18: to the light

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E I G H T E E N

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TW; take care of yourself

Callan's POV

"Frank."

My voiced seemed to echo on forever.

He looked at me; his eyes had once been filled with comfort and familiarity.

Now they were coloured with a hue of wickedness.

The man that I once knew stared at me with the face of a monster.

"Callan."

I had heard his voice for as long as I could remember.

But not like this.

His blank face slowly transformed, his lips lifting into a depraved smile.

"My Candy."

I had felt a deafening numbness prior to this, as though my brain was still trying to catch up to my situation.

It was those words that finally made me realize the actuality of my situation.

It was Frank.

He was the one after me.

I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat.

I couldn't tell what was worse, the fear or the desperation.

"F-Frank," my voice was weak, on the verge of begging.

I heard a dark chuckle, from behind him, "Don't say his name like that, he'll enjoy that too much."

Frank turned around, "Enough," he hissed.

I glanced around discreetly, trying to figure out which doors were open, what items I could use as a weapon.

Though, anything I could grab from the almost empty shop would be no match for the guns I saw strapped on the blonde.

"There's nowhere to go, no bother looking," the sleazy man's voice made Frank turn back around to face me.

My heart pounded as I saw the look in Frank's eye. The moment his body twitched, I knew he was about to grab me.

I shot back as he lunged forwards.

I desperately crawled backwards, still on the floor.

My hand went up to my necklace, feeling hopeless as I casted what felt like my last lifeline.

My thumb found the sensor at the back of the necklace and I pressed it, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Frank paused before shaking his head, moving forwards to grab me again.

My throat felt closed up as I tried to get as far away from him as possible.

The blonde man grunted, "I don't have time for this, either grab her or I will."

Frank turned around and growled out, "Stop scaring her."

It was too late for that.

Fear and I were one entity at this time, bound together.

I looked through my peripheral vision, trying to figure out how quickly I could get to the fitting room area and lock myself up in one of the rooms.

Maybe it would end up backfiring on me, but I needed to do something.

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