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What Lies Beneath

© Vahini Naidoo

James Duncan was lying on the flat of his back underneath a bed. He was lying there, waiting for Cecily Morgan –the woman he'd allowed to take him home with her – to tell him that it was OK to come out. Cecily and James had been having a good time, until Cecily heard footsteps downstairs and promptly shoved James under the bed.


That was when she chose to enlighten James about her husband. He sighed. The ones with husbands were always the most high maintenance. James had cursed his bad luck at being caught with a married lady and held still underneath the bed, hoping that Cecily's husband was the unobservant sort of bloke who wouldn't notice another man lying beneath his bed.


As he lay there, waiting, he could see Cecily's heels click-clacking around the room. He assumed that she was straightening things out. Making it look less suspicious so that when her husband walked in everything would look normal. James tried to calm himself down, but it was impossible, so instead, he twisted his head to the side and watched Cecily's heels.


That is, he watched Cecily's heels until he noticed them clack over to the door and shut it, forcefully. James frowned, something about that wasn't right. If Cecily's husband was coming up the stairs, then why would she shut the door? Wasn't that a little odd? Maybe, she was stalling for time. After all, it would by them a few more seconds if her husband had to open the door.


James rolled over onto his back and stared up at the wooden underneath of the bed. He was slightly more relaxed now; he didn't think that he'd be found. That was when he caught sight of the writing on the underside of the bed. At first, he thought nothing of it, not even bothering to read it, but as time wore on he got more and more bored.


Finally, having nothing to think about and nothing better to do, he looked up at the writing and read it. If you are under this bed, get out now. She's a killer. James started and a wave of terror ran through him. He kept silent, though and tried to keep calm. The message had been written hastily with what looked to be a permanent marker.


He rolled over very carefully, not daring to make a noise, not even daring to breathe. He was comforted by the sight of Cecily's black heels, still moving back and forth across his line of vision. The message was probably just a joke...


That was when he heard it. The sharp, metallic sound of a knife being unsheathed. James had never heard that noise before except for in the movies and he found a fresh wave of terror breaking out over him. Where was Cecily's husband? Shouldn't he be here by now? Who was this woman?


James rolled over and faced the opposite wall for a second, trying to think of what he could do. Eventually, he decided to take the advice of whoever had written the message on the underside of the bed. Get out now. He rolled over quickly, not bothering about the noise he was making. Then he rolled out from under the bed...


Straight into a knife. “Tut, tut, James,” Cecily said as she pushed the knife even deeper into the shocked man's side. “You really should look where you're going.” He gasped out his last few stuttering breaths and then Cecily pulled the knife out in one, clean stroke.

“Now look,” she whined at his dead body, “my carpet's ruined.”


She looked at the pool of blood on the floor and then chortled, wiping the knife on James' discarded clothes. “That writing works every time you know. It makes it so much easier to get you people out from under the bed...”