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

"Well, good morning to you too—" he started, then paused mid-pour, giving me a slow once-over. "—Gollum."

I rolled my eyes, snatching a tissue. "Hey, I don't look that bad. In fact, I think I'm having a great hair day."

Jake snickered, flipping something in a pan. "Yeah? Say that again after you wipe the drool off your chin."

I groaned, tossing the tissue at him as the sound of sizzling batter filled the air. "Hardy har har. What are you even making so early in the morning. It's a weekend don't people sleep in?"

"Young lady, it's 11o clock, not early at all. And i am making my famous chocolate chip pancakes with berries and mimosas." there was excitement dancing in his voice. It's nice to see someone so active in the morning. Makes one us.

My thought quickly jumped to the fact that I woke up so late and still felt like I was exhausted.

My thoughts quickly spiraled to the fact that I had woken up so late and yet still felt utterly drained, as though the very night had siphoned the energy from my bones.

"Hey, have you seen my phone anywhere? I can't find it in my room," I asked, my voice slightly groggy. Just as the words left my mouth, a sharp sneeze tore through me, catching me off guard.

"It's over there on the living room table. I found it near the door when I got home last night. Which reminds me—were you drunk, or was it a mistake?" Jake's scrutinizing gaze met mine as I busied myself wiping my nose.

"No, I wasn't drunk. It must have slipped out when I—" My words trailed off as the memories of last night came crashing down like a tidal wave, drowning out everything else.

I straightened in my barstool, tension locking my spine.

The party. The bathroom. Rome Dracken.

'Do me instead. I'll even pay a nice wager for the night.'

Then the slap—my hand against his arrogant, infuriating face.

Leo. He had driven me home. He had been kind. And I... I had been cold.

Guilt gnawed at my chest, and I let out a slow, defeated sigh, slumping back into my chair.

"Rosie? You okay? You look pale. Did you catch a cold? I told you to wear a jacket before you left." Jake's disapproving voice cut through my daze, his concerned eyes narrowing on me.

I mustered a weak, sheepish smile and sniffled. "Sorry, I'll be more careful next time. Though I did wear a jacket, le—" I caught myself before letting Leo's name slip.

Jake was already in parental mode; no need to add fuel to the fire. "—a friend gave it to me. And I'm fine, it's just a little cold, that's all."

Jake hummed, unconvinced, as he cracked eggs into a pan filled with an excessive amount of butter. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice laced with suspicion.

I nodded quickly, eager to change the subject. Pushing myself off the stool, I moved toward the living room to grab my phone, but Jake's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"What friend gave you the jacket? I never saw Aria wearing one last night when she came to pick you up." His brows waggled knowingly, hands perched on his hips, spatula still in one.

I groaned. There was no use dodging him—he'd find out eventually. Besides, if Leo and I did turn into "a thing," Jake would have to know at some point. I was practically an adult now. Almost.

"Leo. My friend's name is Leo," I admitted, raising my hands in surrender.

"Friend?" he echoed, eyes glinting with teasing curiosity.

65. The Jacket