The Village

A relaxed atmosphere spread throughout the Crown Inn

The remnants of the early evening crowd being joined by dinners from the Public House restaurant who began to filter in amongst the usual suspects of Friday night regulars.

Outside the long summer nights had long since passed and twilight cast through the windows so that brightly lit internal lights cast elongated shadows against the polished wood of the lounge bar.

Jake Parkinson stood at the bar with his usual ease, leaning against the long stretch of polished oak with a pint of lager in hand. Waiting for friends he engaged in light banter with Mark Pulley, the venues landlord, as they discussed their mutual thoughts on the country's recently announced immigrations policy, his voice was mixture of mocking and disdain at the flaws they both believed were contained with the laws, his concern for their perception and of the impacts of there coming into effect. A long standing mutual camaraderie played out as Mark continued their chat whilst he served regulars alongside of his new barmaid Sammi, a strikingly beautiful tall slim dark haired girl, who Jake struggled to keep his eyes off of for long.

"You still trying to convince the regulars that your beer is worth the price of tax rises, are you?" Jake teased his long time friend as their conversation shifted on to a new matter.

Even as he did so he took a long satisfying sip of his drink. his eyes casting across froth sat on the drinks surface. Mark simply chuckled, wiping down the surface of the bar with a well worn cloth.

"I'm just struggling," Mark replied, his sardonic grin broadening.

The door into the room swung open, a gust of cool evening air preceded the young couple who walked in. They entered on light pleasant laughter from the dark haired pretty blonde who's arm tucked through her partners as they strolled immediately to the opposite end of the bar from Jake as Sammi served them. Stood idly at the bar, the young woman drew Jake's attention immediately. Her hair framed her face either side of her face, under a fringe sat a dark rimmed pair of glasses. The lights in the room caught her features, accentuating her natural beauty, behind lightly made up skin.

"Who's that?" Jake asked discreetly, nodding toward the girl as the couple settled at a nearby table with one pint of Cider and Amaretto and Diet Coke. Mark glanced over at them himself, a flicker of recognition playing across his face.

"Not sure about him.... But she's the new teaching assistant at the St Luke's primary... They moved to the village over the Summer, I think." He shrugged, the hint of incredulity in his tone. "Been in here a couple of times ...usually on a Friday and that my friend is about as much as I know."

Jake squinted, in desperate need of the glasses he was too proud to wear in public, feeling something stir in the back of his mind. A nagging familiarity that he couldn't quite place.

"I know her from somewhere ...and I don't think it's from seeing her around here," he mused, his gaze lingering as the couple chatted away, with her laughter occasionally dancing through the air.

Minutes slipped by as Jake continued to scrutinise the girl without being too obvious. Suddenly, as he was considering heading over on a fabricated reason to speak to the couple a jolt of realisation sparked in his mind, slipping his hand into his pocket he reached for his phone. Opening an App as he started scrolling with increasing enthusiasm until he found what he was looking for, the pictures that confirmed he did know the dark haired blonde, at least visually.

"Small world," he offered sliding his phone across the bar as he leaned closer to Mark, who raised an eyebrow, peering at the screen.

The image displayed a stunningly similar girl posing on an OnlyFans page, as Mark slid his finger across the screen it was soon adorned with various images of the young girl posing in an array of bold outfits ranging from alluring lingerie to provocative skin-tight leather. Mark's grin growing, especially on some of the more revealing photographs. Each one presenting a different persona from the meek girl sat to his right, her eyes in the photos narrowed with a confidence and an allure.

"That's definitely her," Mark confirmed, his voice lowered, laced with disbelief.

Jake felt a mischief spark in his mind. "If it is ....it's a bit sickening that she's now looking after local children,"

He made his remarks knowing how he would trigger the Landlords temperament. Although his words were stated on a genuine concern that cut through their initial surprise at the revelation.

Mark leaned across the bar, a sneer creeping onto his lips. "This needs to be addressed."

