The Long Weekend--chapter one though three revised version

Hidden by the bushes at the side of the house, he felt an overwhelming confidence and power he had never felt before. Peering inside, and seeing her cooking that meal with such care, just as he had seen a thousand times before.

He wondered which dish would be her last? Would it be the wonderful lasagna, or maybe her famous leg of lamb? No matter, it would be a wonderful dish as always.


He snickered to himself as she carefully sliced the carrots, using the very knife he intended to use on her.

No need to worry about being interrupted, he had seen to that. The boyfriend would be gone until at least Sunday. That would give him plenty of time to play.....

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Maggie couldn’t stop dancing and singing. Silly as it was, she felt as though she were 18 again, despite her 38 years. She had a new job, working as head chef at Bombay’s, and she was finally free from the jerk that took away her youth.

She loved Billy, but the divorce was way overdue. He didn’t love her anymore, and was simply holding on out of spite. Regardless, he had signed the divorce papers and now the divorce was final. Nothing stood in the way of her moving ahead with the marriage to James now.

It really was a perfect night, except that James wasn’t there to share in her joy. He had only been gone two hours, and it felt like days already. Thank goodness he would be home on Sunday. Yes, tonight was a lovely night.


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Slowly, deliberately even, he slid the pick into the lock on the back door and gained his entrance. So easy, he thought to himself. No dogs, or neighbors for miles, made for easy prey.

Once inside, he could smell the lamb that he thought she might be cooking. Oh what a sweet smell it was. And ironic as well, in that she was his lamb. His prey if you will.


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As she flipped the oven off and stared down at her beautiful creation, she couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of loneliness. She was so happy inside, and content with everything in her life, but why did that familiar loneliness always seem to creep back in?

Just as she was lost in her thoughts, she heard a bump from the back of the house. Great, she thought to herself, now she is starting to hear imaginary gremlins. For a good five minutes she went over the potential scenarios.

Satisfied her imagination was on overdrive, she turned to the counter behind her to pick up her plate, and then SMASH! The sound of broken glass reverberated throughout the house. That was no gremlin, she thought to herself as the hair on her neck stood on end.

With chills running up and down her spine, she grabbed the knife and peeked down the long hallway that lead to the back of the house. Damn this huge house, she thought to herself as she tried to ascertain where the sound had come from. It could be from anywhere!


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Now that he had gained entry into the house, it was time to start his game. Killing her would not be enough.. No, she had to suffer. Suffer like he had, with no hope for relief.

Every time he thought of the way she had cast him aside, without so much as a care, he thought of a new way to torture her. This was years in the making and he intended to take those years from her flesh.

He slowly reached down by the door and picked up the shovel she had left after tending her garden that day, and thumped it on the floor.

Just one time, he thought to himself, as he wanted to slowly build her terror.

He then made his way carefully to the mud room and peeked around the corner at the short hallway that cut across to the master bedroom. A great place to start this game, he thought with not a hint of guilt.

He crossed over to the bedroom and climbed the spiral staircase to the loft overhanging the bed.. It was her “favorite” part of the bedroom after all, and he thought it appropriate to start her nightmare there. As he leaned out from the loft and held onto the mahogany railing, he reached over and with a quick flick of the wrist, broke the bulbs within the ceiling fan.

Then, he took the axe in his hand, and squeezed it with anticipation like a boy with a new toy.


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Damn my imagination, this is crazy, she thought to herself. Where did that sound come from?

Certain of her impending insanity, she went forward, switching on the hall light.

“Hello? Is there anyone there,” she called out ? Not expecting an answer and cussing herself for her silliness, she headed down the hall.

At the end of the hall, she turned to the right, toward the den, and entered the lonely darkened room.

Any icy coldness ran through her being as she quickly scanned the area for any sign of the sound. Seeing nothing, she carried on through the room, and out into the hallway leading to the mud room and master bedroom.

Flicking on the hall light, the strangest feeling came over her as she started to feel as though doom was around every corner. Peeking to the left, at the mud room, she looked at the back door and it was in place.

Then slowly walking to the master bedroom, she approached the doorway. Reaching deliberately inside she flicked the switch. Nothing. She flicked it again, and again, nothing.

She could see just a bit into the bedroom, and if she squinted really hard, she could make her way. Slowly, hesitantly, she inched into the bedroom.

Every fiber of her body was on fire with danger and yet, she had to go in for some reason. Her bare feet slid slowly across the hardwood floor, when a sharp stabbing pain hit her foot like a knife! What the hell? She wondered as she jumped back, driving the glass into her foot even farther.

