pussy hole, while his index finger was still in it, sending me off screaming with another shattering moan. He continued to thrust his finger in, still licking my clit, until a warm familiar liquid burst out, making my legs vibrate, with a loud moan which erupted from deep within.

"I've missed you," He said, wearing a grin on his face, as he unhooked his belt, showing off his dangling manhood, which stood erect. He began a steady rhythm of sliding his dick into my wet pussy, and I couldn't prevent my hips from rising to meet his thrusts. I hated him, but I wanted him more than anything else.

I kept on moaning loudly, screaming "harder".

"Shush. You're going to wake up the whole neighbourhood," He said, placing his strong hand over my mouth, which made my incessantly loud moans muffled.

I grabbed his hair, yanked it, and pulled him closer to me, making sounds of pleasure, which couldn't be heard, exactly as he wanted it. My teeth were chattering, and I was shaking so violently, with tears streaming down my eyes in ecstasy.

My hands went down to his hips. I needed support, and with no bedsheets lying around, I could only get it by holding on to him tightly. He was still driving his dick into me, hitting my g-spot, and I held unto his hips even more tighter, shaking in delight as I finally had an orgasm.

Maybe it was the tension in the atmosphere that caused it, but it was the best sex I had ever had in a long time as he made it seem like it was the first time, and I began to question if leaving him because he was a psychopath, who killed when he didn't get what he wanted, was really worth it.

It wasn't until I felt the tip of his pistol, that I realised how big of a mess I was getting into again. Recently, he had returned from prison, and if I tried to leave, he would kill me, especially since I had been the one to call the cops on him.

Inasmuch as I knew that no one could ever fuck me like he could, I knew then that this was my only chance to escape and be free from him. I wasn't ready to drown into an unending slumber just yet, and my eight-year-old brother still needed me around. I decided to make a decision, while he was still busy with tapping his cock against my pussy, and releasing his cum on its surface.

Before he could get a grasp of what was going to happen next, I grabbed the gun from his pocket and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the chest, without giving him a chance to beg for his life or to even say his last prayers. A dick like him deserved no such thing.

The look on his face was that of betrayal and disappointment, but I wasn't sorry; I was sure all his previous victims had also looked at him in that same manner, but he didn't bat an eye.

"Rot in hell," I told him, as he collapsed heavily to the floor with a thud.

Taking his wristwatch and wallet so that it looked like he had been mugged, a satisfactory smile appeared on my face, as I fled into the darkness, pleased with myself that I had gotten the world rid of an unfortunate bastard; a shame to humanity.

POV: Harmony Winters

Run! Harmony, run!

My subconscious mind kept trying to push me to break free from his grip, and escape for my life, before he did something more dangerous than he had ever done in the past. He was out of his mind, and if I didn't leave this minute, he was going to put an end to the gift of breath I had been given.

However, it was hard to get loose from his overpowering strength, as his hands held mine above my head, pinning me to the wall, with so much force and dexterity. He was going on about how much he couldn't wait to keep my corpse in his basement, along with the other corpses he deemed to be trophies, which he had collected over the years.

"Please, let me go," I pleaded, through clenched teeth.

He shook his head slowly, with a smirk embracing his mouth. "You aren't going anywhere," He snapped, glaring at me with a menacing look, that made cold shivers run down my spine.

"I promise... No! I swear on my life that I wouldn't say what I saw," I said, as my lips quivered, with my whole body trembling in fear.

"Of course, you wouldn't dare say what you have seen, because by then, you'd be long dead," He said, guffawing like the psychopathic imbecile he was.

I shuddered, as a drop of tear fell from my right eye. I didn't...I couldn't die. Perhaps, I was living a worthless life, but for the sake of my younger brother, Mason, I couldn't die yet.

He grabbed the pocket knife from the table, with a determined look on his face, unfeeling towards my incessant pleas for him to show mercy, and my cries that depicted the agony rooted deep within me.

Cackling like a wizard, he brandished the knife in front of me, and as he brought it closer, my heart began to beat ten times more than usual, with fear pricking me all over. I couldn't even find the words to continue pleading with him to spare my life, as my teeth chattered and my body kept trembling, perceiving that he wasn't joking around when he declared he'd be the one to put an end to my life.

"Before you die, I guess it's proper that you know that you were quite good in bed. I'll miss your cowgirl position," He said, placing the sharp edge of the knife against my throat.

"Guess I should have been a horse rider in the country side, then. If I had, I'd have never met someone as pathetic and hopeless as you," I said, deciding against wasting the short time I had left, trying to make an inconsiderate and abusive loser come to his senses.

