Freezing

Kristina awoke and was immediately aware of being incredibly cold. She raised, or rather tried to raise her head but it wouldn’t move. She tried again but failed. Then, she became aware of the fact that she was somehow stuck to the ground. The right side of her face felt completely numb…much of the rest of her did too. Her vision was also blurred. After a few moments, she finally managed to lift her head, slowly peeling her cheek away from the ground as she did so.

“Oh whoa,” she breathed aloud, as her head started spinning. Her cheek hurt and she shivered with cold.

She summoned up the energy to push herself up by her elbows and then her hands, finally managing to sit up and take in her surroundings. She moved her hands across the ground and felt ice all around her. She felt confused and disorientated.

“Where am I?” she muttered to herself, trembling with cold.

It was dark but there was a glow of light coming from somewhere. She could make out a long path, which ended with what looked like a garage, the source of the glow.

Then, about a metre away, she could see a plastic bag, partially open.

Is that money?

She carefully stretched over and pulled the bag toward her. Opening it, she could see it was filled with wads of bank notes. Grasping the bag and without managing to make any sense of the situation, an inner strength pushed her to raise herself to her feet, after which she immediately lost her footing and landed squarely on the ice-covered asphalt.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, the fall bringing her further back to reality.

Now she could see more clearly, focused by various points of pain emanating from her body. She pushed herself up once again, managed to stand and then staggered gingerly to the end of the path. She grasped a vertical post and raised herself to her full height. She stood for a moment and steadied herself. Having an opportunity to take in her surroundings properly now, she could make out a house along the path and to her right, her car.

She panicked and felt her pockets. As she did so, she touched her leather purse in one pocket and in the other, her fingers contacted the solid corner of her mobile phone. She breathed a sigh of relief and managed to take it out. Pressing the home button, though, the screen failed to respond, left lifeless by the cold.

She made her way over to her car, illuminated by the faint glow of a low-powered bulb. She tried the door. It was locked. She checked her pockets again but there was no key. Moving around the car, she checked each door in turn, however, it was secure. She decided to make her way to the house. As she did so, she felt herself staggering.

Am I drunk?

Bravely continuing across the ice, she managed to get to the front door. She rang the bell and waited. Nothing. So, she rang it again.

Why is nobody answering? Have I just been here? Or was I on my way here?

After another unsuccessful attempt, she stood back and realised that the front door was slightly ajar. Pushing the door open, she stepped into the hallway. As soon as she was inside, she was glad of the warmth that wrapped around her. She closed the door gently and it obliged with a soft click. Just standing there made her feel better, however, after a moment, she became aware of some pain as the warmth penetrated her almost frozen body. She sat down on a bench until she began to feel her limbs, placing the bag of money carefully beside her. It took a further few minutes before she stepped forward to open an inner door.

“Hello?” Kristina whimpered, looking around. She vaguely recognised it but couldn’t quite remember where she was. It was very dim but she could make out some soft lights and a few candles. She entered the room and spoke.

“Hello….is anyone there?” There was no reply. Then again, louder, “Hello?”

Just silence. She started to walk around the room, the feeling now properly returning to her legs. Taking in her surroundings, it seemed like a normal house, Various doors led off from an open reception room, set with large sofas and a high ceiling. Seeing a brighter light to her left, she made her way toward it and found a bathroom in front of her. She squinted for a moment as the brightness of the room entered her eyes. Gradually, she became accustomed to the light and found herself looking into a large mirror. What she saw in front of her, shocked her.

In front of her, stood a woman with a fitted black dress, covered with what looked like blood. She moved closer and noticed the red stains on her face, on her hair and on her dress. She started to panic, gasping for breath. She struggled and felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She could taste blood in her mouth and shook her head in disbelief. Then, her hands found the sink and she grasped onto it to steady herself. After a few moments, she pushed down hard and raised her head in order to look directly into her own eyes. She studied them, as they critically observed her. Those distinctive, emerald, green eyes, the facial area around which, was stained with mascara. She wanted to wash but now was not the time.

“Okay,” she breathed and left the bathroom to check the rest of the house.

She switched on the living room light and and could see that the living room was tastefully designed and perfectly laid out. The sofa cushions were in their place, plants were creatively displayed and a bottle of wine sat on the low coffee table together with two glasses.

