Chapter 7: Again!

The aroma of something delectable wafted from downstairs, pulling Kelly from her room like a magnetic force. A low murmur escaped her lips as she descended the stairs, her senses alight with anticipation.

"John! Don't tell me you're making dinner!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with disbelief and delight.

Reaching the kitchen, she stopped dead in her tracks. A scene of culinary creation unfolded before her, and her eyes widened in astonishment. John, her John, was cooking. He seemed oblivious to her presence, his movements focused and deliberate, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Kelly moved closer, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Wow! You're amazing, John. What are you whipping up?" she whispered, peering over his shoulder.

He turned, a grin spreading across his face as he met her gaze. "I thought I should learn to cook. It'll come in handy one day. I'm making pancakes, fried eggs, and strawberry juice. What do you think?" He looked at her expectantly, his eyes mirroring the anticipation of a student awaiting exam results.

"Wow! I never would have expected this. My stomach is already growling, John. Hurry up, I can't wait any longer!" Kelly exclaimed, playfully ruffling his hair before heading towards the sofa to turn on the television.

John had nearly finished. He carefully arranged the food on the table before the sofa, then took a seat beside her. Kelly couldn't speak, only stare, mesmerized by the culinary tableau before her.

"It's picture-perfect!" she declared, snatching up her phone and snapping several photos.

"Thank you," John replied, a blush rising on his cheeks. For the first time, he felt a surge of pride, his heart swelling with the warmth of appreciation. This was the first time his cooking had elicited genuine praise.

He had cooked a meal for his parents before, but they always gave him a disgusted look, even when the food was delicious. "Maybe they're old," he would say, letting it go. But this time, a different kind of feeling filled his heart.

The warmth of the kitchen, the delicious smells, and the sight of John's culinary creation filled Kelly with a sense of contentment. She settled into the sofa, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched John eat his pancakes with an almost childlike enthusiasm.

"This is the best dinner I've ever had," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

John chuckled, his cheeks still flushed with pride. "You haven't had my cooking before," he said, his voice laced with a hint of teasing.

Kelly laughed, her heart brimming with happiness. She knew, in that moment, that this was more than just a simple dinner. It was a shared experience, a testament to their growing bond. And as they sat together, savoring the simple pleasures of a home-cooked meal, Kelly couldn't help but feel a sense of hope for the future, a future filled with laughter, love, and maybe even more of John's delicious cooking.

They ate together, played games, and shared stories. A few hours later, Kelly drifted off to sleep on John's lap while he scrolled through his social media. His eyes began to feel heavy, and he knew he needed rest. He looked down at Kelly, her face serene in sleep. He hated to wake her. With the utmost care, he slowly got up and carried her to her room. He gently laid her in bed, tucking the blanket around her, and kissed her forehead softly, a goodnight kiss. Then, he retreated to his own room.

By midnight, a knock on the door startled Kelly awake. She found herself in her own bed but had no memory of how she got there. Another knock echoed through the room, this time accompanied by a voice. "Kelly, open the door, it's me…John." Relief washed over her. It was John. She scrambled out of bed, her heart pounding, and threw open the door.

What she saw made her blood run cold. John stood before her, his legs tied to the ceiling, his head dangling downward. Blood dripped from his body, staining the floor. His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging on his forehead, and his voice, trembling with pain, barely formed words.

"Oh my God!" Kelly cried, desperately trying to reach his legs, but they were beyond her reach. "Who did this to you, John? Can you hear me?"

Tears streamed down her face as she held John's face, fear and agony twisting her insides.

"John please, don't leave me alone. Please tell me who did this to you? I promise I'll never let them go free. Just tell me," Kelly sobbed, leaning closer to hear his faint voice.

"Kelly, run away from here. It's not safe anymore. The man is coming for you. He said he will kill you. Go, run, Kelly, run," he rasped, his voice filled with desperate concern. He was pushing every ounce of strength he had left into those words.

Kelly refused, her eyes blazing with determination. "No, I won't leave you alone. I'll free you, and we'll go together. Just wait." She started to climb onto the railing, reaching for the rope, but John grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Kelly, listen to me, for God's sake! He's here. Go, run, just run. I'll come after you," he pleaded. Suddenly, his voice stopped. He closed his eyes, and his breathing ceased.

Kelly froze, tapping his cheeks frantically. "John…John, what happened? Open your eyes, baby, open them…Don't joke with me, John." She placed her finger on his nose, but there was no breath.

"No, no, no, no…" she screamed, her voice raw with grief. She cradled his body, her cries echoing in the empty room.

A hand landed on her shoulder from behind. She stopped her wailing and slowly turned her head. The masked man stood before her, a sinister grin splitting his face.

"I'm back," he said, his voice a venomous whisper, his eyes burning with a cold, malicious light.

Then, suddenly, Kelly jolted awake from her dream, drenched in a cold sweat. She gasped for air, her chest constricted with fear. She found herself in her own room, the familiar surroundings providing a sense of grounding. Taking a deep breath, she scrambled out of bed and ran to the door, flinging it open. The hallway was empty. The lights were off.

She raced to John's room, pounding on the door like a relentless drumbeat. After a moment, he opened the door, revealing Kelly, trembling and pale, fear etched on her face. He could see the terror in her eyes, the way her body shook uncontrollably. He quickly pulled her into a tight hug. Kelly clung to him, her body seeking solace in his embrace. Relief washed over her as she felt his warmth and the steady beat of his heart. She wanted to stay there forever, safe in his arms.

She pulled back, looking into his eyes, her face pale and her voice shaky. "I'm so sorry for disturbing you... I just..."

John cut her off, his voice filled with concern. "Again, that nightmare?"

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Yes. I came here... I just wanted to be near you... Can I stay?"

He smiled gently. "It's okay. You can sleep with me anytime you want."

He moved back into his bed, pulling the covers up. Kelly followed, shutting the door behind her. She laid her head on his chest, finding comfort in the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Within minutes, she drifted back to sleep. But John couldn't rest. It was the first time he'd seen Kelly look so terrified. The image of the masked man, the blood, and the chilling fear in her eyes wouldn't leave his mind. He knew he had to do something. If he didn't, those nightmares would consume her, leaving her shattered.