Chapter 3: The Forgotten Night

The farmhouse was far from the city, nestled in the outskirts, isolated enough for their birthday celebration to remain private. It was Clara’s idea to hold the party there. The sprawling fields and quiet air seemed perfect, offering the kind of escape they all craved after the stress of university life. But tonight, that very isolation would become their undoing.

Clara had watched Mark and Jason from a distance all evening, jealousy festering inside her. They were handsome, kind, and joyful—their magnetic personalities drew attention wherever they went. Since childhood, the four had been inseparable, but something had changed. Clara had seen them turning down invitations from other girls at school, refusing dates, always smiling politely. But it had become clear they were growing more distant from her, and she wouldn’t let that stand.

She and Samantha had planned everything down to the last detail. As the night grew darker and the drinks began to flow, Clara couldn't stop the anxious anticipation from bubbling up. Her gaze flicked to Samantha, who was sitting close to Jason, her hand lightly brushing his arm. Everything was going according to plan.

Jason leaned back on the couch, his laughter filling the room, while Mark sat across from him, equally relaxed. Neither of them suspected a thing. The drug had already been slipped into their drinks, a subtle, undetectable powder meant to heighten their desires, to bend their will.

“To old friends,” Samantha said, raising her glass. Clara’s smile was tight as she clinked her glass against the others, her heart racing. It was only a matter of time now.

The effects of the drug started slowly. Jason's easy smile shifted into something more unfocused, his gaze lingering longer on Samantha than it normally would. His movements became sluggish, but his eyes burned with an intensity that surprised him. He shifted uncomfortably, the warmth spreading through his body, tightening his chest, making his breathing shallow. Samantha’s touch, once so innocent, sent electric shocks through him.

Mark, sitting next to Clara, felt the same pull. His muscles tensed under his shirt, his heartbeat quickening, his gaze drawn to Clara’s lips, the curve of her neck. He wanted to pull her closer, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand, but there was something wrong. Deep down, he could sense it.

But Clara moved closer, her hand brushing his thigh, setting off sparks in his mind. His breath caught in his throat, and his fingers trembled as they grazed the small of her back. “Mark…” Clara whispered, her voice soft, seductive. She leaned in, her lips inches from his.

He should have stopped her. He should have realized what was happening. But the drug was too powerful, his desires too overwhelming. His hand reached up, cupping her cheek, pulling her closer. The tension in the room thickened, every breath, every movement charged with something forbidden, dangerous.

Across the room, Jason was caught in a similar trap. Samantha had moved onto his lap, her hands trailing down his chest. His shirt was already unbuttoned, his skin burning where she touched him. Every logical thought in his mind was slipping away, drowned by the heat of the moment.

The room felt heavy with anticipation as Clara guided Mark to the bedroom. Once inside, she began undressing, her eyes filled with desire and determination. The drug had taken full effect, clouding his mind, and heightening his senses. He was almost powerless to resist. As Clara pressed herself closer to him, Mark responded, their lips crashing together in a haze of passion and lust.

But even as their clothes fell away and the heat between them intensified, a sense of unease clawed at the edges of Mark's mind. His body obeyed Clara’s movements, but something about it all felt wrong. Too fast. Too intense.

Just as Clara moved on top of him, Mark's foggy mind cleared for a split second, jolted by the water dripping from the leaking pipeline above. He hesitated, his hand, which had been tracing her back, freezing in place. "Clara... wait..."

But before he could fully comprehend what was happening, Clara shifted, her movements too rushed, too forceful. Mark instinctively pushed back, trying to stop what felt like an inevitable rush toward something he couldn't control.

In that brief moment of confusion, Clara lost her balance. A misstep in the heat of the moment sent her tumbling off the bed, her body colliding with the nightstand. The sound of her head striking the edge was a sickening thud that pierced through the fog of lust and drug-induced desire.

“Clara!” Mark shouted, stumbling to his feet, his mind racing as he watched her crumple to the floor.

The room seemed to freeze, the haze that had clouded his thoughts lifting in an instant. Jason, hearing the commotion from the other room, rushed in, panic flooding his face. Samantha was right behind him, her eyes widening in horror as she saw her sister lying still on the ground.

"Clara!" Samantha screamed, dropping to her knees beside her, shaking her sister's lifeless body. Blood was beginning to pool around Clara’s head, the color staining the white carpet beneath her.

Mark stood frozen, his breath shallow, his heart pounding in his ears. “No… no, this wasn’t supposed to happen…”

Jason, equally paralyzed, whispered, "It was an accident... it wasn’t supposed to go like this."

Samantha’s sobs echoed through the room as she cradled Clara’s head in her lap. “Clara, wake up! Please!” But it was too late. The farmhouse, filled with laughter and excitement only moments ago, now felt like a tomb.

Mark’s knees buckled, and he fell to the floor beside Clara, his hands shaking as he realized the gravity of what had just occurred. They had come here for a night of celebration, but instead, they had crossed a line that could never be undone.

To be continued...