CHAPTER X

ABIGAIL KNOCKED on Jake's door.

"Come in," he said.

Abigail walked in. "Well, we did it."

Jake nodded at her. "You did it."

Abigail smiled. She hesitated. "Jake, I was thinking... Now that it's over, and we've found the murderer..." She looked into his eyes.

Instantly she felt wet. Jake walked towards her slowly.

Abigail felt her breath quicken. Would he make her leave? Or would he...

Their lips smashed together in a fiery passion. Abigail felt Jake's tongue intertwine with her own.

Her hands went to his neck, pulling him closer. Jake pulled away from her. He took off his shirt. His muscles rippled as he threw it aside. Abigail gasped. Jake had an incredible body. She could see his abs.

She could feel herself getting wetter by the second. Jake unbuttoned his pants. Abigail watched him. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. Jake unzipped his pants. Abigail's heart raced.

She felt like she was going to faint. Jake's cock sprang out. It was huge. Abigail licked her lips. She couldn't wait for him to touch her. She needed him inside her.

"I want you," she whispered.

Jake smiled. He walked up to her. He kissed her again. Abigail moaned into his mouth. Their tongues danced together. Jake reached down and undid her bra. Abigail helped him. He slid his fingers under the straps.

He pulled them off her shoulders. Abigail shrugged them off. Jake cupped her breasts. He kneaded them. Abigail sighed. Jake's hand traveled down her stomach. He grabbed her skirt and yanked it off.

Abigail gasped. She stepped out of her skirt. Jake threw it aside. He ran his hands up her thighs. He stopped when he got to her panties. He pulled them off. Abigail's pussy was already soaking wet. Jake stared at it.

Abigail's hands were on his chest. She wanted him inside her. She needed him to fill her up. Jake stood up. He lifted Abigail onto the bed. He lay down next to her. They kissed again. Abigail spread her legs.

She guided Jake's cock towards her pussy. Jake groaned as he entered her. Abigail gasped. She wrapped her arms around him. Jake thrust into her. Abigail cried out. Jake was so deep.

He was hitting places she never knew existed. Abigail wrapped her legs around him. Jake thrust harder and faster. Abigail cried out louder. Jake pounded into her. Abigail screamed.

Jake's balls slapped against her ass. Abigail came. Her whole body shook. Jake didn't stop. He kept pounding her. Abigail came again. Jake buried himself inside her. He held her close. Abigail clung to him.

Jake rolled over. He pinned Abigail underneath him. He slammed into her. Abigail moaned. She wrapped her legs around him. Jake thrust hard and fast. Abigail cried out. She came again. Jake's cock erupted inside her.

He filled her with cum. Abigail held him tight. Jake collapsed on top of her. He kissed her forehead. Abigail smiled.

# # #

The dorm room stood silent, a temporary haven from the tumultuous events that had unfolded during the investigation. Abigail, lost in thought, sat by the window, gazing out at the snow-covered landscape. The room held a deceptive tranquility, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her mind.

Jake entered, the door closing softly behind him. His expression was grave, eyes piercing with an intensity that hinted at a revelation he carried. Abigail turned to face him, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she sensed the weight of his gaze.

"Abigail, we need to talk," Jake began, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of unease.

Abigail nodded, inviting him to continue. Little did she know that the revelation he was about to share would shatter the fragile peace she had clung to.

Jake hesitated for a moment before speaking, choosing his words with care. "I've been digging deeper into the evidence, and I've uncovered something unsettling. It's about Ramona's ****, Abigail."

Abigail's brow furrowed as she leaned forward, a sense of foreboding settling over her. "What did you find?"

Jake took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "The evidence, Abigail—it wasn’t Nikolai. The police ran every thing they could think of, and… he’s innocent.”

Abigail shook her head. “How? That’s impossible.”

“We reviewed some security footage, gathered some eye witnesses… they were able to enhance the shot of Ramona being murdered.”

Abigail leaned forward. “And? Did they see who it was?”

