I held the phone tightly in between my hands as my body trembled in the closet. I could feel my lips shiver as I waited for what was to happen next. I could feel my heartbeat, heavy in my head. Death was coming, I was certain of it.

I heard the door slowly open, and I pushed myself hard back to the wall like I wanted to penetrate it. I could hear his footsteps. He closed the door and locked it like he already knew I was here.

He didn't even turn the light on; the moonlight was enough for him. He walked to the balcony glass doors, locked them, then began to whistle as he made his way back. I peeped through the tiny opening the closet allowed, watching the masked intruder invade my personal sanctuary.

He walked over to my wardrobe and began to search through my clothes. He found my knickers in one of the drawers and shifted his focus there as he rummaged more. He pulled out a red thong and sniffed it deep before putting in his pocket. He walked over to the bed and knelt down, peeping under, searching for me.

He looked around the room and smiled as if he could see me through the closet. The room wasn't big, so if I wasn't hiding under the bed, I was definitely in the closet. I could sense him smile through his mask as he faced the closet.

He put the knife on the bed without breaking sight with the closet, and slowly began to unbuckle his belt. I could feel my face tighten up as I stared in horror, watching him remove his pants. He wanted to rape me and the only man who could save me was gone. I killed him.....

****

Every gold-digger needs to retire and settle down eventually. I married him for his money, and I think he knew. He didn't mind as long as I gave him sex regularly and dressed my part in public outings. But that didn't give him the right to sleep with different women each night and embarrass my name like that.

So I spiked his drink and tossed him in the pool. The media ate what I fed them; I was a victim of a cheating millionaire playboy that overdosed on cocaine and fell into the pool. With fame, came misfortune. I was now a public figure, and given my past life of naked pics and videos, I was a potential target to pervs and sex offenders ...

****

I felt a heavy warm tear run down my cheek as he stared intensely at the closet. I found it harder to breathe as I watched him approach the closet. I held my breath, when suddenly, a light below me began to glow. I bit my lower lip hard in despair as I realised what just happened. In my state of terror, I gripped my phone tightly, accidentally turning it on.

I didn't even see the door open; he already had a hand around my neck. I smashed the phone as hard as I could in his face. He dropped the knife and comforted his face as I began to run away.

He charged after me, slamming my body on the little lamp stand. The lamp shattered into pieces, with bits cutting me.

He was now on top of me, aggressively ripping at my blouse with his eyes fixed on my breasts. I tried to fight him, but he was overwhelmingly stronger. I began to wiggle my body in a desperate attempt to shake him off. But nothing I tried seemed to work. He had already ripped my underwear and had his hand wandering on his own. I managed to free a knee, and I pushed it towards his hand forcing it to stay with its contents in his underwear, jamming his hand in the process.

In his frustration, he leaned over to my neck and bit it. I screamed in pain as he managed to remove my knee and free his hand together with its contents. His underwear was ripping in the process as he was forceful.

I started to fidget ferociously when suddenly my hand caught something, a piece from the broken lamp vessel. In one quick motion, I swung it as hard as I could across his face. I felt his warm blood spatter on my face as he fell back screaming in pain.

Without a moment's hesitation, I rushed to the other lamp stand on the other side of the bed next to the balcony. I grabbed my revolver from the drawer and unlocked the safety. Before I could properly aim at him, he charged at me with his hands meeting mine causing me to misfire. In our struggle, I managed to fire a second one right close to his ear.

He instantly fell to his knees with his hands holding both ears with face downwards looking at the floor. He removed his mask and tossed it away as his hands were massaging his ears.

I stood five feet away from him with both hands holding the gun aimed straight at his head. I couldn't see his face as he was still staring at the floor when suddenly, he began to laugh. I tightened my grip on the gun, unsure of what to do next, knowing that if I squeezed any tighter, I would kill him. He then looked up and showed me his face for the first time. I moved back to the wall, petrified with fear as I slowly fell in a sitting position.

I was looking at my 'dead' husband; I thought I killed him. His eyes shifted from me to the knife beside him, then back to me.

I said, "Don't even think about it, or I will kill you ... again."

He smiled at me with his tongue out licking some of the blood falling off his lips. Then he rushed for the knife and ...

*Director yells "CUT!!! Everybody take 5!"
The actor covered in fake blood stood up and walked over to his fellow actress as they both left the room giggling, clearly impressed with their work.*