... and others suffered?

"Go," he waved his hand broadly. And he smiled cheerfully. The dimples on his predatory face seemed completely superfluous. - Go ahead. Go. The door is there, - he pointed with a finger with a dark nail somewhere to the right.

Only then did the girl realize that no matter what she did, no matter how free her body was now, he would still kill her. Just play first. And this game has already begun. Last game. Deadly.

And the ropes mean nothing. She can't be saved.

He will be everywhere.

He will be behind her.

He will be in her heart. He already made his way there.

“You too…” The girl said with difficulty, remembering all those who had disappeared. “Also… will you kill me?”

He smiled, stood up, leaned over to her and gently licked her cheek, leaving a wet mark on her.

- What are you, Candy. What you. Purple eyes peered into her frightened face with streaks of blood for a long time. - What you. Come on.

She shook. She shook her head, mumbled something pitiful, pleading.

The man grabbed her sharply by the forearms and pulled her to her feet.

"Go," he repeated in the same frightening, mocking voice. - Run away. Seek happiness, Candy! You won't find it with me.

He stepped aside, folded his hands behind his back, and began to watch with interest as she takes timid steps, staggering and clutching at the bare cold wall with her hands.

It was like in a dream - the legs became cottony, the movements were difficult, and the girl could hardly move.

But she had a purpose.

- Run, sweet, - he said to her back with pleasure.

Gathering all her strength, she suddenly bent down and picked up the fallen knife, which she forgot about during the crazy kiss, but which she did not forget for a moment after it.

The handle was ice cold, like a knife in a refrigerator. But she did not care - the girl threw her hand forward and rushed at the man.

With a laugh, he caught her with one hand, and with the other he grabbed the knife by the blade, which immediately dug into the skin. And with a light movement he tore the edged weapon from the girl's thin fingers, throwing it far, into the thick shadow in the very corner.

“And I thought you wouldn’t even remember him,” he shook his head, stroking her face with a bloody hand and not noticing that he was wounded.

- Bastard! The girl screamed, trying to escape.

He hugged her like a toy, hugging her to him, forcing her to listen to the beating of his heart in his chest, kissing her hair. And then he abruptly pulled away and, grabbing a syringe from a table nearby, without a word injected its contents into the crook of her elbow.

The last thing she saw, a huge shadow detached from the wall and stepped towards them, smiling and taking off her hat. The shadow turned into a Scarecrow.

Her unconsciousness saved her from insanity.

How long?

“Ugly love,” the man whispered, shaking the girl and not letting go. - Ugly, ugly, ugly...

"Pam-pum... Pum-pum-pum... Pam... Pum-pum-pum-pum"...

Chapters 1

A happy life is not given to everyone - someone is fighting for it, snatching what they want from the clutches of reality. And someone enjoys everything that was given to him at birth, without even thinking at what cost others get it.

Jessica Malone's life was envied by many, considering her unfairly happy.

At twenty-seven, she was pretty, confident, smart, charming, and firmly on her feet. A fashionable wardrobe, the latest smartphones, an expensive car, her own house in a prestigious area - she got all this easily, without particularly straining. At one time, having graduated from a prestigious university with a degree in journalism, Jess got a job in one of the fashionable women's magazines, and for several years she successfully wrote articles and interviewed famous divas. She was in good standing among her colleagues, skillfully resisting gossip and rumors, often went on trips, bought branded clothes, attended self-development seminars and went in for sports: fitness twice a week and yoga twice a week. In addition, her personal life did not fail - for two years now, Jess had met a man whom, without exaggeration, could be called a dream with Scandinavian roots: tall, blue-eyed, blond, Eric was a perfect match for brown-eyed, dark-haired Jess. He was pleasant in communication, polite, athletic and had an attractive appearance, but not at all sugary. But, most importantly, he was smart and, despite his age, taught at the university at the Faculty of Physical Sciences.

It seems they were both in love. They often rested together, had common interests and did not get bored in each other's company. And both dreamed of a big family. In addition, Eric was an amazing kisser and was gentle and caring.

In the winter, they decided to get married: Eric looked after the house, and Jess made up the honeymoon itinerary. She had long dreamed of a Mediterranean cruise.

Numerous friends and colleagues in the magazine could only envy Jess and her ideal, from their point of view, life.

Of course, her fate is largely due to the help of parents who are very supportive: rational enough to give the eldest daughter freedom of choice, and conservative enough to prevent this freedom from turning into unruly anarchy. The father is a successful businessman who made money on industrial waste processing companies. Mother is a typical high society housewife, busy with social life: she was the head of the Board of Trustees of the school where Jess once studied, participated in charity events, and now, when they moved to the state capital, she completely headed her own fund to help sick children .

If Jess had been a man, much would have been expected of her - at least that's what her father said - but since she was lucky to be born a woman (mother's statement!), A number of duties were removed from her. The mission of becoming her father's heir in running the company was entrusted to her younger brother Tedd, and Jess could do what she dreamed of. And she dreamed of the post of editor-in-chief. And slowly but steadily went to this goal. She had a lot of patience and diligence.

In addition, she liked to maintain the image of a girl with an ideal life.

An ideal life implies an ideal past. No mistakes or regrets.

... that day, Jess returned home late after midnight after a stormy party in a nightclub. She had not had so much fun and danced so much for a long time - that she even took off her shoes on the dance floor, and the birthday of her colleague and good friend Diana was to blame. Jess was brought by a taxi driver - a brand new Chevrolet Spark was left to wait for her at home. And all the way she talked to Eric on the phone, leaning back on the soft seat back.

Alcohol was still pulsing in his blood, and it made his head spin easily and pleasantly. I wanted madness and love. I wanted to break kisses and break off myself - with the person with whom they were soon to connect their lives. And, as luck would have it, he left for a scientific symposium on quantum physics.

“I miss you when you get back,” Jess said in a mockingly capricious voice.

“Tomorrow, honey, I already told you,” Eric reminded him in a calm voice. Although he did not like that the bride was drunk, he did not reprimand or shout at her, only gently reproached and made fun of her condition.

- Tomorrow will not come soon. But when it does, you'll be in my bedroom all night," Jess said jokingly, and the driver smiled when he heard that. A slender girl with a mop of dark, disheveled hair seemed to him a sweetie who, instead of a wrap, had a little black dress with bare shoulders. Someone is very lucky.