Jake averted his gaze. “It was you. You were the one who killed Ramona."

The words hung in the air, a surreal echo that Abigail struggled to comprehend. A surge of denial surged within her, and she shook her head, unable to fathom what was happening.

"No, Jake, you must be mistaken. I couldn't have... I didn't..."

She rose to her feet, genuinely baffled by why he would say such a thing. “I was there! I was ice skating! I saw the killer cut her down!”

Jake shook his head. “Abigail… Elise was the one performing during the ****.”

Abigail sat down, unable to process this.

Jake's gaze remained steady, his voice cutting through her protests. "There’s more. I've looked into your past, your medical history. You have a condition, a form of insanity that manifests in bouts of ****. You've been unaware of it, and during these episodes, you become a different person."

The room seemed to tilt, the ground beneath Abigail's feet giving way to an abyss of disbelief.

She clutched the edge of the bed, struggling to reconcile the image of herself as a murderer with the person she believed herself to be.

"I don't understand," Abigail whispered, her voice trembling. "How could I not know? How could I...?"

Jake's expression softened with a mix of empathy and regret. "It's a complex condition, Abigail. Your mind protects itself, creating a veil of unawareness during these episodes. But the evidence is undeniable. We need to face this truth, together."

As the weight of the revelation settled over Abigail, the room closed in around her, the boundaries between reality and the haunting shadows of her mind blurring. The storm within had found its center, and the journey ahead promised to unravel the layers of darkness that lay hidden within the recesses of her fractured psyche.

Abigail's mind reeled, grappling with the staggering revelation Jake had just laid bare. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a confining space closing in on her. She rose unsteadily from the bed, pacing the room as if seeking an escape from the suffocating truth.

"I can't believe this," she muttered, her voice a fragile whisper. "How could I be capable of such... ****? I never wanted to hurt anyone."

Jake remained a pillar of solemnity, understanding the magnitude of the emotional storm Abigail was weathering. "Abigail, it's not your fault. Your condition, it's beyond your control."

Tears welled in Abigail's eyes as she grappled with the conflicting emotions. "I don't even remember it, Jake. How can I be held responsible for something I can't even recall doing? It feels like a nightmare."

Jake approached her cautiously, a mixture of sympathy and determination etched on his face. "We'll find a way through this, Abigail. We need to work together to understand your condition, uncover the triggers, and find a solution. You're not alone in this."

Abigail's breaths came in uneven gasps, the weight of the revelation pressing down on her chest. "What if I hurt someone else? What if I can't control it?"

Jake reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "We'll get you the help you need, Abigail. We won't let this consume you. I'll be here for you every step of the way."

A torrent of conflicting emotions swept through Abigail—fear, confusion, and a profound sense of loss. The identity she had constructed for herself was unraveling.

"I never wanted any of this," she admitted, her voice choked with emotion. "Ramona, the others... I hurt them without even knowing. How can I face myself, Jake?"

Jake knelt beside her, offering a comforting presence. "We'll find a way to make amends, Abigail. Facing the truth is the first step, and then we work towards healing."

As Abigail grappled with the shattered fragments of her reality, her gaze fell upon an unexpected sight in her hotel room—a gleaming katana, its blade catching the dim light. The weapon rested against the side of her closet, incongruous in this setting of vulnerability and revelation.

A chill ran down her spine as recognition dawned—the katana was hers.

She approached it with a mix of trepidation and disbelief. The weapon felt both foreign and intimately familiar in her hands.

As her fingers wrapped around the hilt, a surge of rage coursed through her, a tempest of emotions swirling within.

"Why do I have this?" Abigail seethed, her voice laced with frustration.

She struggled to reconcile the serene ice skater with the bearer of such a menacing weapon. The katana seemed to whisper dark secrets, triggering a latent fury that Abigail had never known existed within her.

Jake, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, approached cautiously. "Abigail, where did you get that? Is it the same one with the emblem?"

