’ I took from him a pitcher of water, and drank long, while he watched me. ‘You are both my captor and my saviour. Yet I still know not who you ar..., or what you want with me.’ ‘You are my prisoner. But I will not mistreat you, as he has done.’ There was something in his voice that made me feel he spoke truly. Yet I suspected him still. ‘But who are you? You are no monk, for what monk would kill a man?’ For answer he stood, and straightened up tall, and I saw his face transform itself from that. My wife, Tiffany, and I had recently moved into a very nice 3-bed room apartment on the ground floor of a quiet complex. Our apartment was tucked away in the corner giving us almost total privacy; the exception was a similar apartment to ours with a small garden separating us. Within days of moving in I had seen the occupants of the apartment leaving for work one morning, she was a petite red head with small “Orange-sized” breasts and a killer body, while her husband was a well-built guy with. More

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