Write a story that begins
with a ransom note:
Darling
Diana,
You
don’t know me. But I know you. I know exactly how you spend every second of
every day. I know your favorite restaurants, what perfume you wear, the
position in which you sleep, who you sleep with, how many cups of coffee you
drink in the morning, and how many glasses of wine you drink at night… I know
you better than you know yourself. Are you afraid yet? You should be. I’ve
given you various opportunities to know me, yet you never showed the slightest
interest. Why? Why!? I can tell you, there are many things to love about me,
just as there are many things I love about you. But you will never know. You
will never give me the chance. So I have decided to take action. Like I said, I
have given you so many opportunities to know me, to love me, yet you STILL do
not even recognize me by name! MY NAME DIANIA! WHAT IS MY NAME, DIANA!? You don’t
know, do you? DO YOU!? I have your sister. Bethany, isn’t it? She’s a lovely,
young woman… we’ve had some very intriguing chats about you, my darling. She
has told me many wonderful things… most of which I already knew, yet the
confirmation of their truth was somewhat comforting to me… I’m sure you have
deducted, by now, that this is no ordinary ransom letter. How would money help
me in my endeavor? For, my endeavor is for you to love me, to be with me… No,
money is not what I am after… But… if you were to agree to take your sisters
place, that would certainly do. Yes… I demand that you take the place of your
dear sister as my… lover. I’ll be in touch.
Yours.
Hands trembling, Diana
lowered the paper. Her face immediately turned to the living room window,
thrown open; a cool, autumn breeze ruffling the elegant, ivory curtains. What to do? She couldn’t think. She
couldn’t breathe. Diana grabbed the telephone, quickly dialing her sister’s home
number… no answer. Could this be true? Or
was this merely someone’s idea of a clever joke? Obviously, she was
desirable. And the fact that she was an exotic dancer exposed her to the sort
of people capable of such atrocities. What
to do? Diana loved her sister more than anything. Bethany was seven years
younger than Diana. A lovely girl. Diana had spent her childhood caring for her
younger sister; protecting her. They hadn’t spoken in months. Bethany was in
her final year at Columbia University… studying Philosophy. Although Diana’s
career choice was an unusual one, it provided more than enough to take care of
Bethany’s tuition.
Diana was sitting
completely still, staring blankly out of the open window, wondering… should she
allow herself to be kidnapped, help captive, and most likely, regularly raped
by a man whom she has met, but cannot possibly place at the time being? Could
she escape? Or would he kill her? And if it came down to it, could she kill
another human-being to save herself?
Diana jumped as the phone
rang. Not bothering to check the caller ID, she immediately answered, “Hello?”
“Oh, my darling. Your voice
is so lovely.” A deep, slow voice.
“Who is this?”
“You don’t know.” His
tone confessed his disappointment.
“How should I? If you
know of my career, then obviously you know that I interact with a large number
of people on a daily basis. Is this the person who sent me the ransom letter?
The letter about my sister?”
“Oh, darling. Your sister
will be just fine as long as you agree to meet me at a place of my choosing at
a time of my choosing. I will let her go.”
“What are you going to do
to me?” Diana’s voice trembled with fear, for she knew what she had to do.
“I’m going to force you
to love me.”
“Love can’t be forced, it
just happens. I’m sorry I haven’t paid you enough attention in the past, I
promise I will give you a chance! We can even go out, how does that sound? Just
please let Bethany go.”
“Graham Lumberyard, 8:00 p.m...
don’t inform the police… I’ll be watching.” The line went dead. Tears were
streaming down her face as the phone fell to the floor. She would have to take
her chances… for Bethany’s sake.
Diana
arrived at the lumberyard at 7:45 p.m. As she drove through the gate she
noticed a black van parked very close to the main building. Her heart was
beating furiously as she approached. She stopped the car directly next to the
black van and immediately noticed that there appeared to be no one inside.
Concealing a small handgun in the top of her thigh-high stockings, beneath a
flouncy, black skirt, she slowly opened her door and stepped out of her
vehicle. At that moment, a man turned the corner from behind the van and raced
toward her. Diana had only a moment to imprint the man’s appearance before he
jumped onto her, slamming her to the ground and covering her face with a moist
cloth. Short… balding… chubby, yet obviously strong… Where had she seen this
man before? Where? Where?
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Diana awoke, abruptly, being
shaken vigorously by her younger sister, Bethany. “What? What!?” She exclaimed.
“What, Bethany!?”
“Wake up. It’s time to
go. I refuse to be late to my own graduation. I know you worked late last
night, sis, and I appreciate everything you do for me so much… I hope you know
that. But you BETTER get up and get your beautiful ass in the shower so we can
GO!”
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Diana was clapping as
Bethany crossed the stage. She had never been more proud of her little sister.
The crowd began to clear. As Diana was struggling to escape the insane number
of guests now exiting the commencement hall, she noticed a man standing
completely still next to the restroom area. His hands were in his pockets and
he was examining her with great interest. She turned her face from him and continued
forward. As her face was exposed to the cool, evening air, someone grabbed her
arm from behind and pulled it, hard. Diana stumbled backward into someone
considerably solid. She turned to see the same man she had noticed near the
restrooms. “Excuse me,” she said politely, then pulled her arm from his grip
and began to walk away.
“Okay, Diana, darling. I see how it is.” A deep voice mumbled near her right ear. She turned, slowly, facing this man who haunted her nightmares. He smiled as her dark eyes met his light ones. “Miss me?”
