Chapter 19

The days turned to weeks and Regan followed Ruxena's instructions secretly, not letting her aunt suspect. She still heard his voice and even saw him. She couldn't believe he was a demon. What had changed, were the dreams. She wasn't seeing them anymore. And the roses, they weren't appearing anymore.

But she knew he was still haunting, watching her. And as for Vesper, she followed the ghost hunter's advice, she didn't give a lot about her haunting anymore and didn't even mention it again.

However, she had to meet Ruxena again. She had called her, spoken about the haunting progress, but still her aunt was a constant obstacle. She wasn't even allowed to go out of house except when she went to school.

And here she was, that night, sitting alone in the couch. Her aunt had work till late and Regan tried to keep her mind off all that bothered her.

But it wasn't like that.

Just as she grabbed another chip from the pack, she felt a hot breath on her neck and froze. She turned away, seeing there was no one here. But then when she looked at the couch, what did she see? The pack of chips was gone.

And before she knew it, her eyes were being forced close by a cloth that wrapped around her head firmly. She screamed and struggled, but it was too late. She couldn't feel her hands or legs anymore. Panic set in as she felt being dragged across the floor, her body sliding over the cold tiles. But then she felt herself being picked up, a strong pair of arms holding her.

She screamed again, trying to kick and thrash, but her body felt heavy, as if weighted down by an invisible force. What was going on, was he kidnapping her? Her mouth was also sealed with a cloth somehow. I'm going to die, she thought in terror, her heart racing like a wild horse in her chest.

And then everything went dark.

The place was concealed by shadows, a faint glow of red coming from the window, greeting Regan with an eerie sight when she woke up. Her vision was swimming, a daze of red and black, her pulse thudding in her ears as she pushed herself up, feeling a soft material around her. It was a blanket, and she realized she was lying on a bed. But it wasn't her bed, neither was it her room.

Regan blinked rapidly, her heartbeats skyrocketing as she realized the place wasn't familiar. Her memories were vague of what had happened before she slept, and she kicked the blankets off her. "God, what it this place?" she murmured to herself, her voice shaking. Her muscles felt heavy as she tried to move, the only sound in the room her own attempts to stand up. 

The smell of incense burning hit her nose and she scrunched, not being familiar with it. The room's temperature was cool, chills shooting to her core as she stood up and sprinted towards the window, pushing the curtain aside with a breath. 

The view behind it, it made her stumble on the steps, almost falling, her hands trying to find balance on something, a wall, or another object. But she managed to stand, the ominous sight of a bloody red sky after the window, burning in her retina. The window was high and small, so it didn't grant a lot for her to see more, but what she saw was enough. 

"This....this can't be real," Regan said to herself in bewilderment. This had to be a dream, just like the dream she was used to see with him.

Her hands trembling frantically, she started to move around the dark room, which now was slightly more illuminated.

She could make up where she had been laying, an ornate canopy bed, with plush cushions and sheets, that now were messy from her own movements. Regan swallowed hard, her eyes scanning the dark stone walls in ashen grey and blue, that seemed to close, too oppressive, despite the space that now was visible from them. Her eyes caught the door, a tall, black structure that seemed sealed with the strongest locks.

Regan ran a hand through her hair, her mind racing with incredulity and shock. What was she doing here? The room's luxury was palpable, each velvet curtain hanging over the windows, falling with a finality on the wooden floor, like an opulent confinement.

But she wasn't meant to be here. She rushed to the imposing, intimidating door, running her hands over the wooden surface until she found the knob. Of course, she couldn't open it. Her fists began to bang on it, but she couldn't force any words out of her mouth.

Tears started to well up in her eyes as she realized she trapped. Trapped in a dream, surreal reality, dark gothic room, or whatever that was. The crimson sky looked so small from the arched window, but it loomed like a demonic, terrific weight of fear and delusion.

"No, I'm probably hallucinating," Regan whispered, stumbling back, to where the bed was, and sitting there, tremors running through her body. Hallucinations were something she had entirely hated about being projected into, but now the last she wanted was for this to be true.

"My phone...." she mumbled, her breath quick and shallow as she searched around herself, no phone, no belonging she could find. Just the cold, silky mattress that felt suffocating.

The tears now were falling freely, part from the absurdity of the situation, and part from the thought that she wasn't dreaming, that she was caught in this twisted form of reality.

"I-I...want to....to get out of here," she said between sobs, the terrific nature of the place sucking out the air of the room, making her air-hungry. She covered her face with her hands and curled up into a ball, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.

The time stretched, long, short, it was no use to her. She felt like she was stuck in a nightmare, and the more she looked at the red sky, the more devastating the image turned. The red roses....the fire. Him. Had he decided to abduct her to this otherwordly place? She felt a surge of anger build within her. She remembered sitting in her own room, eating chips and then....

Suddenly, the door cracked and Regan flinched, her heart nearly stopping as she scrambled closer to the headboard, bringing the blanket up to her chin. It opened slowly with a rasp, a sound that sent a chill of fear and anticipation down her spine, and a faint light came from behind it. Her tears dried, and she was about to slip off the bed, just before a masculine silhouette came in sight, the booted footsteps like a countdown to something direful.

