As the first of the snow swept across the island, Isis was grateful she had finished the last of the Christmas shopping the previous day. The fire burned hot in the hearth, emitting a startling warmth that wrapped around her like a blanket. Feet up and a glass of expensive Sauvignon Blanc in one hand, she was content and prepared for Christmas Eve, a day she dreaded and invited in equal measure. The mayhem of such a day was to be expected in a household with two young children.

From her position in front of the fire, Isis could see Max and Sean rolling in the six inches of snow which had fallen in such a short space of time. Jumping to their feet, they preceded to pick up snow, scrunching it in their tiny fists to form a snowball, lunching it at each other.

Isis laughed, taking a sip from her wine, savouring the subtle blend of fruits as it teased her sensitive palate, pulling a pack of Richmond from her bag and sticking one between her lips. Inhaling deeply she turned back to the pantomime outside, but Sean and Max where no where to be seen.

Blowing out a trail of blue smoke, Isis looked at the ornate clock sitting on the oak mantle, the cast iron hands proudly declaring that it was 6:45, fifteen minutes before dusk would fall. Already the sky was beginning to darken; the sun having long since retreated behind the fluffy clouds.

Turning on the TV, she skipped through the channels, each one portraying some form of Christmas cheer, settling on the movie channel where James Stewart was dashing through the streets in ‘A Winter’s tale’. Isis grinned, memories of her own childhood flooding back, James Stewart having been as much a part it as Santa Claus. Of course, it was all changed now, and not for the better in her opinion. Commercialisation had taking over, the emphasises on the gross profiteering rather than the magic and true meaning of the season. It was still worth it for the kids though, nothing beat their beaming smiles on Christmas morning. The clatter of the door opening shook Isis from her reverie announcing Jimmy’s arrival.

“What’s that look for dearest?” Jimmy teased, shuffling out of his coat and hanging it on the back of the door. “This is the season of good while ya know? Especially to me”.

“I’m full of good cheer, but like any good detective will tell you, I know when when someone is acting suspicious”.

“Is that right Miss marple? Care to give me your theory on my jovial mood?”

“Well, judging by the speed you left the house earlier, I can assume that you forgot something. Being a suspicious soul as I am, I’m thinking that it was something for me. Am I right?”

“Perhaps”. Jimmy leered, looming over his wife. “Or perhaps I decided to get you something a little extra”.

“Extra!” Jimmy nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

Getting to her feet Isis put her arms around his neck and pulled his face to her so that their noses where touching. “Can I have it now?” She giggled, tossing her hair behind her ears.

“And what sort of lesson would that be to the kids, huh? Not a very good one. Set a good example woman!”

“Yes, sir”, Isis continued to mock. “Perhaps I can persuade you to give me a little sneaky peak before the kids come in”.

Eyes brows raised, a sign that he was very interested. Jimmy: “You’ll have to be very persuasive to get anything out of me. I was tortured by Hitler you know? Can you do better than him?”

“Tish and pish. I can knock Hitler into a cocked hat”, Isis laughed, moving her face even closer so that their lips touched. “Want to see?” In response, Jimmy met her lips. Isis responded in kind, her tongue probing for the moisture inside his mouth. Gasping, she pushed against him with more pressure, the excitement inside her building and a familiar heat spreading between her legs. Taking his hand she began to lead him up stairs when Max’s scream shattered the festive atmosphere, an omen of the darkness that was already spreading through South Port like a virus——

——Exchanging frightened glances for a moment, Isis and Jimmy stood frozen as though posing for a photo. Identical expressions of fear crossing their faces before they darted for the front door.

Just relax, Isis tried to calm herself, he’s probably fell or something. As much as she wanted to believe it, she knew their was no truth to it. She felt as though a lead weight was attached to her back, a load that she could not discard.

Jimmy followed in her footsteps outside the house and out into the front yard where Max and Sean had been happily playing not ten minutes previous. Their was no sign of them, or anyone else for that matter. The streets where deserted, apart from a few snowmen that watched with their black unseeing eyes. Observers to the insanity. Ignoring her mind’s yearning, Isis scanned the ground, countless footprints spreading in all directions. Shuddering in the cold, she ran round the side of the house, into a narrow alleyway that granted access to the backyard via a gate that was usually locked. “Call the police”, she rasped.

