Chapter 15: Nobody's POV

The faint knocking on the door echoed through the dimly lit hallway, pulling Carol out of her restless sleep. Her head pounded slightly. Unlike her, she didn't go to the club today. She had a little fever and was exhausted, too exhausted to get up from the bed. 

She frowned a bit, the sound growing louder and more insistent.

“Phil?” she called, hoping it was him, but she got no reply. 

She hissed loudly, her fingers running across the nightstand as she grabbed her phone. With a few taps, she dialed Phil's digits, but the call went unanswered, this heightened her unease. 

Sliding out of bed, she padded toward the door, her feet heavy against the hardwood floor. The air felt thick, pressing against her chest as she reached for the handle. She inhaled slowly, grabbing the door knob and twisting it. The door's hinges creaked as she yanked the door open. 

A woman stood on the threshold, and Carol's breath hitched. The stranger was stunning, her beauty almost unnerving…almost out of the world.

Her features were flawless, her posture commanding, but there was something else—something dark, something that made Carol’s stomach churn.

She looked terrifyingly beautiful. 

“May I come in?” the woman asked, her voice smooth yet sharp enough to send shivers down Carol's spine. 

She leaned in slightly, her eyes locking onto Carol’s with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

Carol tried to look away but she effortlessly commanded her attention. 

Carol hesitated, every instinct screaming at her to shut the door, to turn this stranger away. But her defenses crumbled under the weight of the woman’s presence. For the first time in a long time, Carol felt afraid.

Without a word, she stepped aside, allowing the stranger to enter.

The woman walked in with a measured grace, her movements almost predatory. Carol shut the door behind her, hesistated before walking into the sitting room.

“Would you like a drink?” Carol offered, her voice trembling.  She needed a way to escape the woman's presence. It felt like the walls of the building were closing in on her. 

The woman's lips carved into what seemed like a smile, a cold smile. 

Carol moved to the bar, pouring two glasses of whiskey. She handed one to her guest and took a sip of her own, the burn of the alcohol doing little to steady her nerves. She hoped the burning nature of the whiskey would numb all her fears, but was disappointed. 

“Who are you?” Carol asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “And why are you here?”

The woman’s smirk widened, her lips folding into a thin line, a predatory glint in her eyes.

“My name is Sabrina,” she said, pulling a pamphlet from her pocket and placing it on the table between them.

.

 “I’m here because I’m curious. What kind of auction takes place in the middle of the night? And more importantly, what exactly are you selling in that underground?”

Carol’s heart skipped a beat. Her eyes darted to the pamphlet. She pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting to bottle her emotions.  She stammered, trying to come up with a response, but her words failed her, all that escaped her lips was a gasp.

“That’s none of your business,” she finally managed, her voice trembling. She hoped she didn't offend her visitor…she feared she didn't. 

Sabrina chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down Carol’s spine.

“Oh, really?” she murmured, her tone dripping with mockery.

“Yes. I'm….I'm not supposed to give you any information about this,” she stammered. 

Sabrina leaned on the couch, her lips curling into a smirk.

“Well, what ever you seem to be hiding in that underground of yours seemed to be…” Sabrina paused, thinking of the perfect word.

“Fun.”

“You think?” Carol drawled, adjusting her sleeves.

“Well, I've come to declare my interest. I wish to join,” Sabrina whispered, taking a sip of the whiskey, the burning sensation rushing down her throat.

Carol managed to scoff, fighting hard not to show her vulnerability.

“It isn't done like that, dear. Before you gain access into the…community, you'd be invited and I'll do a little digging about your background,” she stated, her voice firm.

“Oh really?” Sabrina asked picking interest in the discussion.

“Yes. We don't accept…everybody,” Carol continued, crossing her legs to exude confidence she wished she had.

Sabrina nodded, rising on her feet. 

“We'll see about that,” she muttered, straightening her sleeves. 

Immediately she was out of sight, Carol let out the breath she never knew she was holding. 

She couldn't help but ask,

“Who the fuck was she?”

*******

The room was dark, the shadows shifting and twisting like living things. Heather was surrounded, the creatures closing in, their glowing eyes piercing through the darkness. Her heart pounded in her chest, her body shaking with fear. 

A hand emerged from the shadows, she could tell it was feminine, its polished nails gleaming like polished glass, under the raidiance of the moon. It reached for her, the fingers curling in a beckoning gesture. She hesitated, fear and curiosity gnawing in her chest. 

Just as her own hand extended toward it, she jolted awake, her body drenched in sweat. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath, the nightmare living rent free in her mind. It felt so real. 

This wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t the usual chase through endless darkness, the horrors threaten to overwhelm her. This felt different—more personal, more real.

Her eyes adjusted to the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, and that’s when she saw him.

“Don’t you ever knock?” she snapped, her voice laced with irritation as she sat up.

Darren stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His presence was felt, even in the dim light, his aura dominating the atmosphere. 

“You have no right to just barge into my room like this,” Heather continued, her frustration visible on her reddened face. 

“This is my space. You can’t just…”

Darren remained silent, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her skin crawl.

Weirdly, he didn't respond. Darren was this type of guy that reminded her of her place each time she went ballistic on him. Today, he looked different, like there was something eating him up. 

When it became clear he wasn’t going to respond, she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What do you want, Darren? What could possibly be so important that you had to invade my privacy in the middle of the night?”

He pushed off the wall, his movements slow and calculated as he approached her. “I want to know about you,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Heather blinked, caught off guard by the statement.

“What?” a hint of confusion in her voice. 

“Your background,” he clarified. “Where you come from, who you are. The real you.”

She stiffened her posture, her mind racing with different thoughts. Why was he asking? What did he hope to gain?

“That’s none of your business,” she said, her tone sharp. “The only thing I’m here for is to… satisfy you, remember? That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Darren tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were studying her, searching for any answers on her face.

“You think you can keep hiding?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Heather's breath caught, but she forced herself to maintain her composure. 

“I’m not hiding anything,” she said, her tone casual. 

She felt uncomfortable discussing her background with Darren. If he found out that she was the bride he wanted to reject, he wouldn't hesistate to snap her neck.

He stepped closer, the air between them growing charged. “I’ll find out, Heather,” he murmured, his voice soft.. “One way or another.”

Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, his words hanging heavy in the air. He slammed the door behind him, the sound amplifying her thoughts. 

A few hours later, she could hear the screeching of the tyres as Darren drove out the estate. 

She could feel fear seep into her spine. Maybe he was on his way to Carol. 

She muttered some secret prayers, hoping his efforts would be futile.