Chapter 31
Petra’s eyes held a faraway look as she began to pace, but Kathy could swear that she saw the madness that lurked behind them. The knife glinted menacingly, as the fading sunlight cast long shadows across the room that’d now taken on an eerie glow.
“You see, she loves me, she’s always loved me. She even said so this afternoon when I went to see her. She said that she was going to come and see you and tell you that we’re going to be together, have the life that we’ve always dreamed of. I thought she’d be here by now. That’s why I came. I wanted to hear her say it, see the look on your face when you found out.” Her speech pattern was short and rapid, her sentences disjointed as though she was reading from a manual.
Witnessing the slow unravelling, Kathy felt as though she could see reality slipping away from the woman before her. The cloak of insanity that was slowly shrouding her, descending instead. Her gaze was haunted and wild. It was clear that trying to rationalise wasn’t going to work, but neither was sitting on the sofa waiting for Petra to make her next, insane move.
As Petra became transfixed by the setting sun beyond the glass, Kathy gingerly got to her feet. The room was freezing cold from the open balcony door and her limbs were stiff because of it, but she stood to her full height without her uninvited guest noticing. Kathy wondered if she could get to the kitchen in time to arm herself if she upended the table towards Petra to distract her. It was heavy, but she could do it. She had no other choice. If she used enough force, she reasoned that the table might be enough to take Petra’s legs out from under her and land her on her behind to slow her down even more. Okay, Harland, time to stop thinking and take some action! She threw her upper body towards the table and grabbed the edge with both hands, not even looking to see what Petra’s response would be. Using all her strength, Kathy upended the table with a deafening crash as the crystal bowl that had been its centrepiece, shattered on the wooden flooring. Kathy sprinted towards the kitchen, the sound of her heartbeat thudding in her ears as she moved.
Petra jumped back, away from the table that tumbled towards her legs and vaulted over the top of it to grab Kathy before she could reach the back of the apartment. Her long legs allowed her to gain on the shorter woman easily and she rugby tackled her to the ground, the knife flying from her grip as she did so. Nessun Dorma began its slow opening in the background – the soundtrack to their battle.
Kathy hit the floor hard and felt the air leave her lungs, Petra landing on top of her first before momentum rolled her off. Her muscular arms, however, were still locked firmly around Kathy’s upper body, pinning her arms to her sides. Kathy kicked out behind her, trying to make contact with shins, knees, anything that would hurt if she delivered a blow in the right place.
None shall sleep! None shall sleep. You too, princess… Pavarotti’s tenor voice filled the room.
Holding tight, Petra’s panting breath was hot and sickly sweet beside Kathy’s ear. Kathy pulled away, forced her arms up under Petra’s and grabbed a thumb. She forced it back hard and heard the snap of the bone breaking, making Petra scream out in agony and break her grip.
But the mystery of me is locked inside of me…
With desperation, she scrambled away, her sock-clad feet sliding on the wooden floor after losing her slippers in the struggle. Forcing herself upright, she tried to propel herself away quick enough to reach the knife, but Petra was too fit, too young, and gained on her again, knocking her out of the way as she swooped to the floor and grabbed at it with her uninjured hand. Kathy sprinted across the room, pieces of broken crystal biting through her socks and into her feet, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins blocked out any sense of pain. She made it as far as the bedroom door before Petra gained on her again, raising the knife high above her before bringing her arm down hard. Kathy ducked, but not before the blade caught her left arm, tearing through the bare flesh. She screamed out, more through shock than pain as blood began to run over her skin and drip to the floor as Petra’s momentum sent her crashing through the bedroom door.
No one will know my name…
She ran towards the patio doors, desperate to summon, even if it meant screaming her lungs out in the open air. She could hear Petra scrambling to her feet behind her and she threw herself out onto the balcony, losing her footing as she did so and grabbing frantically at the handle to pull the doors closed behind her. She wasn’t fast enough, Petra burst through the gap and threw herself towards Kathy. Using both feet, Kathy kicked out, the heel of her foot making instant contact with the side of Petra’s knee causing her to buckle and hit the ground, giving Kathy just enough time to scramble to her feet again. She reached out for the door, but Patra pulled at her. Kathy purposely threw herself backwards, forcing Petra up against the balcony rail, causing her enough pain to loosen the grip.
Petra’s legs went from under her and her body reeled back. Petra’s face morphed from shock to disbelief as her arms flailed in mid-air as she fought to regain her balance, but it was futile.
And we will, unfortunately, have to die, die!
Standing frozen in place, Kathy held her breath as momentum forced Petra’s torso over the rail and gravity took her past the point of no return.
The thud sounded as though a bomb had gone off below Kathy, and as much as she didn’t want to look, she knew she had to. She braced herself against the rail and leaned over to the street below where cars were parked in a neat line on the road. The piercing wail of the silver Jaguar’s alarm was the only remaining sound in the early evening darkness as Petra Smythe lay on its caved in roof, a pool of blood slowly seeping from her head like a halo of darkness.
The sob that wracked Kathy’s body was the most inhuman sound she’d ever heard as her legs crumpled beneath her and she wrapped her arms over her head, rocking in anguish and disbelief as the realisation hit her. Petra Smythe was dead. After four and a half years of terror at her hands, the nightmare was finally over, and she was free. She threw her head back and roared at the skies, just as a crack of lightning lit it up an electric blue.