“Calm down, love, their probably play—-”

“Please, just call the police”, Isis choked, holding back tears. Fear was beginning to drive her, a red hot emotion that almost scared her more than the thoughts of what could have happened to Max and Sean. “Please”.

The pitiful look on his her face was enough to get Jimmy moving back to the house. His stomach sank as the sight of her dead gaze, a look that he had known well from Iron Wood Hospital where she had been admitted after the accident. He still had nightmares about it, often waking up drenched with sweat in the dead of night. The death of Frank, their eldest son still hunted him, and he guessed it always would. He still refused to believe that Isis had drowned him. Such an idea was just ridiculous. The woman he had fallen in love with so many years ago was soft, gentle and loving. Certainly not the monster that the courts insisted that she was. She was his wife, and he was determined to be the husband that he had promised to be.

For every month for two and a half years, he had visited her, wanting nothing more than to be able to touch her. But the doctors insisted on the protective glass, not listening to his pleas that she wasn’t a monster, she was his wife. At time she had been incoherent, nothing more than a drooling zombie, zonked out on valium apparently meant to protect her from herself. Another ridiculous notion as far as he was concerned.

He had felt like a drowning man, trying to swim his way to shore, back to a normal life, but each time he thought he was getting close the current carried him back out. But he had fought, he had played the loving husband that she needed, and gradually Isis condition had improved. The visits increased to two per month, each one slowly reuniting him with the woman he loved. On 2^nd March she had been released. It felt like a dream as she ran into his arms, covering his mouth in hungry kisses, proclaiming how much she loved him. Jimmy didn’t know if he had the strength to go through it again. Did his love for her have limits? Angrily he shut the thought out. It wasn’t going to come to that. The kinds were just playing a joke on mummy, something he would have to discuss with them later when all this had blown over. For now, the best thing was to phone the police, if just to put her mind at ease.

Picked up the phone he began dialling 999, but the sound of someone giggling caused him to stop mid-digit and turn around. The first shotgun blast ripping through his right shoulder, shredding bone and tissue like paper, blood spraying the wall behind. Jimmy crumpled to his knees, life draining from his eyes. “Please don’t do this—” he started to beg. The second shot was from point blank range. Jimmy’s head exploded, his headless torso twitching for a seconds in a growing pool of blood before lying still. The shooter pumped another blast from the shotgun into his legs, smiling with glee and his lower limps where torn of from the upper torso, more blood mixing with a the ghastly mix of intestines and faeces ——–

——- the blast of the shotgun split the cold night air like a siren, but it barely registered with Isis. Already, she could feel her mind slipping into the darkness where she had spent the good part of two years. Slipping into that abyss was like coming home, it felt so right. She was greeted like a long lost lover, immediately being greeted by Mr. Flagg when she rapped on the large oak door.

“Welcome back Ma’am, he whispered, taking her hands in his, and planting a kiss on her rosy cheek. “Glad to see you are in great health my lady. You have been missed”.

Isis smiled, taking in Flagg’s skinny appearance, thanking him for his warm greeting. You have no idea how much I have missed this place”.

“Things not going well top-side?” he quizzed, a small smile lingering on his lips.

“Not at all. The kids have gone missing and I think Jimmy may have been shoot!” She responded bluntly, walking past her host and taking a seat in on of the tiger-stripped sofa’s that lined the living rooms interior. Everything was as she had remembered it, so warm and homely. The usual smell of freshly baked bread hung in the air, tingling her nostrils and making her stomach grumble in protest. “Is that Ms. Reed’s fabulous baking I smell, Albert?”

“Indeed it is “Ma’am. We have been expecting you. Drink?” Isis nodding saying nothing as Flagg approached the grand, drinks cabinet in the corner of the room, removing two fluted champagne glasses from behind the flawlessly polished glass. “Mr. Gross bought a few bottle of champers to celebrate your arrival my dear”, he narrated, popping the bottles cork with a satisfied grin and filing both glasses with the expensive champaign. “It really is good to see you again. It has been very lonely without you. Everyone drifts in and out all day long, barely stopping for a chat. You always made time for me Ma’am. I never forgot that”.

