Excellent Mary Beth found her Prince Charming or did she? Contest Entry and Winners : Was it Heaven or Hell? by Begin Again This Sentence Starts The Story contest entry

Something was wrong.  I wasn't sure what it was, but I sure as hell wanted to find out. The girls and I are a staple at Kelly's Nightclub on Friday nights. The liquor flows, the women get wild, and everybody has a good time. It's a small town and we're just friends blowing off steam after working all week. Tonight, a stranger sat at the end of the bar, quietly making love to his bottle of beer. He wasn't any ordinary stranger, not this one. He was drop dead gorgeous and put every other guy in the house to shame. That was the problem!  Why would this good-looking hunk of a man be sitting all alone, ignoring some hot chicks?  We'd spent the last ten minutes betting on whether he was gay, blind or a figment of our wild imaginations. As the girls and I huddled in our booth, slamming tequila shots, none of us could tear our eyes off him. I couldn't decide if I missed my mouth with the shot glass or if drool was running down my face. My heart was palpitating so hard, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.  I never believed in love at first sight, but this hunk of a man had changed my viewpoint just by the way his fingers strummed the beer bottle. Running my tongue slowly across my lips, I wagered I was going to make him mine or die trying. Our raucous laughter carried across the bar and he raised his head, turning in our direction, and smiled. His smile could have melted every stick of butter in the house. The band started playing one of those songs where you just have to get up and move. I slid out of the booth and walked out on the dance floor. I was glad I'd decided to wear my favorite pair of jeans. They fit like a glove to my voluptuous curves. I started swaying my hips to the music, knowing full well every living, breathing male had his eyes glued right where I wanted them. I prayed the stranger's eyes would like what they saw. As the song ended, the usual crowd offered their cat whistles, their blatantly crude remarks, and of course, their appreciation of a woman's sexuality. I had no desire for any of it. There was only one man in this bar  I wanted to attract. I'd offered the bait. Now I waited to see if he was interested. I didn't have to wait long. Standing at the edge of the dance floor was my heart's desire. He even looked better up close, if that was possible. Demanding the best performance of my life, I flashed a friendly smile in his direction before casually strolling toward the girls and our booth. Of course, they were climbing over top of each other trying to get a better look at the man I was about to snare. The band started playing a slow dance just as I was about to slide back into the booth. The girls were giggling and jabbering like a brood of hens. His cologne drifted passed my nose, driving my senses wild, and giving me fair warning he was there. I appeared to be as cool as a cucumber, but my heart knew better. It was pounding so hard I almost couldn't breathe. "Mind if I ask you to dance?" I tilted my eyes upward and found myself drowning in the brightest pair of Paul Newman eyes I had ever seen. Pools of blue were staring back at me, twinkling with a touch of amusement. Without waiting for an answer, he took my hand and effortlessly guided me onto the dance floor. Wrapping his arm around my waist, we began to move with the music. I was positive they were playing the greatest love song ever written. "Well, pretty lady, you got a name?" Never in my lifetime had I met a man who looked, talked, and breathed pure, unadulterated sex appeal. I could see he found amusement in my temporary loss of words. "You can talk, right?" "Of course! My name's Mary Beth." I flashed him the best smile I could conjure up at that moment. My imagination was running wild and I was attempting to rein it in a bit. I didn't want him to think I was some country bumpkin. "Pleasure to meet you, Mary Beth. Folks call me Mason." The remainder of the evening was something out of a fairytale. Mason played me like a fine fiddle. His every word, every move, was meant directly for my pleasure. As the night went on, our bodies molded closer and closer. The heat from his body was driving my desire off the charts. I never wanted the night to end. When the bartender called last call, I excused myself and headed to the powder room. I knew the girls would be there, waiting to gossip about all the details. I hadn't even closed the door behind me when Betty, my best friend, started in on me. "Mary Beth, what's got into you? I know you're always acting crazy, but you haven't left this guy's side tonight." She was leaning real close to my face, like my mother does when she's trying to get a point across. Betty wasn't my mother and I didn't like it. "Back off, Betty. I can take care of myself." My voice sounded a tad snappish. Not to be outdone, Betty sneered at me with that know-it-all look of hers. "Really! That's what you said when Billy had you cornered in the backroom of the gas station." She arched