The Continuous Story

"Now, Cecily show Arthur where the body is and you two get rid of it while I find the cleaning stuff," her mother-in-law said.
 
"I don't understand" Cecily stammered
"Well after all we have a half share in the company Robert(Cecily's husband) owns" announced her mother-in-law.
"Company, what company?" asked Cecily
"You mean he didn't tell you"
"Tell me what? queried Cecily
 
"He, er, he worked as a stripper," said Arthur, rubbing the back of his neck. "Paint stripper."
"But," began her mother-in-law, "we knew of his other hobbies, the ones he does late at night, when he thinks you're asleep. He sneeks out of this house and goes into town."
"What?" said Cecily. "Why... why would he go into town?"
 
"Cecily now is not the time, we need to get rid of the body and later when we've cleaned up here, we can sit down over a nice cup of tea and ice vo vo's and we will tell you everything, BUT NOT NOW." screeched Arthur

"Now are you going to help or not" asked Cecily's mother in law
 
"Hell no," Cecily said as she leapt forward and plunged her knife deep into Arthur's chest. "That's for keeping his secrets from me you *!@*?**!"

Cecily turned to her mother-in-law. "Now, why don't you tell me all about it."
 
Meanwhile, in a dimly-lit tavern halfway across town, a man with a scarred face, ravaged by fire eons ago, paused and creased his brow, his tankard halfway to his mouth.
He grinned, but this was not the look of a man who grinned without sufficient cause; his facial muscles looked tight, as if it was costing him an effort to smile.

"So, it has begun," he said. "Her first blood is spilled."
 
Cecily's mother-in-law grinned and her mouth kept opening, wider and wider until it literally split half her face. Cecily took several steps back as her mother-in-law's eyes shone red.

"What do you want to know, dear?" the mother-in-law's voice was bestail and reverberated through the floor so that Cecily could feel the vibrations in the pit of her stomach.
 
Cecily's head was empty. She couldn't think of a single intelligent question to ask, except, "Er... can I run now?" And then she did. She ran.
 
And the man with the scarred face in the dimly lit tavern laughed, got up and headed to the door. "Come to papa," he whispered.
 
Cecily didn't know where to go. She had very few friends -- none of whom she could trust -- and her family had died in a house fire six years ago. Fearing for her life, she ran from the house and raced down the street. But she certainly was no runner; after a few minutes her limbs were getting heavy, her mind whirled with thoughts, and she soon found herself stumbling into a shaded backstreet.

And there she collapsed on the ground.
 
When Cecily awoke she found herself lying on a massive bed, soft and warm. A fire was glowing from the far side of the room and what a room it was, the most opulant room she had even been in.
She stood up and looked around.
"Where am I"? she said aloud
 
No one answered. The logs in the fireplace crackled. She felt her nerves begin to tingle. Yet when she sat up and swung her legs off the bed, the soft carpeting under her feet seemed to ease her concerns. She looked around again. This room certainly was opulent -- and cheerful. A small smile came to her face, and she relaxed somewhat. After all, in such a nice place, what could go wrong?
 
Cecily noticed double doors and went to open them, they were however locked. Concerned she strode to the windows, drew back the blinds to discover they had security bars on them.
Fear began to rise in her once more. She was trapped.
A noise outside the door startled her, someone was unlocking the door.... but who?
 
The door swung open a and a bearded midget strolled in carrying a covered tray. Cecily saw an opportunity and raced to the door.
 
As she sped past him, she heard him shout, "I'm not that ugly am I?"
 
"Oh, sorry midget," Cecily said as she came to a halt, "I didn't mean to be rude it's just that I'm trying to get out of here."

"Oh, okay," said the midget, "you'll want to take the stairs and then the exit is right opposite you."

"Thanks," said Cecily as she ran from the room.
 
Was that laughing she heard as she ran? Nah, surely not.
Cecily sped through the corridors, looking for the stairs, and then she saw it -- a grand staircase decorated in marble. She was just about to rush down them when a deep voice halted her.

"Leaving so soon?"

She turned. Behind her was a hideously scarred man -- but, hang on, wasn't he the same man from her nightmare? She felt a deep flush colour her face; hadn't she been attracted to him in her dream? Hadn't he given her a gift?

"I... I..." What could she say?
 
"I say your looking very menacing today." She said, immediatly regreting it.

The masses of jumbled scars and burnt tissue did not look amused.Or maybe it did, who can tell?
 
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