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

There he was, the infamous Mr. Rome Dracken, perched nonchalantly on the inner edge of an oversized, claw-foot bathtub.

The dim light from a vintage chandelier overhead glinted off the dark tiles, casting fractured shadows on the walls.

On his lap sat Ariadne, her legs draped over his, her arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed her lips to his with a fervor that made the air feel heavier.

And yet, amidst all that, he had the audacity to open his eyes mid-make-out session and lock them onto me.

His icy irises glimmered with an unsettling calm, as though catching someone witnessing this private moment wasn't at all a problem for him.

I stood there, frozen, staring back at him with my mouth half open in sheer disbelief. Ariadne remained oblivious, her lips still working against his as though she were trying to consume his entire soul.

Gross and unsettling didn't even begin to cover it.

Walking in on someone's passionate moment was one thing. But having one party of the pair casually make unbroken eye contact with you while it happened? That was on another level entirely.

The creep factor sent a shiver down my spine. Just as my brain caught up with my body and I turned on my heel, Ariadne began to sense something amiss.

Her movements slowed, and when she followed his line of sight to me, she let out a shrill shriek that could have shattered glass.

"What the hell are you doing here?! Can't you see this room is occupied, you blind bitch?!" she spat, her voice dripping with indignation.

Her face twisted into a mix of horror and outrage, and her arms immediately flew to cover herself, though her barely-there silk robe did little to preserve her modesty.

Oh, believe me, I wish I were blind. The image of them was burned into my retinas like some cruel cosmic joke.

Oh yeah, I do think I went blind after seeing you snog, bitch!

Still, as a person with some semblance of self-control, I swallowed my rising irritation. There was no point in trading barbs with someone as dense as Ariadne.

"Ugh! You ruined the entire mood!" she huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she climbed off his lap with an exaggerated stomp.

Her bare feet landed on the cool tiles with a slap, and she grabbed a nearby towel to cover her disheveled self dramatically.

I could feel the weight of Rome's gaze pressing down on me like a physical force, but I refused to look his way. Instead, I kept my eyes trained on Ariadne, who was now busy throwing a tantrum.

"What were you doing? Watching us? You creep!" Her accusing tone made my blood boil.

"Oh, please," I snapped, the last shred of my patience dissolving. "This is a bathroom, not your personal sex dungeon, you shit snogging fish! Lock the door next time, for crying out loud!"

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, I thought she might actually lunge at me. But before she could unleash whatever venomous comeback was brewing in her head, Rome's deep, velvety voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Let it go, Ariadne," he said, his tone deceptively calm. His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her close as he began to steer her toward the door. "Some people don't know when and where they're not wanted."

The words, though spoken smoothly, were clearly meant for me. And while I knew I should let it slide and let them leave, something about his smug demeanor made my blood run hot.

55. On His Lap