MIDNIGHT STRIKES
It had been a long tiring day for Rachel Wilson, who had just moved into a new apartment with her friend Heather Cox. The house was located on a small street and was rather small with two adjoining rooms and a shared bathroom. It worked well for them and they settled fine.The day flew by and it was another morning.
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When Rachel came down for breakfast, she saw Heather at the tea board flipping through the newspaper daily. "Morning, Heather" Rachel said.
"Morning" Heather smiled and answered without looking up from the paper.
Rachel walked up to the kitchen counter and pulled out a box of juice from the fridge. Heather had her face still buried in the paper. She meant to flip the paper to the entertainment section when she saw the thick black headline caught her attention. She leaned closer to read the front page story. DEATH OF JAMES WILSON. She read out aloud, 'James Wilson (64), the owner of Wilson enterprises died on Monday evening as a........' But before Heather could complete, Rachel snatched the paper from her hands. The paper carried the story and a picture. Rachel stared at the paper, mesmerized, her heart pounding and tears welling up in her eyes. Heather frowned in confusion and asked "Rachel, what is it? What are you crying for? Is everything all right?" Rachel didn't respond. After a moment of silence, she said 'He was my father'. A tear ran down her cheek. Heather stared at her open mouthed. "whoa! whoa! What? you are James Wilson's daughter?" Rachel's mouth tightened. She shook her head.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Heather questioned, pulling her eyebrows together. "Because i don't like to talk about him. I hated him" Rachel replied quietly.
"huh? but why?" a frown creased her forehead. " he was a multimillionaire and one of the most influential men in the world. Don't hate anyone with that much money" Heather added.
"You don't understand, Heather. He was an awful man. He abandoned my mother. She hated him so i hated him" Rachel said crying no more.
"But look at the bright side, you'll be still inheriting a lot of money, won't you?. You shouldn't be living in a place like this, your family would hate to know that you live like this" Heather said.
"I doubt if they even know i'm alive, they hate me" Heather narrowed her eyes in concentration. "My mother used to work in his company. He promised to marry her and left her when she had me. But my mother was unaware that he already had a wife Ruth and son Steve. But when they came to know about me, they were devastated and Ruth killed herself" Rachel stopped for some time, and continued "Steve held my mother responsible for his mother's death. She couldn't hold on any longer there and left that place and settled in her sister's house. But my mom, she died when i was 13" But Heather convinced Rachel to go see her half-brother and sort everything between them.
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The Wilson's house was huge. The guards let her in, and she saw many people around in black clothes. She recognized her brother, he was standing closest to the coffin. She approached him, but the moment she came he recognized her too. She tried to talk to him. But he just glared and walked away. Memories flashed in his mind. Happy old days with his mother and father until the day she came, when all the happiness was over just because of the baby and her mother. The days he spent in his boarding school cursing them. He had always hated Rachel and hated her even more as his father had left half of this wealth for her in his will. He ordered the guards to throw her out. Unaware of the relation she had with the Wilson's the guards did what their master said. Rachel returned back home. Heather was already at the door waiting. Rachel runs directly to her room, hating herself for going there. "I should have never listened to Heather" She murmurs to herself. A big tear slide out of the corner of her eye. She cried herself to sleep.
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Rachel wakes up to the sound of a glass shattering in the middle of the night. She sat up. It was 15 past 1.
"What was that sound" she wondered. From the moonlight creeping inside through the opened window, she saw a shadow behind the door. She took a deep breath and stared at it blankly for a second. Then she glanced down at it and shouted "Heather, Is it you?" She got no reply. The shadow moved and Rachel craned her neck to see up ahead. She gets out of the bed and decided to check it out. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she glanced around. In the shadowy light, she could make out a faint outline of a person. Her eyes grew round and her lower lip quivered. The shadow was nearing her. She heard her own heart beating. Even in the shadow, she could tell the person was big and tall, and was walking slowly down right towards her with the heavy shoes scraping the floor. "Who's there?" she shouted. "who is it?" Her voice squeaked a little. No answer came. But it came closer and stabbed her in the stomach with a knife. ''AAH!!" She screamed and shot up from the bed, realizing it was just a nightmare. She looks up at the clock, it was 1:15. Suddenly she heard something shatter down at the hall. An uneasy feeling crept into the pit of her stomach. Her eyes widened in horror as she actually saw a shadow move. It sent a shiver down her spine. Her hands began to sweat. Someone gripped her arm, but she jerked her arm free from the tight grasp. She knocked the person over and tried to run but she couldn't. Her pulse began to race. The figure came forward. Rachel gripped the bed, frozen with fear. She could see a head with long brown hair. She didn't know who it was. She couldn't see the face, and, then there she saw it. "YOU!! what are you doing?" She stammered. She heard a laugh. A laugh that boomed like thunder and said 'Goodbye, Rachel' Everything happened fast. Rachel hit her head on the floor hard as she crumpled to the floor. She uttered a low throaty cry of pain then her eyes closed. Rachel Wilson was dead. The killer walked out wiping the blood off the knife.
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Next morning, in the Wilson house.
The afternoon was high in a cloudless sky. Mr Brite burst from the front door.
"Oh, Good Morning, come on in' Steve said.
Mr Brite grinned at him, he noticed a lady standing near the study who walked towards them. Mr Brite frowns at her.
"Oh, Mr. Brite, this is Heather, Heather Cox. And Heather, this is George Brite, our lawyer"
"Nice to meet you, Heather' He brings his hand forward to shake her hand.
"nice to meet you too" she smiled.
They all sat around the round table as Mr. Brite said in a barking voice. "I have some bad news. Your half-sister- Rachel got killed. The cops are searching for the killer, but they haven't found any clue yet" Steve sat impassive and Heather was looking out of the window and she gave no sign that she was listening, though both of them were already aware of this news.
"... and you will be glad to hear that her share of money will be transferred to you." For the first time Steve gave a hint of his feelings. He gives him a half-smile.
"Yeah, exactly like we wanted" thought Heather.
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About a week later, Steve and Heather were having a long altercation.
"Just go away, Heather" Steve shouted.
"but Steve.."
"Why don't you understand? I don't want you anymore" Steve said
"I killed Rachel for you. That's what you wanted" Heather spoke in a low voice.
"Just go away, orelse, i'll turn you in to the police. So, just leave me alone" The snap in his voice startled her.
"You made me do it, Steve" she replied.
"Ha! who's going to believe you? no one. You have no evidence. AND why would I do that to my own sister. But i have a lot of evidences against you' He grinned.
She stared at him in disbelief. Steve walked away ignoring her
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The clock stroke 12.
Steve drifted into an uncomfortable sleep, drifted into a dark nightmare where he hears a glass shattering and someone comes in and stabs him with a knife in the middle of night, in his own house. When he woke up he was glad it was just a dream. But we know well, that sometimes it can come true. He went back to sleep. But before a minute passed, he wakes up to the sound of a glass shattering for real.