As he poured a fresh pint with a deliberate slowness. The golden liquid filled the glass, as they both dwelt on the topic of conversation, they were now entwined in. Jake took a sip of the fresh drink set before him, the fizz biting into his tongue, but it did little to quell the discomfort brewing within him.

"What can we do about it " he asked, looking at Mark, whose eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Whilst Mark mulled it over, he cast a cautious glance toward the couple as their laughter broke once more, they were blissfully unaware of the attention being paid them.

"She still active?" Mark enquired, Jake checked the profile realising he only had access as he had once subscribed to her personal page and saved her within his favourites, something he did not let on to his colleague. Who to be fair hadn't even questioned why Jake would recognise her from such a website.

"Doesn't look like it," he eventually confirmed. "No updates in the last 2 years."

"We can't just sit on this though Jake.... She's working with kids for Christ's sake... what kind of message do those images send?"

"The village gossip will be lively." Jake cut in, anticipating the thrumming air and sharp tongues of the likes of Sadie Clutterbuck who worked in the local convenience store for no other reason it seemed than to keep abreast of local controversy. " So, what to do about it?"

"I think I know a solution," Mark proposed but failed to elaborate, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as he leant towards Jake.

They exchanged glances, as they considered the implications of what they discussed. Jake grinned watching the animated young woman in the background, carefree yet oblivious to the plan that began to form in his mind.

**********

Lauren Miller moved through her house tidying effortlessly. The new home shared with her husband of only nine months, Jordan. She entered into the hallway breathing in the scent of fresh paint, following the morning spent decorating the hallway together.

The house they could now say was officially renovated from the tired state in which they had purchased the semi-detached three storey property five weeks earlier. Their own stamp now infusing every corner within the house that sat at the end of a terrace of five properties.

With music blaring in the background Lauren lost herself in the rhythm as she finished tidying, half her mind on preparing an evening meal for when Jordan returned home from an afternoon watching Rugby with his friends in the City.

As she ran the vacuum cleaner along the hallway floor a fresh song started on her upbeat playlist. Navigating the hallway, Lauren caught sight of a white envelope protruding from the letterbox. She paused a little perplexed, the post had arrived earlier that morning, but this letter had somehow slipped through unnoticed.

With an absent minded flick of her wrist, she shut off the vacuum and retrieved the envelope in the same motion. As she opened it, she unfurled the single sheet of paper. Her eyes casting over the five lines of text printed on the page. Each black word etched immediately in to her mind. Her heart racing as she re-read the note again to herself, a chill creeping down her spine:

' We know who you are.

We know about your disgusting past

This village does not need your kind teaching our children.

If you want secrets to kept TOXICEYES2k2, you will comply

Signed on behalf of the Village.'

"Alexa stop," she called out, as the dance music stopped immediately. The weight of the note strangled the air in her lungs, forcing her to sit on the bottom step of the staircase. She reread the words over and over, each pass revealing that the shattering reality of her past, by the use of the username in bold capitals alone had caught up with her. A time in her life that she had done everything she could to carefully bury now erupted without warning.

She knew immediately what the note referred to. She had only set up the online account during a tumultuous time in her life, long before she had met Jordan, before she had fallen in love and her life had turned around so dramatically. On the ill advice of a friend, she had set up the OnlyFans page. Her intent had been nothing more than brief connections, playful exchanges, and a means to assert a false identity at a time when she lost everything. Once Jordan had entered her life, she had closed the chapter completely, deleting the account from public display appreciating the damage such a digital existence could cause. She had kept the account dormant not least as private subscriptions continued to offer a flow of revenue.

Somehow now, someone had recognised her, exposing her buried secrets even within the idyllic surroundings of the small village where she thought she could start anew. Nausea surged in her stomach, a painful prelude to the inevitable judgment that seemingly awaited her. A clock in the kitchen echoed cruelly in her ears scarring itself into her mind. Each tick of the clock echoed ominously, marking the onset of dread coiling within her.

She focused on the penultimate line of four within the text, the line that stipulated very little other than a vague suggestion that there was a means by which she could earn her anonymity.

