Today I’m posting as part of my annual Bloody Valentine Horror Event, the place where bad love lives and romance goes to die. You can check out the dark side of love here on Facebook:
Be my Valentine.
Lonely widow looking for romance.
Only gentlemen need apply.
Henry smiled as he read those first lines, and continued to smile as he finished the personal ad.
Some poor fool woman ripe for the plucking. I’ll wine and dine her, and fleece her for every cent in her bank accounts.
He put the paper down and picked up the telephone to call the number listed.
Two days later, on Valentine’s, he arrived at her door carrying flowers and chocolates. He repressed the urge to shiver as he rang the doorbell. The place was an old and creepy Victorian style house, with an overgrown yard of wild roses.
The door creaked open to reveal a tall, slim, rather pretty middle-aged woman.
Well, thought Henry, this might not be so bad after all.
He held out his gifts. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
She smiled, accepted the candy and flowers. “Hello, Henry, I’m Lydia. Do come in.” She ushered him inside and closed the door behind them.
Henry groaned and opened his eyes. His head hurt. The air smelled musty and the floor underneath him felt damp.
Where am I?
The last thing he remembered was having dinner with his mark. Lydia.
He tried to sit up, and suddenly realized his wrists were manacled. He was chained to a basement wall!
“Watch you language now!” Lydia’s voice interrupted his expletive and she walked out of the shadows holding the box of candy he gave her.
Henry stared. “What have you done?”
“Made you mine. My forever Valentine.” She smiled. “You were perfect, Henry. No one will miss you. Not a criminal like you. So you can stay with me until you die.”
“Stay? Stay with you? Until—until I die?” Henry sputtered the words, his mind reeling in a lack of comprehension.
“That’s right. Down here in the basement, all nice and cozy. We’ll talk and laugh, and every so often I’ll do nasty painful things to you.”
Henry stared at her, before babbling, “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”
“I know it’s hard, but you’ll come to accept it. You’re mine Henry, all mine until I decide to kill you. Then I’ll bury you under the roses like the rest. I do hope you last longer than the last one, though. He quite disappointed.”
With a giggle, she held out his box of sweets. “Chocolate?”
As a Bloody Valentine treat, I’m offering my novella, Gothic Cavalcade, for free on Smashwords all day: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/240833
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