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Marie is finally inside her home. The sun had set at last, but there's still a lingering tinge of golden orange still settling upon the horizon. Her shoes, socks and jacket had all left her body and, with a contented sigh, walks towards the steps. The phone rings; something she wasn't expecting. “great...” she says to no one in particular as she answers it on the second ring.

“Hello?”
“Marie? Hey, it's Howie.”
“Howie! Hey! How are you?”

She sets herself upon her recliner entangling her fingers around the coiled phone cord. She loved talking to Howie; to her, he was the only person she could actually find solace in. Outside Catherine and Diahanne, Howie's close to a best friend as possible.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” she began with a smile.
“Well, I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me tomorrow evening?”
“Of course. I'd love to.”

Love: the one word Howie wanted to hear her say to him, even if it was an agreement for another date. He sat back a little as the word bounced and resonated in his mind.

“Are you still there?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm here, Marie. How about Chez Francois, around 7-ish?”
“7 is fine.”
“That's wonderful. I'll see you then, alright?”
“You got it, D.”

Nick was standing by her window watching her talk to Howie. He heard every word of the conversation, and he became infuriated. She told him NOT to date him, but she didn't listen.

“How could she...?”

Ever so quietly, he eased himself away from the window, and towards the back entrance. It was there that he finds the door unlocked. “No need for a lock pick,” he whispers while carefully opening the door, easing in. Marie hangs the phone up, and gets up heading for the kitchen.

Neverminding the bath, she decided to get a little snack instead. She goes into the fridge to retrieve sandwich makings. While closing the door, she jumps 40 feet in the air; Nick was standing there, not in a cheerful mood.

“Nick...what in the--”

He slowly walked up to her, his hands folded behind his back.

“I...asked you...so many times, to NOT go out with him...didn't I?”
“What are you doing her--”
“That's NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! I TOLD you not to date Howie, and you didn't listen...you didn't LISTEN!”

Marie stepped away from him until she was against the counter. She held on for dear life as he approached her again.

“Tsk tsk tsk...what do I have to do with you? Huh?”
“Ge....get out,” she let the words slither out of her mouth; the tone was mixed with fear as well as anger.

“What did you say to me?”
“I SAID GET OUT! You don't own me, OR have the right to tell me what I can or cannot do! I was a fool to get involved with you!”

As she was about to open the back door for him to leave, she quickly notices her butcher knife behind his back.

“Oh, no...” She whispered, but it was too late.

She was about to dart out of the kitchen, but he grabbed her hair, yanking her towards him. Her back was to his chest, her head on his shoulder, and the sharp blade lightly touching her neck. Trapped.

“Now, I am going to tell you this...ONE LAST TIME. Stay...away...from Howard Dorough.”

Tears were streaming from her eyes and down her cold, frightened cheeks.

Struggling to speak, she managed to say, “Wh...why...?”

“Because, he's a whore...a womanizer, if you will. You're lucky he didn't try to force you when you first dated him. I tried catching him in the act, but I couldn't. Now, he wants you. I WON'T have it happen to me again!”

“Th...then talk to HIM...why are you doing this?”

“To teach you a lesson, my love. Don't cross me.”

He pushes her away from him causing her to fall to the ground.

He drops the knife in front of her and steps away from her frigid body. He finally walked to the backdoor and turned back to her with a smile.

“Remember what I said, now.”

And after a kiss blown to her, he leaves.

All that was left in that kitchen, was a crying, damaged woman, who is now trapped in his twisted, disturbed web.