The following days unfolded like a nightmare. Over the course of the next week, Lauren received nearly a dozen further letters and notes. Each note received was more chilling than the last, further notes slipped through the door, two notes found under the wiper blade of her car whilst at the grocery store and in the car park at the local community centre after a Yoga Class.

The short lines of text of each note received lanced her like a knife, each note unravelling her carefully woven new existence within the quaint village location that she had fallen in love with.

The next note arrived unexpectedly on a Monday, a familiar plain envelope handed to her by the School Secretary, Annie Lansdown as she arrived for work. The typeface instantly recognisable only this time with the address of St Luke's Primary School sat under her name. Her heart sank as she ripped it open, the words inscribed chilling her to the bone:

'TOXICEYES2k2

You will receive full instructions tomorrow.

Prepared to work late.

Discretion will be assured by compliance.

Prepare to receive your punishment and repent.

See you soon.'

Behind her glasses tears welled in her eyes, blurring the threatening ink on the page. An overwhelming sense of despair pulled her deeper into the abyss of her thoughts.

How was she ever supposed to tell Jordan about this? The man who loved her for the woman she was and whom she aspired to be, how could she confess that these harassments were a consequence of a past she regretted and had fought so hard to escape?

As the day dragged on, Lauren began to feel the walls close in around her, every shadow a reminder that her secrets were snaring her again. Each moment was agonising, she needed to consider her next moves wisely. She also knew she had to face whoever threatened her.

If there was a way out without exposing herself, she had to explore every avenue. If only for the sake of her marriage. The menace of her situation loomed over her like an impending storm. The weight of her past threatening to drown the dreams of her future. Folding the letter away Lauren took a deep breath, steeling herself for the unimaginable confrontation that was to come.

She desperately knew she had to find a way, she had to muster strength, if only to protect the life her and Jordan had just begun to build.

**********

Tuesday arrived following a long night of no sleep, the weather was bright, yet her mood was heavy with the anxiety and anticipation. She had barely slept for days, making mistakes at work and at home that were born of her debilitating insomnia,

As she stood before a mirror in the recently renovated hallway Lauren Miller cast her eyes over the navy floral blouse and fitted grey trousers she had picked from her wardrobe, choosing to couple the ensemble with a pair of little black ankle boots.

She made best efforts to handle the day as she attempted to be distracted by the normality. Only as she wished her colleagues fair well and settled into the quiet, empty classroom did nervous energy truly catch up with her as she pretended to focus on the following days lesson plans.

Her mind lingered on the ominous content of the notes received. Looking up at the classroom clock the minute hand had barely shifted, the clocks hand a timer that excruciatingly slowly counted down to cruel fate.

With an hour left until the designated time of her "punishment," Lauren found herself increasingly glancing anxiously at both the clock and the late September twilight beyond the windows. Why had she agreed to stay late she questioned over and over, her fears gnawed at her stomach as she tried and failed not to imagine the confrontation ahead of her.

The door to the classroom creaked open, causing her to jump in her seat. Headmaster Malcolm Fisher stood at the entrance, his expression apologetic.

"Sorry... didn't mean to startle you, Lauren," he said, stepping in through the door slightly.

Lauren immediately felt a sudden wave of suspicion. Surely her new employer could not be the one behind the letters. He was a family man, who spoke with a soft authority and had been nothing but caring since she had started her job four weeks previous. The very thought sent chills down her spine.

As Malcolm engaged in casual conversation about her transition into her role, her concerns eased. He stepped back towards the door with words of caution, "I'm headed home... Don't work too late... Oh, and you know to exit via the back door... just pull it to and it'll set the alarm automatically."

With a nod and sincere smile, he stepped away, only to return moments later holding a small package.

"Sorry.... This was left for you at reception," he offers, handing it to her with a raised brow. Lauren glanced at the package, sensing a foreboding weight, whatever the contents of the package its very existence felt like doom wrapped in brown paper.

