The Monster On My Floor

The Monster On My Floor
POV: Isla
“No—no, no, no!” 
My voice cracked as I fell to my knees, the blood spread faster, dark and thick against the marble floor than my mind could keep up. For a second, I couldn’t move — or even breathe.

Damian Cross, the man who terrified me more than anything else, who consumed me, had just fallen to the floor at my feet like a puppet with its strings cut.
I pressed my fingers against his wound desperately, but there was too much blood. It kept gushing out, spilling between my hands like water.

“Damian!” 

“Damian!”

I shook him, barking his name so loudly as though it would make him wake up. His head rolled against my arm, and he was still breathing—shallow and slow. But every second dragged him closer to something I couldn’t allow myself to name.

Rage, fear, and desperation—they all tangled together inside me until I couldn’t tell them apart. This is the man who murdered my father. The monster who forcefully marked me to ruin my life.

And yet—

Here I was begging him not to die like he didn’t deserve it.

“Stay with me, damn you!” I pressed harder to his wound, my trembling hands useless against it. “Don’t you dare die on me, Damian. Don’t you dare.”
I should let him bleed, let the darkness swallow him whole. At least that would be enough justice and revenge for my father. But my body betrayed me with my tears blurring his face as I screamed for help.

“Somebody! Please!”

“Help!!”

“Help!!!”

The echo of my voice thundered across the mansion. Before I knew it, the sounds of heavy and fast pounding footsteps engulfed me. Mark burst in with his gun drawn, an undeniable shock on his face when he saw Damian lying on the floor in my arms.

“Boss!” He knelt beside us, shoving my hands away to check the wound with deliberate precision. I blinked at him through the hot tears streaming down my face.
“He needs to be rushed to the hospital…”

“No.” Mark’s tone cut like a blade. “There will be too many eyes and questions on him if he is taken to a hospital.” He pulled out his phone, barking fast orders in a low and deadly tone. “Doctor Marcus. Damian is badly injured and bleeding, I need you at his mansion. Now.”

I hovered there uselessly with my hands still covered in Damian’s blood. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding against my ribs. Mark worked like a machine, pressing harder to stop the blood from gushing out even more.

I grabbed Damian’s unconscious hand, pressing it against my chest like it could bring him back to life. “You can’t leave me,” I whispered, choking on my words. “Not like this. Not when I still….” The words got stuck before I could finish.

Not when I still hated you so much for what you did—not when I still crave you badly.
              
Minutes later, the private doctor arrived, his face pale as he set up Damian’s bed. I refused to leave his side, not even when they tried to push me away.
“Mrs. Cross, please,” the doctor said. “You can’t be here while I’m….”

“I’m not leaving him.” The words tore from me before I could realize it. My hand gripped his own tighter, his pulse fading away faintly under my thumb.
The doctor did his job. Stitching, binding, and injecting Damian with all sorts of drugs. I couldn’t watch or look away, even as my body ached from sitting at the edge of the bed for too long.

I couldn’t loosen my grip on Damian’s hands. If I did—if I let go for even a second, maybe he’d vanish. After what felt like forever, the doctor finished his job and walked away in silence.

Mark followed him out, posting guards in different parts of the mansion to stay alert in case of any attack. Finally, the room fell quiet. Just and Damian left me alone.

His chest rose and fell quietly but shallowly. His face was sharp even when he slept, locked like he was ready to kill at any moment. Even now.
I traced the outline of his knuckles with a trembling fingertip, my body betraying me again as the heat of his body crept into my skin, something I couldn’t wash away no matter how much I tried.

“I hate you,” I whispered into the dark. “I hate everything you’ve done to me. To my life. To my father.” My lips shook. “But if you die, I’ll never forgive you for leaving me like this.”

My head dropped to his forehead and I stayed there, drowning in the different thoughts that ran through my head. Part of me wanted him gone—while the other wanted him alive. I wanted both and neither. 

I didn’t even know when the tears finally stopped. Only that the room had grown darker, casting shadows across his face. I must have dozed off because the sudden vibration of my phone nearly startled the life out of me.

Unknown number?

My pulse spiked, my hands shaking as I picked it up to answer. “Hello?”
“It’s me Isla,” the voice spoke, familiar enough to freeze the air in my lungs. It was the strange man I had met that night.

“You…..” My whisper broke. “How did you….”

“I know Damian is bleeding out beside you,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “He’s been shot and he’s currently unconscious.”

My gaze shifted to Damian’s calm face, the faint rise and fall of his chest.” How—how do you know that?”
“That doesn’t matter.” His voice sharpened. “What matters is that this is your chance to finally end him.”
I gripped my phone tighter, nails biting into my palm.

“E….end him?” The words rushed out before I could stop them.

“Yes.” His whisper slithered into my ear. “Kill him now. While he’s helpless. Do it now before he wakes up…..”

“….This is the only chance you’ll ever have, Isla.”