"Where are ya, tart?" called Creighton's common English accent. His voice echoed in the empty area, sending a spike of dread straight through your heart. You didn't want to know how he got out of that cell you left him in—if he cut it open with his terrifying axe. You had much bigger concerns, like that same axe cutting your chest open so he could steal your heart, just as he had promised.

"I'll see you again soon, tart. Your heart will be mine."

You had hoped it was just an empty threat, but clearly, Creighton meant to do good on it. He had cleverly led you to the edge of a cliff, where the only way out was down or back through a labyrinth—where Creighton was.

"You can't hide forever, sweetheart. We're meant to be. Just let me have your heart." He was far too close to your hiding spot behind a bunch of ceramic pots. Your wanted heart nearly stopped as you saw Creighton emerge into the daylight, stopping to listen for you. You clamped your hands over your mouth to quieten your breathing.

"Where'd ya go, hm?" Creighton asked aloud, the tease in his tone suggesting that he knew exactly where you where. Evidently, that was not the case, as he walked straight to the edge of the cliff, seeming to look for any signs of you jumping off. Your eyes widened at the opportunity to push him off, to finally rid him from your life once and for all. As quietly as you could, you crept from your hiding spot to behind Creighton. When he turned around just as you were about to push him off the edge, though, you startled. It was all the time he needed.

He grabbed a dagger from his belt and pushed you to the floor, sitting on top of you on top of you. His blue eyes were wide with mania, relishing in your futile struggles. The pointed tip of the dagger pressed against your chest, almost drawing blood. You closed your eyes, waiting for death. But..

"Why do you make me do this, tart?" Creighton asked, suddenly sounding sad. You opened your eyes, finding his own icy blue ones drawn together by a furrow in his brow.