My statement angered him all the more, and with all the strength he possessed, he intensified the pressure the knife had against my throat, and began to slit it slowly, with a look of triumph written all over his face.

Little drops of blood began to trickle down slowly, staining my white dress, and tears filled up my eyes, as I saw my life flash right in front of my eyes.

"Harmony. Miss Winters," I heard someone call, as if trying to revive an already lost soul.

I began to struggle for my life, as my name kept on being repeated. I wanted to answer, but I was choking, as my life was getting snuffed out of me, without apology.

"Miss Winters!" The voice called, this time, firmer and stronger.

I jolted out of my imagination, with my hand around my neck, as I coughed out loudly.

"Are you okay?" The person asked.

I looked up, still trembling in fear, as my eyes met Kaitlyn's eyes, who looked at me, with worry being the only expression I could read on her face.

"I...I am okay," I managed to say, heaving a deep sigh, that showed how relieved I was that what I had been experiencing hadn't happened in reality.

"Mr Mateo called. He wants to know if you remember the date you have with his son," She said.

"Shoot! I almost forgot. What's the time?" I asked, packing my stuff into my bag, in a frenzied state.

"You need not worry. You still have twenty more minutes," She said, with a smile plastered on her face.

"What the... How come you didn't inform me earlier enough?" I asked, throwing the blame at her.

"I didn't know I had to do that. I'm sorry," She apologised.

"Save your apologies for later," I said, standing up to my feet, picking up my bag, as I straightened my dress. "There's no way I'm going to make it back home, and then, to the fancy restaurant he's taking me to in time. I had hoped to go home in order to change into something better, but that won't be possible anymore," I said, placing my hands on my waist.

"This outfit you're putting on seems a whole lot beautiful to be worn out on a date. I see no reason why you should go home," Kaitlyn said.

"You think so?" I asked, staring down at the outfit, thinking about what she had said.

"I know so, although you might want to take off the jacket," She replied, with confidence ringing in her tone of voice.

"I see," I said, then, took off the jacket.

It was a red body-con dress, which was sleeveless, and had a slit just by my left thigh. Black silhouette heels graced my feet, and my long ebony hair had been packed in a ponytail.

Kaitlyn was right. The dress was indeed fit for my first real date with Sean Mateo, my boyfriend of four months. Although we had met each other in person about six months ago, during his father's birthday, we had agreed to be in a relationship during a video call.

He was the sweetest guy I had ever met. He took my number from his father, and when he returned to France, we started talking little by little, till we couldn't stay without having a conversation with each other everyday. We had a long distance relationship, which was blissful, and now that he was in the same city as I was in the United States of America, I couldn't help but smile at how much more blissful our relationship would be.

"Miss Winters," Kaitlyn called.

Once again, I was drawn out of my thoughts. At least, what had gotten me lost this time around was a good imagination, and not one of a despicable maniac, who had died four years ago, and had no power to torment me like he used to in the past. I had put an end to that psychopath. He promised to kill me, but I woke up everyday, relishing at the fact that he could do me no harm, because I had made sure of that.

"You should also leave your hair down," Kaitlyn suggested.

"Okay. Hold the mirror for me, would you?" I asked, giving her a small hand mirror from one of the drawers.

I let my straight ebony hair glide down my back, and combed it, so that it rested smoothly all the way to my waist. The right part of the hair was tucked in nicely at the back of my ear, while the left part hung down in front of my face, giving me a classy look.

Next, I applied powder and a red lipstick on my lips, with mascara on my long dark eyelashes, feeling thankful that I always carried around a mini makeup kit in my handbag.

"How many minutes do I have left?" I asked, smacking my lips, as I stared into the mirror, admiring how beautiful I looked.

"About twelve minutes left," Kaitlyn responded.

"Oh wow. The drive to the restaurant should be ten minutes, if there isn't any traffic, of course. I might not be late, or I might be a little late. Not bad. I am sure he wouldn't mind waiting a little bit. Now, how do I look?" I asked.

"Splendid," She uttered, with a smile on her face.

"I know," I told her, with a wink, and began to walk out of the office, with a confident smile.

"Enjoy your date," She called out loud.

"I certainly will. Please, send in my schedule for tomorrow via my email address," l told her, opening the door.

"Will do," She said.

I didn't give a response to that, and just closed the door behind me, deciding to take the elevator, so as not to waste the time I didn't even have.