her eyebrows as if she really had one on me. "Oh, my gosh, we were sixteen, Betty. I'm over legal age and I can do whatever with whomever I want." "You're taking him home with you, aren't you? Mary Beth, please tell me you aren't. You know nothing about this guy, other than what your hormones are telling you." I carefully applied a new layer of blazing red lipstick to my lips before responding to Betty's trite remark. "Listen, I'm tired of sleeping every night alone in that big old four poster bed. I don't see any harm in finding a little enjoyment in life. If he asks me, I'm agreeing. His place or mine." I popped a mint into my mouth and stared at my best friend. "He's been a perfect gentleman all night. It'll be fine." Spinning around toward the door, I tossed one last remark in Betty's direction. "You'll be the first to hear all the delicious details in the morning." On that note, I left in search of the man of my dreams. I was sure Heaven awaited! Mason was sitting at the bar when I came out of the powder room. He stood as I approached, smiling that wonderful smile of his. "I could use a little coffee. Maybe we could find a nice quiet place in town." "Everybody closes up shop early in this hick town. But I'd be happy to brew a pot if you'd like to come to my place." I waited, unable to breathe, wondering if this was my chance to be a fairy princess. Mason certainly met my requirements for Prince Charming. "If you're sure it wouldn't be a bother. I'd love to sit and talk with you. Find out more about your life here in this small town." Mason leaned closer to me and whispered, "I'd like to have you to myself for awhile." I almost swooned on the spot. I couldn't imagine anything better than being alone with him. We spent the next hour or so drinking coffee, talking about my job, growing up in a small town and about my dreams to some day escape to the big city life. Every time I tried to turn the conversation to Mason's life, he managed quite effectively to distract me. Finally, with the lights turned down low, our conversation stopped and our body language began talking loud and clear. Each passionate kiss, every body movement, kindled the fire of desire building inside of us. As his fingers unbuttoned my blouse, I knew there would be no turning back. He didn't even have to ask, I was his. Rising from the sofa, I took his hand in mine, hoping my eyes would do the speaking for me. He got up, wrapping me in his arms. His pressed his lips against my throat, slowly kissing me, moving down my chest. I'd never felt this passion with any other man. I wanted, no needed, to give myself to him. I didn't want him to stop his delicious kisses, but I didn't want the confines of our clothing either. I wanted to feel the heat of his body against my skin. I wanted us to be as one. As we entered my bedroom, I could hear the telephone ringing across the room. Remembering Betty's earlier disapproval, a sigh escaped my lips. Mason's lips stopped kissing my neck and he looked at me, his eyes questioning the sigh. "You okay with this?" I was overcome again by his chivalry. Any man I knew wouldn't have asked twice. "Oh, yeah!" I sounded like a breathless Marilyn Monroe. I barely recognized my own voice. If I had been honest with myself, I really didn't recognize any of me. I was the stubborn, mule-headed girl that never let any of the guys get passed first base. Sure, I didn't find any harm in flirting with the guys at the bar, but I had never brought one of them home with me. This was a definite first. I walked to the bed and pulled the quilt back. I was pleased I had always treated myself with satin sheets, red satin sheets. Maybe I had been planning for this very night all my life. I was glad I was ready. "Mary Beth, do you mind if I use your bathroom. Guess all the beer and coffee is catching up with me." He actually looked embarrassed to ask. "Of course, it's the first door on the left down the hall." I watched him walk out the bedroom door; his backside was as sexy as his front. I lit the candles on the nightstand and began undressing.   As I finished unbuttoning my blouse, the soft, warm summer breeze drifted in through the open window. I shivered. The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. An icy chill ran its fingers down my spine. My body was cold even though it was a hot summer night.  I couldn’t believe I was getting nervous. After all, I wasn't a school girl anymore. The telephone rang. The sound irritated me. It was probably Betty and she'd pay for it tomorrow. Wasn't my fault she went home alone, was it? The telephone rang again. Grabbing the receiver, I growled at the caller. "What?" "Mary Beth, get out of there right now." Betty's voice was hysterical. She was carrying the "mother attitude" too far this time. My anger boiled over. My voice hissed at her, "Get over it, Betty. Goodnight." About to slam the receiver down, I heard another voice, a male voice. "Mary Beth, this is Dave." Dave was the Sheriff, Betty's cousin. I immediately sensed concern in his voice. "Get out of the house now. I have a squad car on the way." "What's going on?" If this was a joke, I wasn't amused. "Mason is a killer." I gasped as the telephone went dead. Mason's fingers had disconnected the call. My mind screamed this must be a mistake, but the once dreamy pools of blue were now cold as steel. I stepped backwards, edging toward the doorway. Those hands only moments ago were making my body feel alive, now grabbed me, gripping my arm like a vice. Pain shot up my arm and a whimper escaped my mouth. "Mason, what's happening?" I tried to tell myself this was a nightmare and I would wake up any moment. Or maybe somebody's idea of a sick joke. My friends loved pranks. Maybe Mason was in on the joke. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?" I knew I was stammering. I couldn't help myself. Fear was rearing its ugly head. "Your friend just told you, didn't she?" A quick bulletin flashed through my mind. He didn't know the police were on their way. He thought I was talking to Betty. I needed to stall for time. "A killer? She was joking. Why would you want to kill me?" My throat ached and I struggled to get the words out. I needed to keep him talking. I didn't want to die. A hysterical laugh rumbled from his throat. I couldn't believe this was even the same man I'd been flirting with all night. This man looked like the devil possessed him. He reached out his other hand and ran his fingers across my cheek. I flinched at his touch. "You didn't mind my fingers on you a while ago, did ya? You're nothing but a cheap whore. Flashing yourself around, teasing the guys, taking them for whatever you can. I've seen your kind in every town." My eyes filled with tears. I'd been so stupid. I had believed every touch, every word he'd uttered tonight. I was sure he was my Prince Charming. Instead, he was a killer planning to end my life. "Please, I didn't mean anything by it. We were just having fun." That hysterical laugh of his rippled across the room again. I shook violently, pulling my arm, trying to loosen his grip. He laughed again. He let loose of my arm and I stumbled backwards, hitting the floor. I scrambled to get my feet under me as I tried to escape. I reached the living room when his hands grabbed me, lifting my feet off the floor. His fingers clamped around my neck, pressing harder and harder. The room began to spin. My mind was screaming. I couldn't breathe. My eyes lost focus and everything went black. My next conscious moment was smelling salts rudely assaulting my nose. My hand flapped in the air, trying to push it away. My throat ached. Slowly, I opened my eyes. "Oh my God." Pain shot through my body as I struggled to sit upright. My front room was a shambles. Glass from a broken lamp was scattered across the rug. Its shade was peeking out from under an overturned chair. My eyes focused on the white sheet covering what I assumed was Mason's body. I could see dark red bloodstains. My living room looked like a convention for police officers. A sigh escaped my lips. I could safely assume I wasn't dead. "Mary Beth, thank God, you're alive." My eyes focused on the motherly voice as it entered my living room. I'd never been happier to see Betty in my entire life. I knew later I'd hear the "I told you so" lecture, but for now, concern and relief were written all over her face. Stepping over the broken glass, she knelt down beside me, squeezing my hand. "They wouldn't let me in any earlier, but Dave was tired of listening to my griping so he finally said I could see you. Are you okay?" Before I could answer, an EMT wheeled in a gurney and they lifted me onto it. I managed a slight smile as they headed toward the ambulance. Before the door closed, Betty climbed in, too. "Don't be giving me any of your dirty looks, Stanley. I'm going to the hospital with Mary Beth in this ambulance. Do you understand?" Stanley simply shook his head and signaled the driver to leave. On the ride to the hospital, Betty told me the whole story. She had stopped at the Police Station to see Dave, concerned I had taken a stranger home with me. Dave was in the process of telling her I was a grown woman and Betty should stop playing mother hen when he received a fax. Peering over his shoulder, Betty recognized the picture and screamed. She was staring at Mason's face. It was a bulletin about a serial killer wanted for six murders. He'd last been seen in Marion County, about 50 miles from our town. His last victim had lived long enough to describe him to a sketch artist. After the frantic phone call, every police officer in town descended on my small home, smashing doors and windows in an attempt to save me. Mason had stood in the middle of the living room, choking me, refusing to surrender. With a battery of revolvers pointed at him, his hysterical laughter bounced off the walls. Without any further hesitation, Dave shot Mason between the eyes, those beautiful Paul Newman eyes. I held Betty's hand as the tears began to spill from my eyes. I would never chastise my friend for worrying about my stubborn attitude again. She'd been in the right place at the right time. I owed her my life! " Recognized

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