- () -

RED RIBBON

Prologue

- () -

"Genevieve," the man rasped.

Silent tears poured down Genevieve's face and she tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry from the cotton gag in her mouth.

"Now, now Genevieve, don't cry," he said in a mock soothing voice which made Genevieve shudder uncontrollably, "What colour do you suit?"

Idly he picked up strings of colourful ribbons, debating and consulted them with her skin tone, further grating on Genevieve's intense fear.

"I think the peach, how about you?" He murmured, holding the ribbon in front of her vision draped over his thin bony finger.

Genevieve whimpered, the orange ribbon glowed in the dark dank room like a beacon of hope, but it was all false she wasn't going to get out of here.

Taking clumps of her hair, he tied the curls into little bundles and finished each knot with a perfect bow.

"You have lovely hair," He whispered, picking up his sliver scissors.

Positioning the sharp blades under one ribbon there was a sharp 'snip' and the curl fell in his hand. Each snip seemed to ring louder and louder in her ears as the comfortable heaviness of her hair decreased to nothing.

"There – all mine," He said, picking up a curl and rubbing it against his cheek.

"Now," he breathed into her ear, "I'm done and so are you."

- () -

Serena jerked up from her bed, bringing her knees up she panted, her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Recalling her chilling dream, she scrambled from the suffocating bed and flicked on her side lamp. Shuffling through her desk she looked for her trusty note pad, locating it, she struggled to keep her silver pen within her fingers as she scribbled the details on a new page. Reading the entry, she took a shuddering breath as she added little details she had forgotten.

Slumping on her bed she glanced at her digital clock, 4:01. Fanning her face she came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to sleep again, especially after that horrifying dream.

Heading to the shower of her modest country cottage, she peeled her sweaty tank top off and started the shower. Sliding under the cascading water, she quickly lathered her silvery blonde locks and covered her body with thick foam. Finishing, Serena wrapped a towel round her body and shivered as she exited the steamy bathroom. Re-dressing she pulled on a pair of jeans, tee-shirt and zip up jacket before walking swiftly to her little office. Starting her lap-top she connected to the internet. Thinking for a moment, she presumed her dream ended with murder and typed in 'Genevieve homicide' then pushed search.

Serena was long out of the business of helping spirits, she used to work for the police as a detective but after a close encounter with death she had gone into hiding. To avoid being discovered, she stopped helping spirits and blocked out most dreams with amulets and charms. However, the dream of Genevieve had been so insistent she couldn't let it go.

Almost instantly links appeared on screen, scanning the brief summaries she clicked onto an American news site. At once her eyes were drawn to the bold title – 'Woman found bald.'

'Last week the body of missing woman Genevieve Ryan's was discovered in Central park, 72 hours after she first went missing. Miss Ryan was reported going to work Tuesday morning but never arrived. She was found Friday morning, wrapped in orange ribbon, her hair crudely removed. The nature of her murder is presumed to be by the Scissor Serial killer, who is responsible for seven other deaths over the space of 26 years. In the past cases the killer was never apprehended and all paths came to dead ends. Each woman was found in ordinary places, hairless and wrapped in ribbons of varying colours. Until the autopsy results are released the cause of death is yet to be determined.'

"Central park?" Serena pondered for a second, "Damn that's all the way in New York."

Groaning she turned her lap-top off and prepared breakfast. Devouring her crumpets, she grabbed her cordless phone and, single-handily, dialled Andrews's memorized number.

Patiently waiting, the phone was picked up by a sleepy Andrew.

"Hey Andrew!" She said.

"Serena its 5:15, let me sleep," he moaned.

"Shut up this is important," she snapped, "I had a dream –" Andrew groaned cutting her off.

"Listen to me you lazy idiot, I had a dream about a woman called Genevieve and I checked it out on the net and she was murdered last week. She and the other women killed by this Scissor Serial killer need my help!" She blurted quickly, not wanting to be interrupted.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Andrew said, "Slow down, repeat slowly, it's friggin' five in the morning!"

"I had a dream about a woman, her name is – was Genevieve. Got this?"

"Mmm," Andrew muttered.

"She was murdered last week, by the Scissor Serial killer –"

"Stupid name for a serial killer," Andrew grunted.

"It's not funny!" Serena scolded, "The murderer was never caught and he keeps re-offending. I feel her fear, her horror."

"Okay! Sorry, no need to bite my head off," Andrew said, trying to calm her down.

"So that was my dream, I know its important, but I think I'll need help," Serena hinted.

There was a pause at the other side, "So in other words you want me to come with you."

"Yeah, I need your help for when I become vulnerable."

"Fine, so where is this place," Andrew asked carelessly.

"Um," Serena said awkwardly.

"Spit it out Serena!"

"New York," she sighed.

"New York, you've got to be kidding me! That's a whole other continent!"

"I know Andrew, but I'll pay for your ticket. Just please come with me." Serena begged.

"Fine. A holiday would be quite nice I guess," he grumbled.

"I love you!" Serena declared.

"So how much time do I have?" Andrew asked.

"I'd start packing now, I'll try and get the soonest flight."

"Brill, now let me sleep," He said.

Serena laughed, "You're the greatest. Have a good snooze."

"I'll try, but you've destroyed it, I was having a nice dream about a hot brunette dressed in a bikini," Andrew muttered.

"You need to get a girlfriend," Serena suggested.

"And you are a hypocrite," Andrew retorted, putting the phone down.

Serena rolled her eyes and returned to her room. Digging within her closet, she pulled out her black rolling bag and began to pile her essentials within the cavity. Ticking off the items on her fingers, she tried to zip the bag closed, but the contents bulging within made it difficult. Sitting on the bag she managed to pull the zippers together and stick a lock on, by the time she had finished it was 6:30. Slipping on her knee length coat, she grabbed her hand bag and left the warm interior of her cottage into the frigid November weather.

Climbing into her four-wheel drive, she slipped her key into the ignition and started the diesel engine. Cruising through the driveway she made her way to London, keeping an eye out of the black ice on the country roads. Making it into town she stopped at the 24 hour supermarket and bought a cup of instant coffee. Serena smiled as she breathed in the strong pungent scent then, took a sip letting the hot liquid sear down her throat.

Over the next few hours, Serena purchased two tickets to New York and managed to organise all her bills and obligations, applying for leave from her job as a florist. Serena had to wince as she handed her card over to pay for everything – all that hard worked money! That money was intended to pay off her cottage mortgage, but Serena knew she had to help those women in New York – and protect future victims. As Serena walked through town she heard the twinkling of a phone and realized it was her own, fumbling through her bag she retrieved her cell phone and flicked it open.

"Hello?" She said.

"'Bout time," Andrew said, "You and technology just don't mix, still can't use your phone?"

"Oh shut up you prick! I just bought you a free holiday to New York!" She cursed, blushing softly.

"Only after you begged me to," Andrew pointed out.

"Shut up," Serena mumbled.

"Talking about my holiday to New York, what time are we leaving?" Andrew asked.

"Tonight, 7 o'clock, Heathrow Airport," Serena stated.

"Tonight? A little early don't you think."

"Hey, I'm paying remember. It's under my conditions," She smirked, "So get packing." With that she snapped her phone closed.

Serena hoped that things would go well, there was more riding on this trip to New York then Andrew knew – an element of danger that forced her to give up her paranormal career. Dragging her hand through her thick tresses, she made the goal to be as careful as possible, to stick to a schedule: find a place to stay, solve crime then come home.

Little did she know things weren't going to be that simple, the events to come would change her life – perhaps even destroy her.

- () -

A response would be good if you can :) Thank you