❝ Beware of the one who lives with you. At night, even shadows look like monsters. ❞
* * *
I remember my mother warning me from staying over at anyone's place. I was a stubborn girl then and never bothered to kno...
❝ I strike at night, when the devil is out for a bite.❞
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
four || ❛ refusals ❜
Devika
ON THE THIRD NIGHT, I found myself greeting silence way beyond the usual hour.
Neither were the chains rattling nor the lock destroying the door. It was just silence. Tempting silence.
Holding the bottles tightly, I push the door open and tip-toe my way to the kitchen. Luckily, it wasn't locked today.
The darkness was threatening, but it was nothing compared to my need to quench my thirst.
When is this power cut going to end? It is so hot.
The bottle was barely filled when it began. Louder and stronger than usual.
Turning off the tap, I struggle with closing the cap back with the other bottle slipping through my grip. Grabbing them with great difficulty, I turn to dash out.
Too late!
The door swings open with a deafening slam, joined by the rattling of chains.
Peeping out, I glance at him – a deathly and suffocating aura surrounds him. He looks terrifying. An absolute monster.
Our eyes meet. A dark abyss of an unending hate storming in his usually blank eyes.
Standing against the wall of the kitchen, I try and hide myself from his view and end up bumping my head against the shelf.
Ow!
Placing the bottles and key on the shelf, I rub my head. That hurt.
"Devika," He calls, his mischievous tone covering a depth of bloodlust.
A deep sense of fear passes down my spine. Although he is far from me, it feels like... like, he is right behind me, whispering and giggling beside my ears. I could almost feel him breathing down my neck. Snapping my neck, I take a look behind me.
He isn't here.
Sighing in relief, I peep out of the kitchen to keep a check on him.
"Devika, where are you?" He calls, walking into my room. The sound of the rod falling echoes through the house.
"Tch! Someone's being smart." He says and the shrill, ear piercing sound of him dragging the rod against the floor gives me goosebumps. I watch as a part of the window slides open and close and the faint drop of the rod sounds.
He threw the rod!
"... and I know just how to cut the wings of smart people." He turns and I regain my stance, praying that he hasn't seen me.
