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

My hand flew before I could stop it, palm meeting his cheek with a resounding crack.

I can think of the consequences of getting physical in a verbal fight later.

Right now the satisfying burn in my palm from smacking him right across the face was reminding me that he wont be getting this close to me and insulting me without worrying for his face ever again.

The room seemed to hold its breath. My chest heaved, my nails biting into my palms. By now there has been a gathering of quite a few on-lookers at the bathroom door.

My eyes burned, but I refused to let the tears fall. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Not now. Not ever. I may have gotten slightly even with him on this one, it still doesn't change the fact that he treated me lowly and his words stung me.

Rome's head remained turned to the side, his expression unreadable. His jaw tightened, his hands twitching at his sides.

For a moment panic rose in my guts as I thought he was gonna strike back with the way his hands were shaking in pure fury.

But then a slow, dangerous chuckle rumbled from his throat before he finally turned back to face me.

His gaze was unreadable, burning with something I couldn't decipher. Or maybe I can: with the thoughts of putting me through a meat grinder- which he probably doesn't even need, he does the grinding with his teeth just as well enough.

When he didn't react as violently as I had imagined he would. I played my hand further.

"Not everyone's a sorry-ass gigolo like you," I bit out, my voice hoarse with barely restrained emotion.

And then I turned on my heel and walked away—no, speed walked—before I could catch whatever reaction flickered through those piercing whitish-blue eyes of his.

I didn't stop until I was outside, shoving past bodies and ignoring the curious glances thrown my way.

My lungs burned, my vision blurred, and my heart pounded so violently I thought it might burst right out of my chest.

Why? Why the hell did this affect me so much?

He was nothing but a pestering stranger—an arrogant, insufferable bastard who had no right to get under my skin.

Yet, my soul burned with a rage I couldn't explain.

A hand landed on my shoulder, and I flinched, spinning around.

His face softened when he saw the state I was in, his brows knitting together in concern. "Rose—"

Warmth engulfed me as Leo pulled me against his chest, his arms tightening protectively around me.

I didn't hug him back. I couldn't. My arms remained limp at my sides, my hands still trembling from the encounter.

Part from still being so angry I could go back in there and shove my fist down his throat and say 'You enjoy things down your throat so much huh, so take my fist you asshole!'.

And part from- well part from feeling utterly humiliated.

No one had ever spoken to me like that before. No one had ever looked at me the way Dracken did—as if he wanted to break me into pieces and devour the remains.

His words replayed in my mind like a cruel echo, slicing through me like a blade.

Some people were bad. Others were worse.

He was something else entirely. He was pure fucking evil.

58. Pure Fucking Evil