Abigail's eyes burned with an intensity that mirrored the swirling storm within. "It's mine, Jake. But I don't remember bringing it here, let alone why I would have such a thing."

The katana, a symbol of lethal precision, now embodied the dark undercurrents of Abigail's fractured mind. The realization that her own possession had been involved in the sinister acts sent shivers down her spine. It was a connection she couldn't ignore, a tangible link between her hidden rage and the **** that had unfolded.

"I can't trust myself," Abigail muttered, her hands trembling as she placed the katana back against the wall. "This weapon, my own weapon, is a part of the nightmare I can't escape."

Jake, his concern deepening, took a step closer. "Abigail, we need to understand the connection between your condition and these bouts of ****. The katana might be a key to unlocking the truth. But you're not alone in this—we'll figure it out together."

Abigail's anger flared, directed at the weapon, at herself, and at the enigma of her own mind. "How can I trust anything about myself? I've hurt people, Jake. I've become a danger to everyone around me."

Jake's gaze softened, empathy radiating from him. "We'll find the answers, Abigail. The katana, your condition, they're pieces of a puzzle we're still assembling. But you're not defined by these moments. We'll face them, confront them, and find a way to move forward."

As Abigail grappled with the complex interplay of her own identity and the mysteries that encircled her, the katana stood as a silent witness to the storm within.

The room, once a sanctuary, crackled with tension as Abigail's turmoil erupted into a storm of emotions. Her eyes, once filled with confusion and vulnerability, now blazed with an accusatory fire.

She turned on Jake, the weight of her own unraveling reality twisting into a focal point for her anger.

"This is your fault," Abigail hissed, her voice laced with bitterness. "You dug into my past, you uncovered things I didn't even know about myself. I trusted you, and now everything is falling apart!"

Jake's expression tightened, absorbing the blame that Abigail hurled at him. He took a step back, choosing his words carefully.

"Abigail, I understand this is difficult, but I'm trying to help you."

Abigail's rage intensified, her hands clenching into fists. "Help? This isn't help! You've taken everything from me—my innocence, my sense of self. You've exposed a monster within me, and I can't bear it."

The room seemed to close in around them, the walls echoing with the discord of their confrontation. Abigail's breathing quickened, the torrent of emotions threatening to drown her. She paced the room, the weight of the katana and the revelations pressing down on her shoulders.

"You wanted the truth, Abigail," Jake said, his voice calm but determined. "It's painful, but we can work through this together. Blaming me won't change what's happening, and it won't erase the reality we're facing."

Abigail rounded on him, her eyes ablaze with resentment. "You think you can fix me? You can't fix this, Jake. I trusted you, and now you've brought this darkness to the surface."

Jake sighed, a heavy acknowledgment of the fractured trust between them. "I didn't bring the darkness, Abigail. I only uncovered what was already there. We can find a way to navigate this together, but you have to face the truth."

The air hung heavy with the remnants of their argument, a discordant melody that echoed the shattered trust between investigator and investigated. Abigail, consumed by a whirlwind of emotions, struggled to reconcile the conflicting forces within her—the serene skater and the latent fury that now threatened to consume her.

The room became charged with an eerie stillness as Abigail's rage reached a boiling point. The katana, once a silent observer of the unfolding drama, now seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, a manifestation of the darkness that gripped Abigail's fractured psyche. She seized the weapon, the cold steel biting into her trembling hands.

Jake, sensing the escalating tension, took a cautious step back, his eyes locked onto Abigail's.

"Abigail, put it down."

But Abigail remained deaf to reason. The blade gleamed menacingly as she advanced, her movements erratic and fueled by a **** she couldn't comprehend. The room seemed to warp around her, the walls closing in on the battlefield of conflicting emotions.

"You did this to me," Abigail spat, her voice a venomous snarl. "You brought this darkness into my life, and now I have to rid myself of it."

Jake's instincts kicked in, his eyes scanning the room for an escape route. He attempted to reason with Abigail once more, his voice calm but urgent.

