As the clock struck 7 p.m. on Monday, November 1st, an English winter evening descended over a quiet, frost-covered corner of London. The cityscape held onto a vintage charm, with the bare, leafless branches and gray surroundings evoking a monochrome atmosphere reminiscent of a ’40s film.
Matt and Deanne Wallace, a couple who had poured their hearts into creating a cozy haven, sat down to a routine dinner. The room was bathed in the soft glow of wall lamps and candlelight, and as they enjoyed the remnants of a fine Bordeaux, the couple bantered about the quirks of British and American English—a topic that never failed to amuse them. The humor and lightness between them only highlighted their deep affection and comfort in each other’s company, creating a picture of calm domestic bliss.
Their German Shepherd mix, Smarts, lay contentedly by the fireplace, warming himself in the gentle heat. As Matt prepared to take Smarts out for his evening walk, Deanne decided to join them. Arm in arm, they strolled out into the chilly night, the quiet crunch of frost underfoot the only sound in the stillness. When they reached the woods, they let Smarts roam off-leash, watching as he darted among the trees, exploring with boundless energy.
With Guy Fawkes Night only days away, the couple discussed the history of the famous English celebration as they strolled. Matt recounted the story of Guy Fawkes, whose failed plot to blow up the Parliament had led to the tradition of bonfires and fireworks. For Deanne, it was a fascinating glimpse into English history, and as Matt recited the famous rhyme—“Remember, remember, the fifth of November…”—the two shared a smile, eager to witness the festivities soon.
As November 5th approached, they planned a special night in the city. Everything seemed perfect. But as Deanne took Smarts out for a quick walk on the night of the bonfire, the evening took a darker turn. Amid the crackling of fireworks and the distant glow of the bonfire, Smarts barked in a tone Deanne had never heard before—a sound of alarm and distress. When he didn’t return, her heart pounded with a sense of foreboding as she ventured into the shadowed woods alone, searching for her beloved dog.
In the faint light of a firework flash, Deanne’s worst fears were realized when she spotted Smarts lying on the ground, hurt and unresponsive. She rushed to him, overcome with worry, but the woods around her seemed to close in, a place that had once been familiar now brimming with an eerie, unsettling silence. The peaceful rhythm of her life felt suddenly shattered, the comforting world she had known thrown into chaos with a single, tragic event in the darkened forest.
Deanne’s heart raced as she knelt beside Smarts’ lifeless body, her mind refusing to accept what she was seeing. Blood soaked the dog’s fur, and the twisted angle of his legs confirmed that he was gone. She trembled, unable to comprehend the sudden, brutal reality of it. Her world had just shattered. As she wept, clutching Smarts’ head against her lap, the sound of footsteps behind her grew louder. She froze.
A cold, guttural voice pierced the night air. “I’ve been waiting for you,” the man said, his words laced with venom. “You dirty bitch. You dirty fucking bitch.”
Before she could react, a blow landed hard on her neck, followed swiftly by another strike to her head. Deanne’s body swayed as her vision blurred, but in that split second, she saw the man—his face twisted with rage—and then everything went black.
What is this mysterious man planning to do with Deanne? Read “Remember, Remember” to know more, available on Amazon for purchase: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D9TWH7H3.