"It happened two years ago...the scar."
He turned his head.
"It happened in a parking lot, in broad daylight..."
There was a strange glimmer around her. Either she had another stupid plan or...did she trust him?
At least he knew that all of his guesses about that damn scar had been wrong.
"...he held a knife to my throat the entire time. And I have to spend the last two years trying to convince myself..."
"That it was beyond your control?"
"No...that it would never happen again."
And then she struck. As he squabbled like a chicken, she ran away. Ghastly, blooded murder threats tried to crawl, maggot-like, from his mouth, but the only sounds he could make were outrageous and gruesome warbles. Her foot, her foot...She ran away.
He had sort of cared for her, hadn't he? Possibly maybe. He had told her the plain facts, and had prevented her from doing anything stupid - the mirror, for instance. She had seemed to forget that he had the power in this situation. Her father's life was his choice.
"Oh!" They had discovered the pen.
---
A woman was walking quickly, her bare arms swinging like a soldier's, and her facial expression was half-crazed and hungry. Beth set her newspaper down, un-crumpled her napkin, and picked her pen up from her black purse.
A woman is chased by her ex-lover. He is an utter sadist, and has promised to kill a member of her family if she does not agree to date him again. This happens on a plane. Cue aggression? She knees him in the groin? Must ponder when home.
She clicked the cap back onto the pen, a self-satisfied smile on her face. She had a million of these little notes tucked away at home, all with plot ideas. Writer's block could strike at any moment, and the best cure for it, she had found, was to find a slip of paper with an idea struck out on it in her spidery handwriting. She felt that this one was going to be good.
---
Good ol' sunny Florida. Jackson hated this state, particularly now.
The doctor had given him all the news he needed: he wouldn't die. So he had wrenched that ugly alien pen out of his throat and ran away, murder on his mind.
---
A tall, grim-looking man was half-running, half-walking the same path that the woman had not seven minutes before. Sighing, Beth took out her pen again.
The ex-lover lives! He's after the woman, after she hurt him (obv., not deadly), and he wants revenge. Careful to not make it cheesy. Does this sound like a B-movie sequel? Cue slasher music.
Maybe she would leave this part out.
---
He had excelled at board games as a kid. Relatives and friends refused to play them with him, after he had beaten them at Clue for the twelfth time. The smug sound of his voice saying "Checkmate" caused his first girlfriend to break up with him.
Logic. That was all that was needed.
So where was Lisa? A pair of familiar high-heels caught the outer point of his eye. Ah. Wouldn't it have been smarter to leave the airport? Maybe hide out it the woman's bathroom? No, there were guards, now. He couldn't let them swoop down for the kill.
She spotted him and ran away.
---
The feel of her heel arching against his hand - but it struggled free.
---
I would like to take this time to thank all of my readers. No, it isn't finished yet. I appreciate all of your reviews - I get the oddest goopy-warm feeling reading them. It's fantastic. Thank you. I hope all of you continue to enjoy this fic.