A/N This is the first chapter of revisions to the one posted in November 2015. Although different, it's hoped you enjoy this longer version more. If you prefer the original, turn to Chapter 5.

The TV drama this fanfic is based on has images that shock, revolt yet entice and lure viewers into a moral paradox. *Trigger warning* Moral ambiguity, sexual and violent content, read on at your own discretion... AS xoxo

It's pitch black. Katie jumps grapping the top of the six foot wall and hoists her body weight over. She lands silently in hushed converse on the other side. She looks left then right. Darkness and fog wraps chilly tentacles around Katie as she power walks away from the house cordoned off with yellow 'crime scene' tape.

The eerie quiet of residential University Quarter is pierced by heavy pounding of rubber sole boots no more than five feet behind her. Katie glances back but cannot make out the form of the person who was closing in fast. Taking the scenic route home, she pulls out her unregistered mobile phone surreptitiously sending two texts on the small screen that glows in the dark. She makes sharp turns, keeping up the gruellingly brisk pace.

Within minutes Katie reaches a fork in the road. Whoever is tailing her is at least two feet away. Without speaking a word, she hands off two thumb drives with the efficiency of a competitive relay runner handing off a baton in the crucial last leg of the race. The two figures she hands the thumb drives to dissolve into the cover of night walking soundlessly in opposite directions from her turn into Edison Avenue. She sighs with relief that the two figures are unseen by her pursuer.

Perspiration beads on Katie forehead and body under her heavy jacket. Like a fox burrowing into earth, a hair breadth away from snarling razor sharp teeth of hounds, Katie fishes keys from her pocket and darts into the red and brass door numbered sixteen Edison Avenue.

She squints at the bright light in the entrance hallway, heat from the central heating smacks her right in the face. She notes her mother's long winter coat is dry. She must have come home early.

After the chill outside, the continental temperatures inside is stifling. Pulling down the hoodie from her thick mane of brunette hair, Katie runs noiselessly up the carpet covered narrow staircase, her pace quickening as she draws nearer to her bedroom.

Katie's bedroom window faces the main street. She peers outside hoping to catch a glimpse of her faceless pursuer. No one is lurking outside the three bedroom house she shares with her mother, Lisa Benedetto.

Lifting the heavy, antique window frame, one inch above the window seal, a rush of cool breeze floods her unbearably warm bedroom. Katie gazes longingly at the far off blood moon that blends with the jaundiced glow of street lamps. Icy breeze wafting in from outside cools her heated perspiring skin. Snow white window nets and purple curtains dance rhythms to the wind.

Katie walks to the floor to ceiling book case her father set up from the IKEA store on Holywood Exchange. Below the top shelf of GCSE text books in ten different subjects, the middle shelf displays a row of psychology self help books and twenty three hardback copies of Alex Cross' investigations. She lets her fingers linger on the spine of twenty two well read hard backs in pristine condition. From the nineteen ninety three 'Along Came a Spider' to the two thousand and fourteen 'Hope to Die'. Apart from the killer prowling the streets of Belfast's University Quarter, the pages of her favourite thrillers are the closest she has come to a serial killer with a penchant for bondage kink.

The shelf below display eleven volumes of Anaïs Nin's diaries. Her handwritten diary is stored next to these. The bottom shelf has the Dark Dagger Brotherhood series, the Twilight Saga and Fifty Shades of Grey Trilogy.

Looking through the book case, Katie's mind wanders to the night she stumbled upon a secret.

***

She's lying on the sofa, re-reading 'Along Came a Spider' one ear listening out for the kids and the other for the key to signal either Paul or Sally-Ann's return, when Olivia ran into her arms.

"There's a dark haired woman in the attic," the child cried.

"It's only you, me and Liam in the house, let me put you back to bed."

Olivia shakes her head firmly.

"How about I go into the attic and investigate."

"Okay," the young child nodded enthusiastically.

"Wait here," Katie said going to the children's bedroom, bringing down the folded staircase then climbing into the cosy attic space above the bedroom the two children shared.

Katie finds a dark haired, long limbed realistic looking mannequin in grey matching bra, panties, stockings and heels.

She drags the mannequin away from the opening and props it onto the opposite wall. As Katie leaves the attic, she notices a cardboard box. Opening the flaps, she peers inside. She sees different kinds of women underwear and a journal with drawings of erotic asphyxiation and death fantasies. She immediately recognises Paul's handwriting.

