[37] : Go lower.

3.9K 124 23
                                    

"A monster's weak point is the heart...
Think you can reach it?"

* ** ** *** **

Third person's POV

The car came to a screeching halt when they arrived at the house, jerking their bodies a little forward and snapping Kent out of the cocoon he'd wrapped himself into since the ride had started. He blinked to himself, gulping down a ball of nervousness. The inertia broke into a temporary silence as they all sat, waiting for something perhaps.

The boy raised his eyes, peeking from behind the hair splaying across his face, his body shivered unnoticeably and he bit his lip as he met the cold haunting eyes of Ivy that watched him through the mirror. She gripped the door as she clicked it open, sliding out of the car instantly.

Claude did the same, slowly matching out and shutting his door. They both left Kent inside as they paced around the vehicle, momentarily leaning against it and muttering a few things to themselves. It all brought apprehension to the boy and he clutched the hems of the black hoodie, tapping his foot. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering what would happen next. He was still petrified that he'd be the next with a bullet through his forehead. The emotion snatched him into such a tight embrace, pulling him into the dark covers.

Looking back at what happened in the past two hours made him speechless and numb. Fear was one ugly feeling and it coursed through his body like a drug in this moment. He shouldn't have gotten into the car, he should have tried running perhaps ; no matter how stupid that sounds. But anything would have been better than accepting to come with them.

When the door to his left flew open, he tried to pull away but it was extremely useless when an muscled inked arm reached out and clamped on him, roughly dragging him outside. He stumbled out, his feet landing on gravel clumsily. Kent didn't have the time to ask what was happening before he was once again pushed up against the car, face smashed on the skin cold glass. His mind bubbled in horrified confusion when both his arms were pinned behind his body in a tight grip.

The sound of hand cuffs clicking as they clamped around his wrists. He tensed at the feel of the icy metal biting into his delicate skin.

"What are you doing?" Kent asked, voice ridiculously high pitched. Why did he even have cuffs?

King didn't acknowledge anything he said, instead, the man took a hold of him and began pulling his body towards the house, his grip inconveniently tight. His mind still heavy with frustration.

"Ivy?" Kent's eyes travelled to her in a daze. She seemed to have calmed down a little bit since the car ride and she was somewhat more like herself.

Her head turned in his direction with an annoyed irritated scowl. "What?!"

He struggled against the holds, blinking at the hateful expression. Long gone was the teasing playful girl he'd been with at the school. Now he was all the way back to square one. This made him realize how he'd slowly been slipping into the friendlier side with her.

He grinded his teeth as his feet stumbled over each other to keep up. "What will you do with me?"

She pushed open the door to the house and entered, leaving to King to drag the boy inside. "That's for Claude to decide."

It took Kent a moment to put together that Claude must've been King's other name. By that time, his face came in contact with the cushions of the couch. He fought with himself as he scrambled to get his body into a proper position, but with his hands tied behind his back, things were hard and messy. When he'd accomplished putting himself right, he let out a breathe and tried blowing the hair falling over his face. His eyes turned back, neck spinning to watch as his two assaulters attacked the kitchen, huge bottles of alcohol in their arms.

Ivy BathoryWhere stories live. Discover now