"Abigail, this isn't the solution. We can find a way to understand and manage this, but we have to face it together."

The katana sliced through the air, its deadly arc aimed at Jake. He dodged with a nimble grace born of survival instinct, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike. The dance between predator and prey unfolded in the cramped quarters of the hotel room, the once-tranquil space now a battleground.

Abigail pressed on, her movements fueled by a frenzied determination.

"You won't take everything from me!" she screamed, the words a **** proclamation as she continued her onslaught.

Jake, now **** into a defensive posture, attempted to reason with Abigail even as he evaded each swing of the katana.

"Abigail, you're not in control right now. This isn't you. We can find a way to get through this, but **** won't solve anything."

The room echoed with the clash of metal against metal as Abigail relentlessly pursued her perceived enemy. The lines between reality and the nightmare of her own creation blurred, the katana becoming an extension of her inner turmoil.

With each swing, Jake skillfully evaded Abigail's frenzied attacks, his movements a dance of survival. His eyes, usually steady and determined, now reflected a mix of concern and determination. He continued to back away, trying to maintain a safe distance, all the while attempting to reason with the woman he had been working alongside, and whose mind had become a battleground between sanity and darkness.

"Abigail, listen to me," Jake urged, his voice firm. "This isn't the way. We can find a solution, but not like this. Put the sword down, and let's talk about what's happening."

But Abigail, consumed by the storm within, remained unyielding. The once-elegant skater had transformed into a **** of unpredictable ****. Her attacks, fueled by a rage she couldn't comprehend, seemed relentless.

In a moment of respite between strikes, Jake seized the opportunity to speak again.

"You don't want to do this, Abigail. I know this isn't you. We can figure this out together. I won't let you succumb to this darkness."

As Abigail prepared for another strike, Jake's instincts kicked in. He used the limited space to his advantage, ducking and sidestepping with a calculated grace. The blade whistled through the air, narrowly missing him. He managed to disarm her temporarily, the katana clattering to the floor.

"Abigail, please," Jake implored, his gaze locked onto hers.

Fury blazed in Abigail's eyes as she lunged for the fallen katana. The struggle continued, an unsettling symphony of clashing emotions and steel. Jake, now in a defensive stance, maintained a careful distance, gauging the rhythm of Abigail's attacks.

In a **** attempt to prevent further ****, Jake reached the fallen katana just before Abigail could reclaim it. He held the weapon, the cold steel a stark reminder of the perilous situation that had unfolded within the confines of the hotel room. His eyes met Abigail's, a plea for reason etched in his gaze.

"Abigail, I don't want to hurt you," Jake implored, the weight of the katana heavy in his hands.

He took a step back, hoping that the gravity of the situation would penetrate the storm of Abigail's fury.

But Abigail, consumed by a tempest of emotions and trapped within the shadows of her own mind, pressed on. She advanced with a renewed determination, driven by forces beyond her control.

In a moment of panic and self-defense, Jake, gripped by the instinct to protect himself, swung the katana in a **** attempt to ward off the impending threat.

The room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the echo of the blade slicing through the air.

Abigail, frozen in the momentum of her attack, crumpled to the floor. The katana, now a harbinger of unintended tragedy, clattered beside her motionless form.

Jake stared in horror at the aftermath of the impulsive act, the reality of what had just transpired settling in like an unshakable weight. The room, once a battleground, now bore witness to a devastating consequence—a consequence neither of them had anticipated.

"No," Jake whispered, the word catching in his throat as he rushed to Abigail's side.

He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached out to check for signs of life.

The once vibrant skater lay still, her eyes vacant, and the truth hung in the air—a truth that left Jake grappling with the unintended consequences of a moment that had spiraled out of control.

The hotel room, once filled with the cacophony of their conflict, now harbored an unsettling stillness.

The katana, now a symbol of both their struggles, lay forgotten in the wake of a tragedy that had altered the course of their intertwined destinies.