Each step was menacing, of a tall, broad shouldered figure that resembled none other than him. She knew it, could feel it. The creature who had haunted her for so long. His features got hit from the light, the red hue making his appearance even more demonic, a contrast to the icy eyes that stared back at her. He was clad in black, a robe that flowed with a gracefulness, every movement of his stance screaming power.

"Y-you're him," Regan found her voice, but it was breathless, like she were speaking into a void. She was trapped in her place, but her mind wasn't blank. Her eyes searching for anything, any self defense weapon.

But he continued to step closer, until the doors behind him slammed shut, leaving them both alone in the chilly air of fear and uncertainty. A hint of a faint smirk curled in his lips, as if he was enjoying her struck there, watching in both fear and anger.

"You're awake," he stopped, and observed, with a low, deep voice that was chilling, matching the coldness in his eyes. His smirk widened slightly, seeing how she was shaking, "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," voice was smooth, but Regan was beyond any kind of coaxing.

She jumped from where she was clutched, swallowing hard, trying to ignore the way her heart was pounding, "You kidnapped me!" she blurted out, her voice high and accusing, her hand sneaking around a near bedside lamp. It was a poor attempt for defense, but there was nothing else in the room.

The demon's eyes were intense, and it was like the bedside lamp was a mere toy under his scrutinizing gaze, "Kidnapped, you say?" he mused, smirk growing into a full blown smile, showing white, sharp predatory teeth that glinted in the dim light, "Perhaps you could call it more of an... unexpected rendezvous."

"Rendezvous?" Regan shot back, her grip not faltering on the bedside lamp. She had to not show it, she had to not give him the satisfaction of her fear, "You call dragging me out of my house rendezvous?"

"You're not just dragged out of your house, girl," he chuckled darkly, with an unnerving calmness that was more alarming than tension-loosening. "You see that crimson sky?" he asked, nodding at the window beside him, as if he had read her mind the whole time, "It's another world, another dimension."

His words, cutting and ominous, with a cruel finality, slithered around Regan's mind like a fume, making her head spin. She couldn't feel her legs anymore, either from fear, realization, or terror.

"You're lying," she choked out, her lungs suddenly burning, not just for air, but for a way out of here, away from his empty eyes.

"Am I? Look around you," he brought his gloved hand up, and Regan felt the lamp being snatched from her hand, her eyes widening as she watched it follow his hand's movement, landing on the table beside her with a thud. "You think you're on that pathetic place you call Earth?"

Regan took a step back, the weight of her situation pressing down. She didn't know where she was, but she needed answers. Why was she here? "Why you have been haunting me?" she demanded, trying to sound steady, "What do you want? Why am I here?"

His eyes narrowed slightly as he took a step closer, almost invading her personal space, "You're here," he began, eyes boring on hers, "because you have....some attributes. Powers that shouldn't exist."

Her eyes grew wide with confusion, and she could feel her heart racing, part from his words, part from his presence.

"I don't have powers at all," she retorted, standing her ground, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "I'm a human," she felt the need to say it, though she regretted it. It made her sound even more vulnerable, in front of this dark entity, towering over her.

"Oh, but you do," he leaned closer, tilting his head. She recoiled, forcing herself to not breathe his cologne, to not leave any trace that she was afraid. But he could see it, fear, anger in her eyes, and it was like he was savoring it, the way her cheeks flushed under his assessing gaze.

"You're wrong," Regan managed. She hoped she'd have enough space to step back, but she had reached the cold wall with a finality that send a shiver down her spine.

"Even if I am," he drawled, voice low and deliberate, filled with a sense of dark amusement, "the bond.... it's never wrong."

Regan's froze. She watched as his eyes darkened into something.... crimson, as if blood had replaced the empty vessels of his retina. His words were heavy and potent, leaving her even more confused then before. "You're insane," she said, pressing herself closer to the wall, not wanting him near her, "You're going to regret doing this to me."

The cold, mocking smile hadn't left his lips, nor had the crimson glint in his eyes, "We'll see about that, Regan," he said her name with a twisted reverence, as if it mattered to him in some wicked way. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers, and Regan had to force herself to not cower, to not do something that'd give out the horror within her.

But he was about to leave, with these words that raised more questions than answers. She wouldn't be dismissed like that, "I don't have any powers or whatever you mean!" she protested, taking a step forward, "And I need answers."

"Ah, answers," he replied, tone calm and taunting, "Answers will come. With time." He turned away, but Regan didn't stay in place, "Let me out," she demanded, a spark of defiance in her eyes.

But he didn't look at her. Instead he snapped his fingers, and the oil lamps she hadn't even noticed in the walls, they flickered to life, yet they didn't light his frame. "You might need some light," he said, ignoring her words.

But it wasn't the room's light she needed, it were the answers to her questions, "The dream, the haunting," she began once more, following him cautiously, "How did you do that?"

He stopped, and she backed away, unable to expect his next move, "The dreams are yours," he said cryptically, "The haunting.... it's just that. Haunting. Not as much of a privacy invasion as you think." His words were like sarcasm, but surprisingly he said them all too seriously. He continued to walk to the door, while she just stood there, knowing that she couldn't overpower him physically, not in this state at least.

The doors opened, his intimidating silhouette disappearing behind it, leaving a trail of black mist from where he had been. Regan hadn't even noticed that. She sank on the floor, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. She had to get out of here, had to find a way. But how could she, when she didn't ev

en know where she was, when that demon had brought her in his own, twisted world?