Fredrick leaned back in his office chair, a self-satisfied grin plastered across his face. He couldn't get his mind off the time he'd spent with Stacey the previous day.
His friend and business partner, Alexander raised an eyebrow as he walked in. "Someone seems to be in a really good mood," Alexander remarked, setting down his keys and phones on Fredrick's desk.
"Just had a great date, that's all," Fredrick replied, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Alexander's interest was piqued, "Oh? Who was it this time? I don't think I've seen you this giddy after a date before. And you've been on loads."
"Stacey Brown." Fredrick answered, making his swivel chair spin.
"Oh, I see… the same Stacey Brown whose guts you hate, and who cannot stand to be in the same space as you?" Alexander inquired with furrowed brows. Fredrick's joy didn't make sense to him. So far, he had only said the worse about Stacey.
Fredrick nodded, pulling his chair closer to Alexander. "The same one. And let me tell you, she's one captivating lady. I mean, she's as confusing as all women are, but she's… more."
"Hmm… tell me more."
As they chatted, Fredrick's enthusiasm was palpable. He gestured animatedly, his hands painting vivid pictures of their evening together. Alexander listened intently, a knowing glint in his eye.
"So, you're smitten then," Alexander stated, a hint of a tease in his voice.
Fredrick's smile faltered for a moment before he regained his composure. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
Alexander chuckled, relaxing into his seat. "I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself, Fred. Although, I do not know how long this one would last."
"I think much longer than either of us would expect."
"Why?"
"Well… I just feel it?"
"You said that about the last three ladies you dated."
"This one is different, Alex. At least, I know she's not after my money or anything like that. Plus, we started off as mortal enemies… not that we're friends yet," he added as he remembered the way the date ended. "But… doesn't most love stories in movies begin the same way? Enemies to lovers, and a happily ever after?"
Alexander cackled, "So, you're betting your relationship on movies?"
Fredrick grinned, "Why not? I've got nothing to lose."
"Yeah, right." Alexander concurred, still laughing. "But, really, I have to ask… what is the real story behind this sudden interest in Stacey?"
Fredrick's expression turned guarded, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"
Alexander leaned forward, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Come on, Fred. You've been telling me about your parents' attempts to set you up with her for a while now. What you've not said is why. I know that there's more to it than just your fathers being friends. So, what's the real reason they're pushing this arrangement? And more importantly, why are you finally considering it?"
Fredrick's gaze drifted away, his jaw clenched in a subtle display of tension. "It's just family stuff, Alex. Nothing to worry about."
Alexander's eyes lingered on Fredrick's face, searching for signs of deception. But Fredrick's mask was firmly in place, revealing nothing. Alexander shrugged, letting the matter drop for now. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad you're taking it in stride. And," he grinned, "enjoying the perks it seems."
Fredrick's grin returned, and he launched into a detailed account of their date, and where next he intends to take Stacey. As they wrapped up their conversation, Alexander stood, clapping Fredrick on the back.
"Glad to see you're doing well, man. Keep me posted on how things develop with Stacey okay?"
Fredrick nodded, "Sure thing. By the way, what did you need? I believe you said something about the models on your way here?"
"Ah, yes! My assistant has mailed everything to you. Those are the models we think will do justice to your new clothing line. So, finalize with your team, and let us know when we can do the shoot."
Fredrick nodded, his hand already navigating the cursor on his laptop screen to pull up the mail. "Thanks man, you're the best."
As Alexander left the office, Fredrick's thoughts lingered on his friend's questions. He knew Alexander was perceptive, but he wasn't ready to share the entire truth just yet. Things were only getting more complicated, and he didn't want to drag Alexander into all that drama just yet.
The weight of his secrets felt heavier with each passing day, but he pushed them aside, and focused on work; he had a fashion show to pull off in a matter of weeks.
***
Fredrick was ready for bed. He sent a quick text to Stacey first, another apology. He tried to make this one sound sincere. He didn't understand why she was making a big deal out of just a kiss, but he was sure of something; she wanted him as much as he did her. There was a hunger in the way she kissed him back that couldn't have just been a spur of the moment thing. She has refused to take his calls, so he'd resorted to sending her messages. If she still refused to speak to him, he would go to her house.
He placed his phone beside his bedside clock, and closed his eyes, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. He sank into a deep sleep, his mind surrendering to the darkness.
He found himself back in the cathedral where he'd met Carina and Oded, the air thick with incense. He wore a long, flowing robe, its hem brushing against the cold stone floor. Stacey lay before him, her wrists and ankles bound to something that looked like an altar. A white dress draped her body, its purity a stark contrast to the ominous atmosphere.
Hooded figures encircled them, their faces hidden in the shadows. He only recognized two of those figures – one was Oded, and the other Carina. He tried to call out to them, but his voice seemed stuck in his throat. The group chanted in unison, their voices a haunting melody that sent shivers down Fredrick's spine. But, rather than feel strange, he felt a sense of purpose, as if he was destined for this moment.
Stacey's eyes locked onto his, pleading and terrified. She struggled against her restraints, the stench of her fear mixing with the air. Fredrick's gaze never wavered, his expression serene. He raised his hand, and a gleaming knife materialized in his palm.
Its blade, slender and curved, was etched with ancient scribblings that seemed to shimmer and dance in the sim light. The hilt was crafted from a dark, polished wood, adorned with intricate carvings. The handle fit comfortably in Fredrick's palm, as if molded to his hand alone.
The chanting grew louder, the hooded figures closing in. Stacey's cries echoed through the chamber, her body trembling. Fredrick 's grip on the knife tightened so much, he could feel the carvings on the handle of the blade leave imprints on his palm. Then, as the chanting seemed to climb to its peak, his arm descending in a swift motion.
The blade plunged into Stacey's chest, her eyes wide with shock, as blood spluttered out of her mouth. Her pristinely white dress gradually turned red with her blood.
Fredrick felt no horror, no guilt. Only a sense of fulfilment, as if he had completed a sacred task. The hooded figures bowed their heads in unison, their chanting ceasing. The hall fell silent, except for Stacey's labored breathing and painful wincing. Then, one by one, the hooded figures retreated into the shadows, cackling as they went… until it was just Fredrick and Stacey.
Fredrick suddenly let go of the knife, and dropped to his knees beside Stacey. He placed both palms over her chest where he'd stabbed her, but it was no use. It felt like he'd just broken out of a spell.
"Stacey!" He screamed. But her heart had already stopped beating. She looked white, and wrinkled; like every drop of blood in her body had been drained, and she had aged by a hundred years.
"Staceyyyy!!!"
The dream shattered. Fredrick jumped awake, still screaming Stacey's name as he gasped for air. His heart raced, his sheets drenched in sweat and fear. He stared into the darkness, his mind reeling from the vivid nightmare. He clapped twice, turning on the light in the room.
As the light came on, his eyes noticed something on his right palm, something that looked like a depression from holding onto something.
"The knife!" he beathed, eyes bulging out of their sockets. He shook his head, wiped his eyes, and tried to get his breathing under control.
As he caught his breath, his phone buzzed on the night stand, startling him. He looked at the clock, it was 3:35am. Who was texting him by this time?
He opened his phone to a message from Carina glowing on the screen.
"What you see is what must be.
The path you've begun is yours and yours alone.
Embrace your duty, Shomer."