—— Dr. Jordan squinted though the small panel on the cell door, a single tear glinting in the dim light. “Was that how you found here?” he asked the pock-cheeked man behind him. Inspector Rains nodded in agreement——

Isis accepted the glass, taking a mouthful of the liquid and letting it swirl in her mouth for a moment, savouring before swallowing. “Truth be told, I have more in common with you Albert than I have with anyone else here”, she admitted, tapping the spare seat seat beside her. Mentioning for him to take a seat. Nodding in acknowledgement, Albert sat down, throwing his left leg over his right, settling down into the sofa’s soft material.

——-“We got a call from a neighbour about reported gunshots. When we got there we found her feet up in front of the fire, a glass of wine in one hand and a smoke in the other. Her family lying dead at her feet. Jeez, I couldn’t believe the amount of blood. I think she shoot her husband at point blank range”———

“Thanks you for saying so, my dear, but we both know that simply isn’t true. Mr. Gross thinks very highly of you. He was simply buzzing earlier at the prospect of your return. Ms. Reed has been baking since the early hours for you”.

“God love her”, Isis said. “Taking about Mr. Gross where is he this evening?”

——-Jordan nodded, closing the viewing panel on the cell door. “I thought she was over it, before we let her go, she was evaluated by two more psychiatrists, as well as me. She was perfectly sane inspector”. Rains grimaced. “Well, she ain’t any more.——-

Flagg chuckled, taking some of the champaign himself, nodding his approval. “I’m not sure actually. He popped in earlier saying that he had to go out for a few hours, but he would be back in plenty of time for your arrival. I’m sure he has just got held up.”

“I’m, sure. How is Silvia these days Albert?” At the mere mention of her name, a twinkle erupted in Flagg’s eye, a broad smile igniting his bland face. “As good as ever. She simply is a marvel to behold”.

“Did your marry her Albert?”

“Indeed I did. Nothing was going to stop me. The first day I say that pretty lady, she had my heart and I wasn’t going to ask for it back”.

——“Do you know a Mr. Gross, doctor?” Rains asked. Jordan nodded. “During our sessions she often spoke about him. I never really understood who he was, or if such a person really existed. Perhaps it was someone from her childhood, but it doesn’t matter any more really. Why do you ask?”

“She was speaking to someone by that name when we arrived on the scene…well an empty armchair really”——-

Isis smiled. “I’m glad for you Albert. You deserve such love and she is made for you. When was the happy day?”

“A few days after you left. A dropped to one knee after a meal one night. 50 plus people in the restaurant. I thought I would have dropped dead if she had said no”.

——“I guess that makes sense. “When she killed her oldest kid a few years ago, she said that Mr. Gross told her she had to do it. I thought I had convinced her that he didn’t exist. I was fooled inspector, as was many of my colleagues. I think the day she was released she was still delusional, but was able to hide it from us all. All it took was a small trigger and I guess something happened that brought it all back”.——

“No!” Isis scoffed. “How could she have said no to you? You two were made for each other.”

“Thank you Ma’am. She said she would pop in later to say hi”.

“Will you ever let her out again doctor?”

Jordan shook his head. “Nope. She will spend the rest of her life in Iron Wood and will most likely

die there. Such a shame really, she is the most extraordinary woman. A genius in some ways.”

“You sound like you admire her doctor?”

Jordan sighed. “In some ways I do. She deserved to be happy, and to make her make in the world. Something she was more than capable of doing. Life just got the better of her I suppose”.

For a while they both where happy just to sit in silence enjoying the excellent champaign. Isis thought about the last time she had been here and the day she had left. It had been so hard to leave and back then, deep down, she knew it was the wrong choice. Here there was nothing that Mr. Gross couldn’t fix. Perfection wasn’t too much too ask for was it? Isis closed her eyes, happy to be home.