posted on Oct, 13 2009 @ 07:11 PM
Young Tiffie sat alone on the park bench, staring desolately into the fading light of day, wearing an elegant party dress. And as might be expected,
given those circumstances, only a short time passed before a handsome young stranger joined her.
The young man glided softly onto the bench next you her, selecting a respectable but approachable location, and waited momentarily before speaking.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked politely, intimating that he would eagerly forfeit his complete rights to this public location, if it would
please Tiffie in the slightest.
Tiffie looked at him, her dark eyes completely unreadable in the fading light. She sighed.
"Do I mind? No! And – thank goodness for you!" Tiffie breathed heavily. "I need help. Desperately!"
The young man wrinkled his forehead slightly, estimating the possible commitments that awaited his response. He momentarily weighted chivalry against
nuisance. But, gazing at the virginal beauty of Tiffie's eyes and softness of her skin, the upside of continuing this conversation compelled him to
answer, "What's the matter? How can I assist you?"
Tiffie breathed raggedly. "I am in great danger. Something horrible happened today. Something unbelievably gruesome. I think you will gauge me to be
insane – in fact – dismiss my nightmare as delusion. I hesitate to say any more, but I have no one else to confide in."
"What is it?" the young man asked, pulling back slightly.
"Just hours ago, I came home to find both my dear parents dead! Murdered! Horribly hacked apart in a manner so ghastly that it defies description!"
She turned away from the young man, to stare again into the fading light of evening. A soft whine of despair curled in her throat, barely audible.
"Please. Help me."
"Your parents? Dead? Hours ago?" the young man stammered.
"Yes," Tiffie continued. Most likely – most likely – tortured as well. I can't go to the police. There is nobody to trust. You see, it is a
conspiracy, a darkly complex secret that transcends any poor explanation I can muster during the limited time I probably have left." She took the
young man's hand. It was now as cold and clammy as her own. "I am afraid he is coming after me next!"
"Who?" he choked. "Who is after you?"
"I don't know his name. All I know is that he drives a dark blue sedan, has a tightly clipped beard. And that face – so evil – so horrid! Oh –
Oh – my God!"
Tiffie froze in terror, pointing down the street with a wavering finger. "Oh – Oh – There he is! Please! Protect me! Save me!"
There, just down the street where she pointed, cruising slowly towards them, was a dark blue sedan. The driver was an older man, with a tightly
clipped beard, and a face twisted in anger. He stared malevolently at the two of them.
"Protect me!" Tiffie said again, but she was now speaking only to the open air. Her hand was now empty. The young man was sprinting across the park,
away from her as quickly as his legs would allow.