AkumaQuil

He inches closer, a single finger roaming her heated skin. Breath mingling with breath. 

A loud bang vibrates through the room, so thunderous as if god himself was furious.

Slowly he looks up staring out the large glass windows to the backyard, 

"You have a visitor." His rasps calmly.

"Who?" Rose quickly fires, feigning ignorance. She knew well enough who it was. Her nightly visitor has arrived.

Surprising, He only visits when she is alone.

"One who comes out at night. Lurking in the shadows, in the darkness... just like its intensions."

He looks down still leaning on top her, once more pinning her with his intense gaze.

"Are you afraid?" His voice dead serious, eyes going back to look outside.

And Rose lied, "No." 

But is it a lie when her fear was never really rooting enough to make her run the other way but instead often getting mixed with exhilaration.

"You should be."  

He leaves her staring wide eyed on the sofa and goes to stand before the glass panes.

"It's not happy to see me here. I can see the raging pits of fire in it's gaze. Ready to burn me right where I stand." he chuckled, sounding most sinister, "It definitely wants to rip my innards out."

"You should take off your shirt." He suggests casually.

"Excuse me?"

"Let's see if it riles him up even more to shatter instead of just slamming the windows like a wuss." He rouses under his breath, his excited provocative tone not escaping Rose's attention. 

What the hell is he up to?

"This isn't funny." Rose sputters out, standing up from the couch.

"I'm not trying to be." He faces her again, sporting a deadpan face. 

"Whatever. You think I'm one of your stupid fan girls to take my shirt off just because you want to rile someone up? Besides, there's probably no one outside and you're only making it up to see my boobs like a pervert."

His eyes roams her from top to bottom, there was distaste evident in his gaze.

"When he comes at night and leaves a little something for you, maybe then you take off your clothes for him... like a slut." Rome stared into her eyes with nothing behind those icy orbs to show for a lack of meaning behind his words. Because he means every single thing he says to her.

"Get. Out. Now!" Rose boomed furiously. 

"Whatever, I was leaving anyway. This has become boring." He walks towards her front door.

"Wait. How do you know he comes at night and leaves something?" her eyes narrow.

"Because I've seen it before."

"You saw him? It is a real guy?" Rose wanted to confirm, for some reason she thought otherwise.

"I never said I saw him. I've only seen it happening to someone else." 

"Whom?" 

"You don't need to know." He closes off.

"Then at least tell me what happened to her? Can I meet this person?" 

"You can't." Refusing calmly he was almost out the door when Rose pleads against hope.

"Please."

"You can't because she disappeared." Those were the words that finally did it. Brought her racing heart and buzzing head to a sudden halt. "Never to be seen again." 

 "When he stops visiting, that's when you should be most afraid." His words rang like a siren in the silence of her mind as he left.

Now she felt true fear for the first time.

==

In the embrace of her ancestral town, Rose seeks refuge from the echoes of her past. 

Little does she know, her return to her roots will awaken dormant shadows, shattering ordinary her existence. 

For when the darkness falls over the town, from the pitch black rises a shadowy figure that haunt her nights. 

In the darkness he sweeps her off the ground in terrible fear and the allure of sinister intrigue.

And once the sun comes, a man with a god awful attitude, haunts her in the broad day light. Causing her to swell with pure disdain. 

With each passing night, it draws closer to Rose, casting a chilling spell that both terrifies and exhilarates her.

Thrust into a labyrinth of mysteries can she navigate the treacherous path laid before her, or will her nightly visitor consume her whole?

He Comes At Night

She stepped into the room with her heart beating faster than a rabbit caught in a predator's stare.

I could feel it. Her unease. Her discomfort.

It wasn't just the spotlight that betrayed her—it was her entire body language, the way her confused gaze darted around the dark, abandoned space. Like prey stumbling into a trap.

The moment the spotlight hit her, I swear-- I will not complete that sentence.

She squinted under its harsh glare, shielding her face like it burned. Maybe it did. Maybe she wasn't meant to be in the light.

I almost moved—almost. My hands gripped the edges of the table so hard the wood creaked, and the bourbon bottle tipped, teetering as if it, too, wanted to leap toward her.

She wasn't just a girl. She was... something else. Something entirely infuriating. She had to be a witch or worse to mess with my head this way without even trying.

To pop cherry on top of this cursed cake? The party exploded into noise as the drunks jumped out of their hiding places like confetti in a cheap jack-in-the-box.

They screamed for her, all while stumbling over their own feet, spilling drinks, and hollering her name like she was the second coming of Beyoncé.

Her face was a study in panic at first—a deer caught in headlights. Then came the cautious smile, the polite nods. She was good at pretending, I'll give her that.

The drunk mob finally shut up when some idiot with a mic announced her like she was the guest of honor at this disaster of a party.

Of course. It wasn't enough for her to waltz into the room and mess with my head; no, she had to be put on a pedestal too.

I dragged my eyes away from her, only to find them snapping back, like a magnet being pulled to its source.

There she was, hugging someone. Laughing.

And that someone just had to be Leonardo Cruise.

Not even a month at this college, and she's already attached herself to that smug bastard? She's got taste, I'll give her that—terrible taste.

Grumbling, I drained what was left of my drink and stood, fully intending to make a dramatic exit.

The less time spent breathing the same air as Cruise and her, the better for everyone involved.

But of course, Ashton had to ruin that too. He caught my eye across the room, his eyebrows wiggling like caterpillars on crack, and a grin stretched so wide it practically split his face.

I wasn't in the mood for his antics, so I turned away and headed for the door, determined to leave this hellhole behind.

53. Pop The Cherry