No one else was getting into the elevator, and I began to feel skeptical about going into it. I wasn't always claustrophobic, but ever since I was kept in a very dark room just waiting for the day I died, it became my greatest fear. It always felt like I was choking when I was in an elevator, and that a gun would be fired at me immediately the doors finally opened.

I never dared to step into one alone, and as my heart raced in fear, I decided to just take the stairs, in case I suffocated being all alone and trapped in a confined space.

As I turned around, I bumped into someone, someone I guessed was about stepping into the elevator, but whose footsteps I hadn't heard since my mind had been clouded with other thoughts.

"Watch it, will you?" He asked.

I quickly staggered backwards, pulling away from him. "I'm sorry," I apologised, sincerely.

Seeing the displeased look on his face, I decided to just go ahead with my plan of taking the stairs, thinking it unwise to stay in the same elevator with him. Yes! I bumped into him by mistake, but was that enough reason for him to be looking at me like I was a serial killer? He could go to hell for all I care; I didn't need his company.

I apologised again, and began walking away, when his strong firm hand grabbed my wrist, making me halt at once, feeling as confused as I could possibly be.

It was impossible to free myself from his grip, and my heart began to race as I looked up to meet his stone-cold impenetrable gaze. He wasn't smiling, and I could smell trouble looming, and the time ticking. My date was waiting, but I was stuck here, with a sinister and grim-looking individual that couldn't accept apologies, and surely had to work on his anger issues.

POV: Rhys Anderson

She looked at me as though she was scared of me. I usually had that impression on people the first time we laid eyes on each other, and I enjoyed being afraid of. It was a beautiful feeling to see people's hearts thump loudly just because of your presence, and to perceive fear emitting through their system.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked, after a few seconds of sizing me up with her eyes.

"Take a wild guess," I retorted, gesturing with my neck.

"Please, let me go. I really need to be somewhere right now," She said.

Seeing a few people walk past, I decided to give in to her request before someone saw me and thought that I was molesting her. These days, women were good at twisting stories just to suit themselves, and that didn't bode well for me or my career.

I freed my grip from her hand, and she immediately rubbed her wrist, giving me the "if looks could kill" look, but I was less concerned about that.

"Thanks for letting me go. I was starting to think that you are mentally deranged," She said, and made a move as though she wanted to leave.

I scoffed. "I'm sorry, Miss whatever's your name, but you aren't leaving this place till you do something about my shirt. You would stay back and do something to fix my shirt if you want either of us to leave this place today," I declared, giving her a cold hard gaze.

She appeared dumbfounded, then rolled her eyes. "I already apologised for bumping into you, Mr anger issues. I don't think I have to do anything about your shirt, simply because I might have roughened it unintentionally," She said, still not getting the point.

"Roughened? You believe this is because you ruined my perfectly good ironed shirt?" I retorted.

"Of course, I believe so. If you must know, however, you are simply overreacting. What do you expect me to do about your shirt? Get you a new one? Ask a drycleaner to iron it for you?" She asked, then suppressed a laugh as she looked at me as though I was a ridiculous piece of shit.

"You can let it out, you know. Laugh if you must, but I am damn serious about this whole situation," I said, looking at her with disdain.

A look of realisation suddenly washed her face. "Sorry, do you suffer from OCD? You don't like being touched or not being neat? Is that it?" She asked.

I couldn't help but chuckle mildly. The girl was obviously insane and she was really good at pretending not to know why I was presently pissed off. She acted like she was innocent, but having met a lot of criminals in my short lifetime on earth, I knew she was not that innocent.

When she saw I didn't reply to her absurd question, she joined in my chuckling, and stopped when I stopped, giving her a strange look.

"That's it, right? You suffer from OCD. I'm sorry about that but I didn't know. I respect all people – those with illnesses and those without illnesses. It's okay to not be okay, and since you've explained yourself to me now, I get why you're so pissed off because I touched your body by mistake. I'll talk to my personal assistant and she'll get you a new shirt in no time. Hold on, please," She said, bringing out her phone from her bag.

Immediately the phone was in her hand, I snatched it away from her.

"What the..."

"I don't suffer from OCD, you nutcase. Can't you see the damage you've done to my shirt?" I asked, spreading my arms out wide.

Her mouth suddenly opened wide in surprise, as she finally understood what the fuss had been about. If I didn't see the actual shock in her eyes, I would have thought that she was just playing dumb with me, and knew exactly why I was upset that she had bumped into me.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to stain your shirt with my lipstick. It was an accident," She apologised.