He had written excerpts from published poems, prose, his own literary compositions, artistic photographs of women's bodies, clothing and driving licences. The quote that stays with Katie is the final stanza from T.S. Eliot's 'The Hollow Men'.

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Her hair prickles and goosebumps form on the back of her skin.

Decisively, Katie moves the mannequin and journals further away from the attic door throws a blanket over them. The mannequin is no longer visible when the small attic door opens. She then brings Olivia back to the bedroom.

She helps the little girl onto the ladder so she can look inside the attic space.

"Do you see anyone in there?"

"No," Olivia smiles winningly shaking her head from side to side.

"Must've been a nightmare," she helps her back down. "I can stay with you till you sleep," Katie tucks Olivia into bed and kisses her forehead.

"No that's okay."

Katie checks on Liam before turning off the light and letting the children sleep under the cover of darkness.

***Flashback to Paul and Sally Ann Spector's house

Since that night, Paul's journals have fuelled fantasies about the last violent throes of life charged with sexual intensity. She revisited the attic but the mannequin and the journals were gone.

Sally Ann, Paul's fair haired wife only sees the charismatic man, loving father and husband. She sees the darkness in Paul and refuses to be deterred by his protestations, "You think I'm going to strangle you? Do you really think the killer would identify himself so easily? Grow up Katie. I'm just a husband, a father, a man with a profession to protect. Keep your crazy theories to yourself, and stay away from my family."

"You are more than that," she provokes Paul. She wants to draw out the wounded snarling, wild animal that lurks under his carefully controlled facade. She bites Paul's lip until the metallic taste of his warm life force dripped into her mouth overwhelming her senses. When he rebuffed her sexual advances, she scribbled a message onto the mirror in her native tongue, Italian.

Turning away from the book case Katie sees a painting of 'The Nightmare' hanging on the wall. She stares in shock at the captivating piece positioned to have pride of place in her room. Baffled Katie glances out the window. Finding no one there, she looks back at the large poster size enigmatic yet darkly passionate painting mounted on a solid brass frame. Her brow furrows struggling to make sense of the unexpected finding. It was the same as the one she emailed for Paul earlier. A wry smile of realisation comes over her face. Paul broke into her bedroom. Maybe he's not as immune to her as he wants her to believe. Katie gazes intently at the woman sprawled out in the painting remembering a conversation with Paul.

*** Flashback

"I think about you every minute of every day."

"Is that painful."

"You bet it is."

"Other people's pain gives me pleasure. Your pain gives me particular pleasure."

She gasps as his hand shoots up and grabs her wrist hard.

*** End of flashback

Stepping away from the bookcase and the memory, Katie peels off her jacket, revealing the white man sized t-shirt with Paul's portrait at the front. She takes off the white t-shirt, black polar neck woollen sweater, black skinny jeans, black bra and matching cotton knickers. She drapes a short white bath robe over her nakedness and ties a knot at the front. She slips her left hand into the bath robe and caresses her right breast by moving her palm around it.

At lunch, Paul's hand reached and lingered on her upright teenage breasts. Closing her eyes, she imagines Paul in her bedroom, pushing her against her bedroom wall, his cold ocean blue eyes holding hers captive. Katie positions her right hand so her fingers stroke soft dark curls between her legs. She parts them further to caress more of her lower lips and the sensitive bud between them.

She imagines Paul roughly sucking and nibbling on her lips. As she moans, her mouth opens for his tongue plunging into her mouth silencing her moans. Pressing his muscular frame into her, his tongue thrusting in and out of her sweet mouth. As his lips and tongue becoming more demanding, his strong hands on her neck squeezing cutting off air then letting her gasp lustfully for air. Sounds of her strangled moaning and thrashing limbs increasing his arousal. Paul roughly penetrates her wet inner core, hurting her as his kiss deepens. Paul's arousal is stoked from her pleasure in the pain he inflicts on her.

"F*ck, I'm about to cum," she moans imagining Paul slapping her naked derrière, binding her hands and legs thrusting hard into her. His soft full beard rubbing the smooth skin of her face. She can't fight the possession Paul has over her body, over her life. She feels the terror rising yet she never wants him to stop. This is what it's like to die experiencing the indescribable agony of pleasure.

