Written In Blood

Prologue

"You fucking bitch! Look what you've made me do," He snarled, screaming the words even though his face was barely a foot from hers. "All I was doing was copping a feel; why'd you have to overreact?"

Darkness crept into the edges of Georgina's vision as she gasped for breath. She was a passive person usually, but when He began pawing at her, as he had back in the Land Rover, she found the courage and the strength to fight. She clawed at the hand that groped at her breasts and tore at her dress, and then at the hand that was squeezing her throat. When she failed to stop him that way she reached up to his face, searching for either his throat or his eyes.

He continued to tear at her dress and grope at her with one hand, while he took the other from her throat so he could keep her hands from his own. Once, twice, three times he pushed her groping hands away, until finally, he got angry – angrier – balled his hand into a fist and punched her.

"Lie still, you little bitch," He ordered, hitting her hard in the face and rocking her head to the side. "If you don't fight, this won't hurt." He immediately gave the lie to his words by hitting her a second time, splitting her lip and drawing blood.

Georgina was afraid of what he was now capable of doing, and that fear, and the adrenaline it flooded her system with, gave her the strength to buck and heave like a bronco trying to rid itself of a rodeo rider. It came as such a surprise when the weight of his body on her shifted and lessened that she almost didn't react in time to free herself.

It was a second or so before she realised that she could move, and when she did she scrambled out from under him. As she did so she kicked out, hitting him in the groin. His face twisted into a grimace of agony, while his mouth hung open, though no sound escaped him, and his hands clasped at his balls. Slowly, as though he was a tree felled by a lumberjack, He toppled over.

Her chest heaving, Georgina rolled onto her front and, with an enormous effort, pushed herself to her knees and then to her feet. She glanced quickly in the direction of her attacker but saw no sign of movement, which was a small comfort to her, and then set off across the field towards the trees. Her face hurt from the blows she had been struck, her throat felt as though his fingers were still around it, squeezing, and her lungs ached from the effort of trying to get air into them while he was strangling her, she couldn't move quickly so she half walked, half jogged, her eyes fixed on the trees that were her goal.

She would have been better off circling around and returning to the yard, from there she could have reached the village in about five minutes. Even if He made it back to his car there was little chance of him catching her, let alone stopping her, before she reached safety. None of that occurred to her, however; her thoughts were fixed on reaching safety, and she had already decided that safety lay within the trees on the other side of the field.

"Come back here, you bitch!"

The fear, which had been beginning to subside, returned at that, and Georgina felt a fresh burst of adrenaline flood her system. She spared a brief glance over her shoulder and saw that He was on his feet again and chasing after her. The sight made her increase her pace and she covered the final twenty or so yards in under five seconds to slip between the trunks of the trees nearest to her and into the darkness of the woods.

Despite having reached what her mind thought of as safety, she didn't stop, not until she had gone another thirty or so yards into them and felt certain he couldn't find her.

Georgina rested with her back against the trunk of a large oak and took deep breaths to calm herself. It was hard for her to remain calm, though, for every slight rustling noise she heard made her think that He was trying to creep up on her, making her heart thump a little more rapidly in her chest.

"Where are you, Georgie? Come on, Georgina, where are you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you like that. Come on, I'll take you home. I promise I won't hurt you again."

Georgina could hear Him crashing through the woods as he searched for her, and remained frozen where she was until the sounds of his approach grew to the point where she was sure He must find her at any moment. Frightened, she sought to slip away quietly through the trees, heading, she hoped, towards the far side of the woods and the river that would lead her back to the village.

Leaves, twigs, and branches all slapped and caught at her head, shoulders, and clothes as she sought to escape quickly. She made no effort to defend herself from her, her hands were too busy for that; her left clutched at her dress, holding the torn fabric to her chest in a vain effort to protect her modesty, while her right went to the belt at her waist, searching for her mobile phone. Dismay joined with her fear as she realised she had lost it and so couldn't call for help.

How long it took her to make through the woods to the fair side, she didn't know, but she was immensely relieved when she did. That relief disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when she realised she could see no sign of the village. Her eyes darted rapidly left and right as she tried to figure out where she was and, more importantly, where the village was; she should have been able to see the steeple of the church, which towered over the village, at the least, but not even that was visible. The only evidence of human habitation she could see were the ruins of an ancient stone building atop a hill a short distance to her right.

Georgina had just turned to her left, having decided that her best course of action was to follow the river, which was bound to lead her to the village, eventually, when He came crashing out of the woods. His chest was heaving, and his hair and clothes were a mess of leaves and twigs, which gave him the appearance of a crazed woodsman from a horror movie – the sight magnified her fear to even greater heights.

"There you are, Georgie, I've been looking all over for you," he said slowly between deep breaths.

Georgina felt like a rabbit in the headlights of an oncoming car; her brain screamed at her to run, the direction didn't matter so long as it was away from him, but her body wouldn't cooperate. She was glued to the spot and could only watch as he approached, one slow step at a time.