Chapter 15 Chapter 15.
Chapter 15 Chapter 15.
(Rebecca)
I could hardly comprehend the whirlwind of emotions surging through me—annoyance, hate, and an unexpected flicker of attraction. Each feeling collided violently in my chest like a storm brewing, leaving me breathless.
Shaking off these chaotic thoughts, I stepped outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. The sprawling view of the mansion mesmerized me; its elegance juxtaposed the turmoil swirling in my mind. It was refreshing to discover new places to escape to, hidden sanctuaries beyond the familiar garden. As I wandered, my foot instinctively led me toward a staircase descending into... the basement? This mansion has a basement? My curiosity piqued.
But just as awe began to fill me, a sound pierced the still air, a grim, unmistakable cry of agony. Panic coursed through my veins as I hesitated, caught between a primal instinct to flee or to get help. But what sort of help could I find if I didn’t know the situation? The indecision gnawed at me.
Compelled by a surge of adrenaline, I rushed back down the stairs, treading carefully until I reached the bleak basement. I found myself engulfed in an eerie silence, empty save for the shadows and my pounding heartbeat. Just as doubt crept into my mind, the cry pierced through again, louder, and more desperate. My instincts kicked in, and I followed the sound until I discovered an enclosed space with a narrow opening.
Taking a deep breath, I scrambled for something to boost my height. A sturdy box caught my eye, light yet reliable; I quickly positioned it beneath the opening. Climbing on top, I peered inside, each heartbeat echoing in my ears, and my breath hitched in my throat at the sight before me.
Well-built men in black loomed over a man on his knees, a terrifying scene that felt unreal. His face was swollen and bloodied, his hands bound to a table. A few of his fingers missing, and a finger being chopped of by another man. I couldn't see his face just yet, but wasn't that the clothes Lucian wore today No, it couldn’t be him. Lucian was supposed to be in the room; he wouldn’t commit such horrors here in the game.
But as the man with the butcher's expertise turned, I felt a chill slither down my spine. I spoke too soon. Lucian wasn’t in the room, and yes, he could commit such horrors here in the game.
The look on his face was that of the Devil himself. Lucian picked up a power driller, and I felt my heart race as anxiety coursed through me. I hope...
He switched on the driller, and with practiced ease, bent over to the victim's side. My eyes widened at the sight of the first hole he had made. Lucian positioned the driller next to that gaping hole and began boring into flesh again. The scream that tore through the air was deafening, echoing off the walls and forcing my hand to clasp tightly over my mouth to stifle the horror building within me. Tears pooled in my eyes as I bore witness to Lucian's unrelenting cruelty. I wanted nothing more than to flee, but my instincts betrayed me. I was frozen, rooted to the spot, fear anchoring my feet.
After what felt like an eternity, he paused, standing tall with a grin that stretched from ear to ear like a child who had just been handed the most delicious candy. “Anyone got a paper and a pen here?” His voice was chilling, filled with a macabre satisfaction.
A man stepped forward, holding a mini notebook and a pen that seemed too innocent for the scene unfolding. Lucian took them, scribbling something down with fervor. Once he was finished, he tore out the note, a predatory glint in his eyes as he looked down at the victim, who was teetering on the brink of unconsciousness. “Don’t you dare die on me,” he threatened, his tone dripping with malice.
“At least not yet,” he added with a sinister chuckle. “You’ve got a job to do.”
Folding the note, he shoved it into the gash he had created, the cruel symbolism of his actions not lost on me. “Make sure your boss gets this message,” he instructed, the delight in his expression making my stomach turn.
“In fact, there’s really no need to talk to you,” he mused, picking the driller back up like a painter selecting a brush. “Let’s make sure he understands.”
“Take off his shirt,” Lucian commanded, and my mind raced, wondering what further atrocity he had planned.
Two men stepped forward obediently, stripping the victim bare. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. Lucian squatted down again, the driller buzzing ominously as he aimed for the man’s chest. The man screamed in pain until his voice wore out.
Goosebumps prickled my skin, a cold sweat trickling down my back, as tears threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes while I bore witness to the gruesome scene unfolding before me.
After what felt like another round of eternity, he paused his grotesque work, stepping back to admire his handiwork. That's when the terrible truth hit me, etched into the almost lifeless man with the very driller he had used, the chilling words: "HIDE FROM ME."
A shiver coursed through my spine, and just when I thought the nightmare might end, my misfortune escalated. The wooden box I had been precariously standing on splintered beneath my weight, sending me crashing to the floor with a resounding thud.
Heart racing, I scrambled to my feet, my senses ignited by the sound of approaching footsteps echoing throughout the enclosed space.
Instinct took over as I bolted for the exit, my breath quickening with each hurried step. The men burst forth like demons unleashed, and panic propelled me down the staircase. I stumbled, my foot catching on a step, and the world tilted as I crashed down. Pain flared in my ankle, but there was no time to assess the damage, I was still being hunted.
Driven by fear, I rose abruptly and continued my desperate flight. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, instinct guided me to the side, and I squeezed myself beneath the staircase just before they rounded the corner. I held my breath, a quiet prayer in my mind as they dashed past, oblivious to my presence.
Once the footsteps faded into silence, I dared to peek from my makeshift hiding spot, blinking against the dim light. The coast was clear, or so I thought. Heart pounding, I crawled from my sanctuary and dashed to my room, the walls closing in on me with each passing second.
Getting to the bedroom, I locked the door. Pacing back and forth, I bit my fingernails. After everything I've witnessed, I'm damn so sure that I can't continue the game with that Devil as my partner, not anymore. I know he's dangerous, and I'm afraid of him, but I still made sure to suppress my fear and be bold around him. But now, I don't think I can do that anymore. He might just torture me and kill me one day to punish me for all my nonchalance around him...and I won't let that happen, so I'm leaving the game.
With my newfound resolve stirring within me, I made my way to the wardrobe, my heart racing with urgency, only to be jolted back to reality by the sharp throb in my ankle. I squatted down, wincing as I gingerly assessed the swollen joint. Every pulse of pain reminded me that I didn’t have time for this, yet I needed to prioritize my escape.
“I can’t stay here anymore,” I whispered to myself, the words barely escaping my lips amidst the chaotic symphony of my thoughts. I forced myself back up, gritting my teeth against the pain as I reached for the wardrobe, desperate to rally every ounce of strength I had left.
With trembling hands, I flung open the wardrobe doors, clothes cascading down like a waterfall of color. I sifted through my belongings with frantic energy, stuffing them all into my suitcase.
Once I had managed to gather everything, I slammed the suitcase shut, my heart pounding fast. I grabbed the handle and pulled it up, feeling the strain on my ankle as I hobbled toward the door, a mix of fear and determination fuelling my every movement.
With a deep breath, I steeled myself and opened the door, ready to surge out. But on the other side stood none other than the Devil himself, with a dark suffocating aura around him. The Devil I was trying to escape from.