It took a moment to register that the bulb had fallen from the ceiling fan, and that was why she had no light. Also, it explains the possible sound. But what would make it fall?

As she sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her foot and trying to make sense of it all, a little glint of light reflected from above the loft. When she turned her head just so, she saw what looked to be metal reflecting from the light in the hall. What is that? She wondered to herself.

Going through her mental registry, she couldn’t recall the last time she had been up to the loft. And there are no items up there that might twinkle to her knowledge.

She made her way over to the stairwell, still going over it in her mind. Being very careful not to step on her injured foot, she slowly climbed the spiral staircase.

At the top of the staircase, she limped across the hardwood floors to just above her bed, where she thought she saw the twinkle. As she approached, her eyes began to make out a shape. It was very still, and tall, and skinny. It.....was.....her.....shovel!!!!

The delayed terror hit her like a lightening bolt in the heart!


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As he watched her enter the room, his entire being shifted from human to feral hunter. Like the big cats on the African plains, he lustfully leered at her beautiful ankles from underneath the bed. He reveled in her fear, and it intoxicated him.

A bloodlust was building in him that could only be quenched by her screams. As she timidly crept into the room, he watched his drama unfold.

He was the director, and this was his movie come to life. He watched her move toward the broken glass on the floor which he had purposefully turned jagged-side up, and began to salivate as he watched her foot come down on top of it.

Her first gasp of pain was exquisite to him and just as he had hoped, she sat down upon the bed. With her skin two inches from his face, he could smell the soap and just a hint of sweat emanating from her.
He had to fight to resist the urge to start his attack just yet. There was much more for him to do.

Just a small taste of her sweat would do, and so he stuck out his tongue and brought it to within a mere hair of her ankle. Just then a drop of blood from her injured foot hit his tongue from above, and he nearly passed out from its flavor.

Like a shark in a feeding frenzy, his senses went wild.

But that was on the inside, and like the hunter he was, he did not strike. His urges were secondary to his revenge, and that revenge could play out only one way... For her to suffer slowly.

She got up from the bed and he watched her slowly ascend the staircase, headed for the present he had left her.

He climbed from under the bed, ever so stealthy, and walked out into the hall. Knowing she need only to look down for her horror to have a face, he lingered at the doorway for a moment before heading down the hall toward the den.

Laughing to himself, he patted the pocket of his jacket and the CD he had stored inside. With that, he turned on the stereo, flipped the hall light off, and the world went black for Maggie.



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Maggie stood in utter horror, staring at the shovel as though that might make it go away. Rational thoughts were no good to her now, as she was certain that she had used it earlier in the day.

Could James have put it there? Did I put it there?

Every logical explanation fell away with the simplest common sense. Lost in thought, and squeezing the knife with all her might, she stared blankly at the symbol of her confusion......

.HELTER SKELTER!!!! HELTER SKELTER!!!

The music blasted through the air like a sonic explosion to her ears. Literally jumping back against the wall, she nearly fell to the floor. And then, darkness....And the music was gone.

Trying to make sense of this was now null and void.

Maggie’s heart pounded out of her chest as she retreated to corner of the loft. Far from a timid woman, she began to realize, that she was in a fight.

She didn’t know who or what she was fighting, but she would not just lay down. Her father, was a Vietnam Vet that had shown her how to fight, and she paid close attention. She also knew a thing or two about firearms and how to use a knife.

She pulled herself up, still unsteady on her injured foot, but determined. She had the home field advantage, and the back door was not far..

She cursed herself for not having the phones installed right away, but it had only been a couple of weeks and she had her cell...HER CELL!

It was laying on her nightstand earlier tonight. She had talked to James, and put it right there!

As she scrambled down the staircase to the nightstand, she began to realize that whomever placed the shovel knew where she was. Just as she got to the edge of the bed, she felt an icy cold chill enter the room.

Scrambling for the phone, and finding only an empty nightstand, she turned to run.

In that moment, her blood stopped flowing.

“Hello Maggie, Looking for this?”

Across the room, and blocking the door, was the glow of her opened cell phone, seemingly transfixed and suspended in the air.

As her eyes adjusted, and pierced the darkness, the hazy blue light from the cell phone revealed the horror before her.

It was a man, with what appeared to be a clown’s face, staring through her.

His eyes were huge, and glaring at her through the blue haze.

And with eyes locked on one another, the cell phone popped shut..