DEON stood on the rusted railing of the Blackwood Bridge, the wind whistling a eulogy through the iron girders. Below, the river was a churning ribbon of ink, promising the silence he'd been craving for months. He took a breath, closing his eyes to let go—until a cheerful voice shattered the stillness.
"You're doing it all wrong. The angle is total rubbish."
Deon nearly tumbled backward in shock. Perched on the ledge just feet away was a woman in faded ripped jeans, black statement shirt, worn and torn sneakers, swinging her legs over the abyss as if she were sitting on a park bench.
Where did this woman come from? He didn't hear any footsteps nor noticed any people coming near him. It's already eleven in the evening, nearly twelve midnight and all he hears is the cricket noises and the sound of the strong current of the river underneath the bridge where he's standing right now.
"Who… are you?"
"I'm Avina."
Deon stared at the woman's right hand trying to reach him, asking him to shake it as a sign of greetings. The woman noticed his warriness towards her so she took back her hand and shrugged it off.
"Are you gonna jump?"
He didn't utter a word and just took his gaze back to the flowing waters of the river. He doesn't want to be swayed by an unknown woman. He already decided that today is the day that he's gonna finish it all. He can't bear to get back to his house since a lot of people are probably waiting for him. This is the best solution that he could think of. Those people are gonna kill him anyway, so why not do it by himself?
"Why do you want to die anyway?" she asked, her eyes wide and unnervingly bright. Before he could stammer an answer, she leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Do you want some help? I'm an expert. This is my favorite spot, actually. The current is so aggressive that the bodies disappear almost instantly once I toss them over. No mess, no fuss."
The cold void in Deon's chest was suddenly replaced by a sharp, primal jolt of terror. This wasn't a fellow soul in pain; this was a predator in jeans and a t-shirt. Panic finally came into his system when he smelled the familiar metallic, sharp scent of blood. A chill ran down his spine when he noticed that the woman's bottom hem of the jeans was soaking wet with a bright, red fluid.
Who is she? Why is she here? Did those gangsters send her to finally kill him? Over a debt that he didn't even know about until those ruthless thugs barged into his house?
"I... I changed my mind," he whispered, scrambling to climb back onto the safety of the walkway. "I'm going home."
"Oh, don't be a bore!" she shrieked, her laughter echoing like breaking glass.
"No, seriously," he cleared his throat continuously.
As his feet touched the pavement, she lunged. With a strength that defied her frame, she shoved him hard into the empty air. The last thing Deon heard was her manic, delighted scream: "Wait for me!" followed by the rush of wind and a second splash.
***
DEON didn't wake up in the afterlife. He woke up to the smell of strong alcohol mixed with a musky perfume. His head throbbed, and when he tried to move, a heavy, metallic clink stopped him cold.
His eyes wander in panic, only to be frozen in place when he realized that he woke up in a clean, well maintained bedroom. He's expecting that he's in an abandoned place, room full of broken furnitures, dust flying around, ceiling and walls covered in spiderwebs not this room with a large shelf full of thick books, walls with expensive looking paintings, full body sized mirror with a shining golden frame and a crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the room that gives light on every corner of these four walls.
The sound of a metal being sharpened against a rough stone caught his attention. Deon looked at the left corner of the room near the balcony door. There she is. The strange, blood-reeking woman who pushed him yesterday down the river and then eventually jumped off too while laughing maniacally.
He can feel that he's in danger, but he can't think of a way on how to escape this place. The only thing he knows is that he needs to get away from this woman.
The woman probably felt his gaze, she looked up, her expression shifting from a vacant stare to a terrifyingly wide smile. "You're awake! Good. I've never had a toy that tried to break itself before I got a chance to play with it. We're going to have so much fun together, Deon."
The bridge had been a choice. This was a nightmare.