Act I
Chapter I – The Blonde
Chapter I – The Blonde
Sighing as she gazed into her reflection, Niamh Murphy brushed a few loose strands of bleach blonde hair away from her temple, tucking them in neatly behind her ear. The remainder of her normally shoulder length hair sat on guard at the back of her head in a tight bun. Angling her face to either side, she appeared to be satisfied with her appearance, having given her usually pale skin tone a slightly darker, warmer complexion. Her look was distinctive, with a pair of killer, angled cheekbones that almost looked sculpted. Although now twenty-eight years of age, her appearance suggested that she was anywhere between twenty and thirty.
Finally, Niamh deftly inserted a pair of contact lenses before she spared another look at the mirror; a pair of dazzling azure eyes stared back at her. Her routine was thorough; Niamh had taken great care to refine every facet of her appearance, though to describe her as shallow, vain or in love with her own image would be a gross misrepresentation. That is not to say that she was unattractive – on the contrary, as her appearance at tonight’s venue was likely to turn more heads than not, even had she foregone the majority of her preparations – rather, her elaborate routine served a practical purpose in place of self-gratification.
Her phone buzzed, causing Niamh to instinctively pick it up from the copper-coloured marble surface adjacent to her bathroom sink, without looking. Glancing at the screen, she quickly typed a reply. “Great, I’m heading out now. See you later,” it simply read. Niamh returned the phone to its previous location and looked back towards the mirror, almost wearily.
“Ten years to the day.” Niamh muttered to herself, letting out a sigh of apparent exhaustion. It wasn’t uncommon for her thoughts to drift back to that day, but these recollections always seemed to manifest more often – and with greater intensity – whenever she was about to go out somewhere. Niamh supposed that it wasn’t any great surprise that it was happening now, since today was an ‘anniversary’. That didn’t make it any easier, though the years had numbed her feelings somewhat; what once had boiled, now simmered intently.
--
She’d never been fond of the dark, but this was a darkness like Niamh had never felt before. Not like the dark at bedtime, when light is just the flick of a switch away, but an unrelenting, inescapable, pitch black. Niamh would have peeled away the many tight bands of tape wrapped around her head and covering her eyes if she could, but her arms were mercifully pinioned behind her back, beyond what could have been considered necessary. Further wraps of industrial strength kept her knees pressed up against her chest, yet this was also superfluous – the cramped closet Niamh had been packed into wouldn’t have allowed her to stretch her legs in any case.
Niamh couldn’t know for sure, but she felt that her claustrophobic location exacerbated the darkness she was subjected to. The locked doors of the closet also muffled any sound that permeated through them, further adding to her isolation. This worked both ways, dampening any sound that she herself attempted to make. Not that she could do this to any great extent, with her mouth packed full of some kind of fabric, though she had no idea what had been used to silence her. Of greater concern to her were the uncomfortably tight layers of tape surrounding the lower portion of her face in a vice-like grip. Niamh had long since given up crying out for help; either nobody outside the closet could hear her, or they were simply ignoring her. She didn’t know which was worse.
--
To an outsider, Lucas might have seemed to be a broody, melancholy type, but this could simply be accounted for by the deep, baritone quality of his voice. Not to mention the fact that he was a fairly guarded person at times who rarely volunteered information about himself, meaning that some considered him to be aloof, too. For some people however – often women – these traits gave him a mysterious air which he chose to lean into more often than not. His rugged good looks likely had something to do with the intrigue he unwittingly commanded from some people, however.
Not normally one to spend a great deal of time on his appearance before going out, Lucas had tonight made something of an exception. He had applied a small amount of wax to his short, jet-black hair, giving it a smart, slick appearance. A strong jawline was marked by some carefully groomed stubble, and Lucas had taken the liberty of cracking open his most expensive aftershave that was certain to get him noticed when he approached someone, and remembered once he had left.
Surveying his surroundings, Lucas was satisfied that his efforts ensured that he fit in here. It wasn’t a bar that he had frequented much before, so he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Dressed in a well-fitting leather jacket and a smart pair of dark jeans, his attire wasn’t dissimilar to that of many of the guys here. The décor of the place was stylish and modern, and though it was too lively to be described as classy, it was hardly a dive. The drinks were still a rip-off though, Lucas thought to himself bitterly as he sipped his whisky.
The table he was sat at, accompanied by a friend he had tagged along with, was one of many that surrounded the main floor, where plenty of patrons were enjoying the music that blared out of some unseen speakers. Lucas wasn’t in much of a talkative mood, partly because his friend’s attention was currently focussed on a charming redhead wearing an almost scandalously short skirt, and partly because he seemed to waiting for something as he cast his gaze across the bar.