Shortly after as Malcolm's car rumbled away from the school, silence enveloped the classroom once more amplifying her nerves. Hesitantly, she peeled back the brown paper packaging, her breath hitching as she revealed a disturbing assortment of clothing inside. A little black cardigan, a tight white blouse, and an outrageously short pleated charcoal grey skirt sat on the desk alongside of a pair of long opaque white stockings adorned with bows at their elasticated tops. Two lengths of white ribbon sprawled atop the ensemble like dark whispers, the outfit was accompanied by a further note that sent ice through her veins.

'Tie your hair in pigtails.

Dress in the outfit.

Prepare to repent.'

Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she eventually slipped willingly into the demeaning schoolgirl style outfit. The whole getup felt like a costume designed for a twisted scenario, each piece mocking her present and her past. She slipped on her own black heeled boots, they felt familiar yet foreign amongst the tight fitting hideously revealing outfit as the prospect of facing her imminent recrimination becoming almost unbearable.

Whispers of self loathing echoed in her mind as she struggled to keep her composure.

At exactly Seven pm, the silence around her shattered. A resounding fist pounded vigorously on the rear door of the school, sending shockwaves through her already frayed nerves. Her heart racing, she approached and opened the door, only to find nothing but the dark emptiness of the school playground staring back at her. As she started to doubt her own sanity, she heard footsteps receding in the shadows, compelling her to call out,

"Who's there?"

A morbid mix of fear and curiosity drove her inexplicably to follow the sound of the heavy footsteps. Stepping out into the gloom, she ventured cautiously through the dimly lit playground once the light of the doorway was closed as it swung back on its hinges. Her pulse a rapid crescendo in her ears as her heartbeat against her rib cage. Turning the corner of the building she spotted double doors flung open, beckoning her toward the unknown terror of the scenario she faced.

She stood between the open doors, a light flickered faintly, revealing the concrete steps that led through damp walls into a basement beneath the main school hall. Her panic rising as she spotted that each wall was daubed with thick chalk letters, spelling out the words, Repent and Punishment.

She wanted to turn and run, very sinew in her body pleaded with her not to step forward. After a moments further hesitation she tentatively placed a foot on the first step. Each step down the stairs sent shivers coursing through her body, the air grew colder, thick with damp and dread. Stepping off the last step an inky darkness enveloped her, she reached out tentatively, her eyes searching the gloom for any signs of life as her hands fumbled along the wall to her right blindly searching for a light switch.

A hand swept around her waist, yanking her up against an obvious male frame. Lauren's panic surged as another gloved hand clutching a damp rag clamped over her jaw, stifling the scream that clawed its way up her throat.

Engulfed in darkness, the strong scent of chemicals filling her lungs, she fought viciously but to no avail. Struggling against the merciless grip that held her, she felt herself being pulled further into darkness and the abyss in her mind raced as it raced with desperate thoughts.

Her mind fast began to blur as her consciousness faded. Thoughts terrorised her as to who this was this, what did he plan to do with her? What fate was her past about to condemn her to?

As her muffled protested faded and drowned in the enveloping darkness, she realized she was not just confronting the demons of her past, but also the twisted reality her life had suddenly become.

**********

Lauren sat stiffly on a wooden chair, her bleary eyes slowly fixing through her glasses on the old-fashioned school desk sat in front of her.

The atmosphere in the dim basement felt thick with tension, an unsettling mix of dread and confusion swirling around her. She tried to steady her breathing, realising that a gag sat tied through her mouth across the back of her neck. A gag that accompanied the tick course rope that held her stocking clad legs to the front legs of the chair, her waist bound by rope that wrapped around her and the back of her chair. Her arms held behind the back of the chair were tightly secured by thick rope that sat wrapped around her wrists.

Behind her as she pulled at her restraint, someone moved deliberately quietly, she sensed his presence heavy and foreboding. As her ears attuned over her own panicked breaths, she could hear him pacing, the soft sound of his footsteps tapping against the concrete floor.

His voice once he spoke came from the shadows and was dripping with contempt.

"You think you can just erase the past?" he sneered, as he started to circle her like a predator. "Those slutty pictures... They scream of your weakness... your desperation, and the fact you're nothing but a wanton little whore."