"Yes, I know it was an accident, but what are you going to do about it?" I inquired.

"Um..." She said, searching her bag frantically for something; something useful hopefully.

After what seemed like ages, she brought out a piece of tissue paper from her bag, then she attempted to use it to clean off the "kiss" stain her bright red lipstick had done to my newly bought white shirt.

I quickly moved back, staring her with utmost disgust. "Are you insane or what?" I asked, almost at the top of my voice.

"What? You're the one who asked me to do something about it," She accused, pointing her index finger at me.

"Yes, I did, but did I also ask you to make it worse than it already is? Don't you know that using a tissue paper on it is only going to ruin the shirt more? Are you a kid? Nah. Even kids are smarter than you. You're a lunatic, that's exactly what you are," I said, with a sneer.

She seemed wholly frustrated, and looked like she could manage a great deal of alcohol to pull her out of her frustration. "What exactly would you have me do then? You don't want my apology or my help with getting rid of the stain. What exactly do you want?" She demanded, without mincing words.

I was surprised that she would even ask such a question. "Aren't you rich?' I questioned.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" She retorted.

"It has to do with everything. You are rich, and you should do what other rich people would do in this case," I said, winking at her.

It was then that it dawned on her exactly what I had wanted all along, and she shook her head pitiably at me. "Aren't you ashamed of requesting for money from me?" She asked.

I shook my head, giving her a negative response. "No, I am not. I am definitely not ashamed of requesting for money from you, not even in the slightest bit," I said.

She clicked her tongue. "Tch. A grown-up man like you asking for money from a lady like me? It's terrible. I can only imagine how miserable your life must be," She said, opening the designer purse she had taken out of her bag.

I stretched my neck a little bit to see how much she was counting. "It's very miserable, milady. That's why people like myself pray the rich offends us, so that we can get more money to support ourselves and family," I told her.

She brought out some money, and was startled upon seeing my neck, now stretched very close to her purse. "Are you fine?" She inquired.

"Not at all, but I'll be fine when you finally give me that money we discussed about," I said, running my fingers through my hair.

"Remind me again why I'm giving you this money instead of paying a drycleaner to get rid of that stain on your shirt," She said, throwing me a suspicious look.

"Obviously because I don't have time to waste doing laundry. I have to get a new shirt and be on my way to see my fiancé's family, and I certainly can't go there in a wet shirt or with a shirt that has a woman's lipstick stain on it," I explained.

"Oh my goodness. I also have to see my boyfriend. You know what? This is five hundred dollars. Use it to get yourself a new shirt and keep the change," She said hurriedly, not even having the time to flash another one of her glares at me.

A smile lit up my face as I was quite impressed with the amount she had handed over to me. "You may go now," I said, as I pocketed the money and began to walk into the elevator.

Immediately, she ran after me in her black heels and waited for the elevator doors to swing open beside me.

"I thought you were taking the stairs," I remarked.

"I changed my mind," She retorted.

I heaved a deep sigh. "Did you change your mind because you want to kill me in the elevator for taking five hundred dollars from you?" I asked, wondering what could be her motive.

The elevator doors opened and we both stepped inside, before she could open her mouth and give me a response to my question.

She seemed pretty uncomfortable and I could see her fingers quake a bit. I leaned close to her, now understanding that she was afraid of being in elevators, and I saw her breathe in relief as she also stayed close to me.

The elevator doors swung open and we stepped out to the first floor. She didn't even pause to tell me thanks and began to walk away immediately.

"Hey," I called.

She stopped right in her tracks and turned around. "If this is about the question you asked earlier, then, no. I had no intention of killing you. I can't kill a miserable person; death would be an easy way out for you. It's best if you stay alive and have only the miseries of your life as comfort," She said.

I was quite taken aback. "You didn't have to be so mean. I was just surprised that you were walking away without so much as a goodbye," I said.

"After unjustly extorting five hundred dollars from me, I should be mean to you. Goodbye, gold-digger," She said, and began to storm off.

I wanted to pull her back and talk some sense into her. However, my phone began to ring and seeing the name on the Caller ID, I knew it was a call I could never ignore.

"Goodbye, lipstick girl," I called after her.

The ringtone from my phone kept on ringing out loud, and my fingers quaked as I made to answer the call. I always felt this way whenever he called because he usually wanted one thing or another from me.

Despite the fact that I had tried to free myself from him countless times, he kept bouncing back like a bad coin. I wanted that chapter to close, but the story wasn't over yet.