Authors Note: Yes, we all know what really happened to Cal and Chloe, but this mainly just to introduce my writing style and set things up a little ;)
Prologue: Freedom, it felt as though the pain and suffering of this week had been lifted off her shoulders. The panic that had beaten rapidly in her heart was slowly beginning to lessen to a steady pulse. Chloe gazed deeply into Cal's eyes, those liquid, cerulean diamonds, knowing that he was the one she longed to be with forever and eternity. Salty tears of joy streamed down her face, her blond hair clinging to her face. "I thought you were dead." She choked out, hoping Cal would understand her words of rejoice. "I told you I'd come back, didn't I?" he flashed a smile, a reassurance that the time away not knowing how close death was lingering had shaken him as well. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, still feeling her tremble from all that had occurred in such a short span of time. Together they had escaped death and its icy grip, knowing all too well what might have happened if he hadn't rescued her. "Chloe…" he started, his hands trembling as he embraced her, "Will you marry me?"
"Yes…yes!" she began to sob tears mixed with rejoice and sorrow. Rejoice that together they would forever be entwined in a relationship as strong as the moonlit tides. Sorrow that their friends, family, and those who grew with them and together blossomed into maturity, were now either floating in a watery grave or cursed with an even more horrendous fate. But none of that mattered, Cal was by her side and freed the cage bird that was her soul. Their lips locked, she embraced him and tried to think back to the pleasant times when none of this happened, when being naïve and trusting of others was the status quo. The first thing that appeared in her mind formed into a recollection of their third day on the island, when they sailed the lake waters hand in hand. He had almost fallen off the boat, twice, but when his hand curved around her waist, she felt as though she was tiptoeing on a floor made of cloud. Who says the man of your dreams has to be in your dreams?
Releasing their lips, a shiver chilled her spine, Chloe thought she heard a twig snap on the road ahead. Glancing upward, her blood turned cold and her body seemed to freeze in its place. Up ahead stood a lone figure, his icy gaze seemed to pierce her heart. His name was John Wakefield, the maniacal bastard who had taken everything she knew and loved and hung it up or slashed its appendages, watching the blood slowly drain with a quiet drip drip drip. He had taken away all of her childhood friends, one by one, acting as if it was just a day in the park. The image of Nikki flashed through her mind, the board knife piercing her chest and hearing the air escape her lungs, a hushed moan that sent shivers down her back.
"Run!" Cal screamed in terror, leaping to his feet while she glanced around for a way to escape. They couldn't head up the road, Wakefield would be sure to find some way of stopping them. Behind them stood a bridge, so old she could hear it creak just from the gentle gushes of wind. Cal picked up his rifle and aimed at Wakefield, managing to shoot the ground beside him, a devilish grin spread across the murderer's grizzly face. "This way! Cal, this way!" she grabbed him by the hand and ran for the bridge, wincing at each and every moan of its iron frame.
Half-way down the bridge, there was a gate of all things, blocking entry to the other side. Chloe felt as though she was nothing more than a caged beast; freedom was just beyond the gate, but there was no way to avoid it. Cal began to scoot her forward, her eyes caught site of a way to get around by swinging her legs around the side and easing over slightly. "That's it, that's it. You're doing great." His confidence in her was apparent, but with each tick of the clock was another chance for Wakefield to end your life.
"Cal, please, come across! Take my hand!" He shook his head and glanced back at Wakefield, who confidently strode across the bridge, clutching the menacing board-knife in his hands. "Cal, please! Cal!" He looked her in the eye and silenced her, "Look at me…look at me." She gazed into his eyes and suddenly felt sheer panic wash over her, what was he doing? "I love you." Chloe reached out to grasp his shoulder, but he was already moving. "Cal? Cal! What are you doing? Cal, no!" Her pleas grew more desperate, her eyes brimmed with tears. "Come on you!" Cal had grasped the shotgun and looked as though he was going to use it as a club rather than what it was intended for. Wakefield just smirked and bashed the knife into her fiancé's temple, grabbing the gun and watching it slowly plummet into the dark, icy abyss.
"Cal! No! Please, don't hurt him!" Chloe tried to find a way to end this, but there was no use, Wakefield already had the upper hand. With one swift movement he grasped Cal by the scruff of his shirt and leaned him back over the edge of the rail, inching the board-knife closer and closer to his chest. "Cal!! No! Please, don't do this!" Chloe's screams and cries went unheard, she knew this was the end. A split second, the knife plunged into his chest, Chloe screamed in terror, "NO!!" But it was too late, blood was already dripping out of his mouth, he cocked his head to the side and whispered, "Chloe?"
Her legs began to give way beneath her, as if she didn't have the strength to go on anymore. Her heart felt like a black-hole, sucking away all hope and memories worth reliving. Her hands trembled as she steadied herself along the side of the bridge. Wakefield lifted up Cal and thrust him over the side of the bridge, watching him plummet to a watery grave. Chloe couldn't move, her body ached and her heart was shattered into bits of glass. He's gone…he's gone. He loved me…When her emerald eyes looked back and Wakefield, he nudged his head and almost seemed to be asking her, "Are you ready?"
A fire suddenly rose from the pits of her soul, it coursed through her veins and set her mind ablaze. She would not fall victim to him, she would show him that she would never let a scoundrel like him plunge his knife of horror and sorrow into her. Chloe suddenly knew what to do. "You can't have me." It felt as though the weight of the world was lifted off her shoulders, that final release, the feeling of letting go. First her hands, then her midsection, then her legs, and suddenly, it was all freefall.
Though it only lasted a second or two, years flashed by, memories of joyous occasions whizzed by in a blur of color. One moment stuck out in particular; a baby girl swaddled in a cotton blanket, opening her eyes to her mother for the first time. Her heart nearly skipped a beat, that had been the most joyous occasion of her life. Just before she hit the water, she whispered to herself, "Goodbye, Sadie…"