Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
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𝗛e wondered how long it would take the cops to find him.
A small town on the outskirts of Los Angeles seemed like the fairest place to lay rest.
Long abandoned kitchen cutlery scattered across the sensationless tiled flooring as the heels of his shoes dragged through them, guided by the mobility in his arms and gravity. Inch-thick lines marked the areas they crossed together as Enzo did his best to swiftly avoid the lingering cobwebs.
Spiders small and large shuffled across the top of his boots, daring him to move off-kilter with a centimeter flick of his shoe. And he would have. He would have been thoroughly disgusted enough to commit to such a humane emotion if it weren't for the stump of neck bumping against his abdomen with each step back, dripping into his formerly white, now red, t-shirt.
Where his head once sat.
Bile threatened to make an appearance on the lackluster decorations, but rather than submit to it, he adjusted the grip of his fingers hooked under his armpits and continued his slow backpedal.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was almost rhythmic.
His own song—a symphony of what and who he could've been.
Enzo felt the coldness of the walk-in freezer door before his back connected with it. If he had any room left on his skin to feel goosebumps, he could make the guess that they'd appear now, but with the half-dry, half-still soaking blood coated along the exterior of his stomach, leaking through the thin clothes he'd worn for this occasion, his body was all set way before he even thought so.
He twisted across the surface, still facing forward, as he pushed and pulled in one fluid motion, greeting the swinging bodies of forgotten and rotting cows and pigs. Motion-sensor lights flickered in anything but a warm welcome, painting the walls a pale blue shade.
For a moment, he just stood there.
His weary and tired eyes surveyed the interior, wondering who had pondered these very corridors so long ago. Did they have a good life? Were they happy? Why did they leave? Is it possible that they too were isolated only to be abandoned under the blanket of understanding?
The tips of his fingers turned fragile in the frigid air, but even as he felt them, even as his breath came out in tendrils before his eyes, and those goosebumps finally paved a way, he stood there. As if he couldn't bear to continue this trek. As if he could no longer imagine his life being any different.
As if his dream truly became unreachable.
Enzo's eyes remained clouded by thought as he picked up where he left off and dove behind covers of transparent sheets. They had picked this facility for the freezer in the back, glad to arrive and see it had been left alone for many years prior. But as he finally reached the back and laid the body against a shelf in a sitting position, he knew it would take no more than a week to discover these remains.
