PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
As Lydia revived, her eyes flinched from the reflected light of his damn chandelier. She hadn’t envisaged ending up unconscious at the foot of the stairs. He was supposed to die and remain undiscovered until the big house was re-opened in the spring, when she’d be faraway, ensconced in her new identity.
A bloody knife told she’d hit home in the struggle. Clearing her head, she thought to escape but her limbs wouldn’t respond.
Her husband appeared, staggering and clutching his gory shirtfront. “Why?” he mouthed.
“Help me!” she pleaded, panicking. “Paralysed!”
He collapsed, lifeless beside her.
“No!” She screamed.
Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.