She strode across the space and opened the door to what she guessed was the main bedroom. As the door swung open, she saw someone sprawled across the bed, face downwards. The body was wearing a dark suit with its head to one side. She could just make out a vaguely familiar face.

Do I know him?

Unsure of whether to run or hide at this point, she chose instead to move forward and ascertain the identity of who lay in front of her. She bent down on one knee and lifted the head.

“No. It can’t be?” she exclaimed, feeling faint.

It was hard to think but what she could make out, was that it was James lying face down on her bed, not breathing. She had blood all over her and had awoken on the path outside with a bag of money beside her. Things didn’t look good.

Instinct told her to call someone, the police, a friend…anyone! Self-control took over though and after breathing deeply for a few more moments, she walked out of the room and checked the house, room by room. However, except for James’s body in the bedroom, she was alone. She went to the doorway once again and looked outside. She shuddered, as a combination of the temperature and the situation she found herself in, hit home.

She closed the door and on re-entering the room, noticed some cables hanging from an extension unit. She removed her phone from her pocket and plugged it into one. Her phone would awake momentarily. Her head twinged with pain and she held it for a moment.

It must have been from when I fell on the ice!

The doorbell rang.

Oh my god. What do I do?

She thought for what seemed like an eternity. Then, gathering her thoughts, she decided that the only obvious thing to do was to open the door. She walked across the room, placed her hand onto the handle and opened it.

Standing in the doorway was a uniformed police officer. Kristina suddenly felt weak again and sat down on the bench.

“Are you alright?” the officer said and then, “Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m okay. I think so,” she replied weakly.

“What happened?” he asked, sinking down onto one knee.

“I don’t know. I woke up outside. I think he's dead.”

At this news, the officer took his police radio and spoke, calling his partner inside, who had been sitting in their car.

At her arrival, the first officer told her, “Stay here and I will check inside the house.”

Kristina nodded her head in agreement, whimpering incoherently, as she did so. The female officer examined her face and asked her to remain seated.

After about a minute, the male officer returned and announced simultaneously into his radio and to his colleague, “Someone is dead in the bedroom. We need a forensics team here.”

They took her inside the house and sat her down onto one of the sofas. She sank into the soft cushions and felt comforted for a moment. A glass of water appeared in her hands, which she took appreciatively and took a long drink but gagged, as she gulped too much at once.

“Not all at once,” the female officer warned and carefully helped her to finish the glass.

The door opened and more people started to arrive. Kristina watched the scene as if she was in another place.

Maybe I am just watching a film at the cinema? She smiled to herself and sank into her comfortable seat. Then she became aware of the female officer watching her with a strange expression. She came back to reality and realised that this was not in fact, a cinema. Her smile fell from her face. She started crying, uncontrollably.

“She is in shock,” a voice said and she became aware of her sleeve being rolled up and hands placed on her. She screamed.

“There, there, it’s okay. Just relax,” another voice said.

She felt a sharp pain in her arm and looking down, saw a needle. They were injecting her with something. She started to resist but she was being held down. After a while, the room began to swim, her eyes closed and her body relaxed.

“So what happened here?” a new voice asked, one with authority and direction.

Another voice replied, “We have a body in the bedroom and a bag of money in the hall-way. She is covered in blood. We have found a possible murder weapon, a blood-stained lamp in the bedroom. There are signs of a struggle but we can't see any signs of anyone else being involved. It could be that she murdered him.”

The detective knelt down and sniffed the wine glasses, “Have forensics check these, just in case.” And then, “Anything else? the voice of authority asked.

“Just this,” the other voice said.

The detective looked over. There, lying on the table, was a small black notebook. He took out a pen and used it to carefully open the pages. He could see that there were different names, dates and times listed, one on each page. About halfway through, he reached the last entry. It was written in large capital letters.

March 1st. Meet Kristina. 8pm.

The detective left the scene as the forensics team began to examine the body, the bag of money and the small black notebook.

“I wonder what happened here?” the detective asked, shaking his head, as Kristina was taken away from the house, wrapped in a blanket.

The detective cast his eyes downward. Perhaps the truth would emerge over the following days?

What exactly had happened here could all be revealed by the contents of the small, black notebook...