Excerpt from short story, Death Sleep


“You are mine! The only friends you can have are the ones I choose,” Stephen shouted.

Stephen thought that he had won when he saw Heather kiss each of them goodbye. But, Heather walked out of the smelly room and left Stephen to dispose of their bodies in the tunnels under this Water Street inn. 

With disappointment, Stephen saw that his plan did not work as well as he thought it would. Something had changed. Heather leaving the room was like a slap across his face. 

"Well, let her stew in her own juices for a while, there’s nothing she can do to me!  I’ll tell her customers that she’s sick."

Penelope and Roy’s deaths were the last straw for Heather. She paced in Penelope’s room for a long time fuming at her powerlessness. She ripped herself out of the fancy dress and threw the sapphires against the wall. She was tired of this “man” running her life and making the rules. 

"I’m a grown, intelligent woman who should have been able to live by my own rules once I left my father’s house.  Penelope was right. Stephen would have never allowed me to become pregnant. He has lied to me for two years. But, what can I do? "

Heather returned to Stephen’s room after his strangely beautiful form fell into death-sleep the next morning. She fell into a short sleep herself before she moaned herself awake with grief over Penelope and Roy.