After another few uneventful minutes, Lucas’ eyes settled on a blonde woman making her way to the bar as a few rays of light reflected off the sparkly pair of silver trousers she was wearing. At this point, Lucas took a deep breath, downed the remainder of his glass of whisky, and promptly made his way across the floor towards the bar.
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Even from outside, the rowdy atmosphere of the house’s interior was palpable, with the sound of music channelled through some kind of speaker mixing with raised, excited voices. With some apprehension, Niamh approached the front door, and rang the bell. There was a moment’s pause, during which the noise did not abate in the slightest, before the door was opened, and the cacophony spilled out into the street like the contents of Pandora’s box, if it had contained debauchery rather than outright evil.
Stood on the threshold of the door was another girl, exactly eighteen years of age, and the object of many of her peers’ affections. Wavy, golden-brown locks of hair tumbled down past her shoulders, but they had clearly been carefully curled recently. Her lips were full and inviting, while the nature of her eyes was cool and gentle like the waters of a calm ocean, but no less enticing. At this party she was hosting for most of the college year group, her figure inspired either admiration, envy, or both, depending on who you asked.
“Hey Portia, how are you?” Niamh smiled, nervously shifting her feet, though her nerves weren’t on account of her host, but rather the setting.
“Oh, hey Niamh! Great to see you, come on in!” Portia’s voice rang out loudly as she made herself heard over the top of the music, before she beckoned Niamh inside and gave her a brief, polite hug. Following Portia, Niamh willingly followed her into the house, immediately scanning her surroundings for any more familiar faces. She glanced back towards Portia to speak to her, but the other girl was already preoccupied with greeting more guests.
--
As he crossed the bar, Lucas diverted his attention from the loud music and clusters of people as he politely pushed past them, zeroing in on the sight before him at the bar. A few inches taller than six foot, Lucas had little trouble keeping sight of the girl at the bar as he made his way through the crowds towards her. She appeared to be alone for now, apparently waiting to be served. Unless his eyes were deceived, he suspected that this wouldn’t take long. Without hesitation, Lucas took the opportunity to perch himself on a stool right next to the girl, angling his body to face her.
“Hey - you’re Marie’s friend, right? I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Lucas,” he said, holding out his hand as a means of introduction. Turning to face him, the blonde appeared to be surprised as she raised her eyebrows briefly, before a look of recognition settled over her features.
“Oh, hey there! You’re right, I think she’s mentioned you a couple of times – were you at her party the other week?” The young woman asked him. She appeared to look at Lucas appraisingly, and held a confident expression when not speaking, and rarely broke eye contact, which he was keen to maintain.
“Yeah – pretty good one, right? Anyway, just recognised you so wanted to come and say hi. Are you here with anyone?”
“I’m with a few work friends, we’ve got a booth upstairs,” she said, lifting her chin to gesture upwards, causing a small pendant around her neck to catch the light in front of Lucas. He nodded in response, leaning an arm against the bar casually.
“That’s a nice necklace you’ve got – Tiffany’s?” Lucas asked, flashing her a charismatic smile to let her know that his compliment was genuine, even if his estimation of its origin was blatantly optimistic. It got a warm laugh out of her though – flattery was apparently an effective tactic.
“Thank you – it’s not sadly, but it was a lovely present I was given a year ago,” she explained. Lucas continued to chat with her long after both of them had received fresh drinks, and he found that it wasn’t too difficult to keep her attention. Once she had subtly placed a hand on his knee, Lucas decided that things had moved along as well as could have hoped tonight.
“As much as I’d love to, I don’t want to keep you from your friends all night, so I’ll let you go,” he said, picking up his half empty glass from the bar.
“That’s fair – they’re probably starting to wonder why their shots haven’t arrived!” The blonde laughed, and stood up to give Lucas a warm hug. “I’d love to carry this on another time, so how about I give you my number and you can give me a call?” Lucas smiled, nodding, surprised but pleased that he hadn’t even needed to ask the question himself.
A few moments later, phone numbers exchanged, Lucas watched the girl depart the bar and head back upstairs. With no further reason for staying, he promptly said goodbye to the friend he had arrived with and went outside to find a quiet spot. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he quickly dialled a number and waited for a response, speaking up once he heard someone answer.
“You there, Niamh? I’m just leaving – phase one is complete.”
