In a bid to escape, I raced down the steep narrow winding staircase to the seventh floor and stepped into the elevator. The underground carpark was dark when I slid―unseen―through a gap in the wrought iron fence.

Albeit briefly, I paused… listening. “Unusual weather for Majorca,” I muttered.

A thick blanket of pristine snow covered the pavement as I raced along the narrow winding road. Running was impossible; the pain was excruciating. Tears slid down my cheeks as I created a sling.

The sound of a powerful engine alerted me to danger’s approach.

I sobbed, recalling the first day of our honeymoon. “The rumours were true,” I whispered as I slid, unseen, into the garden of a finca. The high wall protected me from the snow. The blizzard raged covering my footprints as my husband of only two days stepped out of the Porsche. I trembled, wondering how he sensed my presence.

Tears ran unchecked down my cheeks. Escaping from a warlock is difficult, or nigh impossible.

‘Hell,’ I thought. ‘Andreas wasn’t lying. Loko and Anders are warlocks.’

“I will find you,” Loko bellowed.

Still and silent, I waited.

“Anders, was I wrong.”

“Forget her, Loko, she isn’t worth it. Lets go back to the hotel.” Anders yelled in a bid to be heard above the howling wind.

“My wife to me.”

“Does it matter? So she wasn’t the sweet innocent you believed her to be. That’s life, Loko, it’s called equality.”

I pulled the inky black poncho from my backpack and slipped it over my head. The sheepskin mittens warmed my cold hands. Nearly an hour later, I limped into a secluded hostel overlooking a horseshoe bay.

“Do you have any vacancies.”

“A room usually set aside for staff is the only accommodation available. It’s tiny, a single bed and bathroom.”

“Brilliant,” I sobbed. “I need to rest for a couple of weeks, maybe more. Will cash be okay?”

“Rest, or lie low?”

The sob was involuntary. “Please,” I sobbed.

“You were lucky to escape, Mrs Acosta. I’ve known Loko and his brother since we were kids. Violence against women is a family trait. He was married to my sister for nigh on six months. With my help, Andressa escaped. The scars―mental and physical―haven’t healed.”

Published by llamamemeg

I love creating stories. In many ways―since I returned to the UK (from Andalucia, Spain) in August 2015―it has taken over my life. Until recently, I ran a blog covering my journey through research, writing/editing/publishing my first novel but I discovered that one of my somewhat unusual short stories had been “plagiarised” by a popular American Author. Taking someone else’s work, if only one chapter, is immoral. To ensure she didn’t steal any more of my work, I closed the blog. Something I now regret but regrets are pointless. “The Elderns” (formerly “The Eldern Journals”) were also extensively revised. Hopefully, they will be published on Amazon KDP before the end of 2022. The first volume of my short story books, “So Bizarre”, will also be published. Or they will when I manage to sus out how to upload them to the Amazon website.

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