Focussing on her fantasy, Katie's fingers rub her throbbing bud faster. Pleasure permeates every sensory nerve in her body. Holding her breath, the pleasure building inside her swells, intensifies culminating in a cascading explosion of ecstasy.

"Ahhh," escapes Katie's lips as her knees gave way. She sinks clumsily onto the bedroom floor sated.

Katie is recovering breath when her bedroom door creaks open.

"Don't you ever knock?" She ties the knot on her open robe and scrambles off the floor. She glares at her beautiful, slim, petite, thirty-something, naturally brunette, career professional mother.

"Mind what comes out of your mouth young lady. What time do you call this?" Lisa's Italian accent is barely discernible as she twirls saloon styled hair, showing off exquisitely manicured fingers. The wedding and diamond engagement rings she's worn on her third finger for eighteen years sparkles.

Whilst filling prescriptions at the hospital pharmacy, Lisa overheard snippets of conversation. Speculations that the serial killer was targeting female brunette victims from a local pub, from work or an online dating site. The speculation was enough to bring her home early. Lisa's age, appearance and profession made her uncomfortably close to previous victims. Twirling a lock of dark hair, Lisa toys with the idea of becoming blonde like Stella Gibson, the poised policewoman leading the manhunt.

Glancing at her mobile phone, Katie notices it's in silent mode. "Sorry Mam, I was at a study group, revising for my GCSE's," she hangs her head closing the laptop on her study table.

"I don't want you out all hours when there's a prowler strangling women from this neighbourhood."

"I can take care of myself Mam." She pulls out a pepper spray can and personal alarm from her large back pack. "See, I have these. You taught me about the element of surprise."

"I can't help worrying about my little girl."

"I'm not a child anymore," she quipped defensively. "I'm old enough to pay taxes, leave school, get married, have kids and work."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," retorted her mother.

"Do you think I don't know that, Mam?"

Lisa and Katie have a clash of wills in a charged look.

"Alright then, mind you don't stay up too late," Her mother chides pressing a tender kiss on her daughter's cheek. As Lisa is withdrawing from Katie's bedroom she glances up at the painting hanging over the double bed and pauses.

"Where do I know that painting from?"

Hoping her mother does not notice the blush creeping up her cheeks, Katie uses the pretext of looking at the painting to turn away. "Oh that," she points, "It's a reproduction of Henry Fuseli's most famous work 'The Nightmare' it was featured in Edward Cullen's search results in 'Breaking Dawn: Part One'."

"Oh I remember it now. Fuseli had fallen head over heels for some young woman, I forget her name but this painting is the passion project that eclipsed his other works. The emotion evoking composition, the use of colour, the combination of light and dark...but I think you already know that," she flashed her daughter a knowing smile.

"Fuseli's unrequited passion was for Anna Landholdt."

Lisa nodded. "Is this to do with your Dad?"

"No."

"You shouldn't dwell on grief, violence and nightmares. You know, people run from predatory men, vampires, wolves and other creatures of the night. Not towards them...self-preservation and all that," Lisa stares poignantly at the painting and Katie's bookcase that displays her textbooks, fiction and non-fiction, movies and music collections before reaching for the door. Lisa can't help a flicker of a smile dancing on her lips at her intelligent, fiercely independent daughter. "Buona notte."

"Good night Mam," she replied putting her laptop on the bed.

Talking about the painting, turn Katie's thoughts to lunch...

A/N The structure of #TheFall shots are:

1. Summary & Disclaimer

2. Chapter One: theNIGHTMARE (I)

3. Chapter One: theNIGHTMARE (II)

4. Chapter Two: SKYPEchat

5. Chapter Three: embraceDARKNESS

6. Chapter Four: DARKNESSvisible

7. Chapter Five: thankYOU

8. Chapter Six: The original one shot -This chapter will remain as requested by fans.

9. Chapter Seven: Katie's letter to Paul Spector

Thanks for stopping by and reading this chapter. If you enjoyed it, spread the word by voting or commenting below...if you can, tweet, blog or use other social media platforms to spread the word!

Want to keep informed of updates as they happen, add # Love Scenes and The Fall, Erotic One Shot to your library. Love y'all! AS x

May, 7, 2016