"He's behind me, isn't he?"
Aria's POV
I watched as the last of the black smoke dissipated.
My mouth was in a relaxed frown, and I sighed.
The reason I'd been crying wasn't because of him...well I guess...it was partly because of him.
I'm just stressed out. I feel like I'm constantly walking on eggshells, and in my own house no less.
Im scared to do or touch anything, I can feel him breathing down my neck 24 hours a day almost every damn day.
Weird enough, his awkward consolation did make me feel a little bit better.
Now if only he would kindly leave me the fuck alone.
I sniffed and turned over in my bed, going to flip my lamp off. My eyes caught sight of the little black journal, though, and I noticed it was open.
I slid it closer to me, looking at the page curiously.
"Use this book if you ever need to talk to me"
I tilted my head, furrowing my brows. The red ink slowly disappeared and I sat up just slightly.
I pulled it over, grabbing a pen from my bedside drawer.
Tiredly I scribbled him a message.
"You left my room 10 seconds ago you weirdo"
The ink slowly seeped into the page, and there was only a moment before letters started appearing as he responded.
"You know what I mean."
I rolled my eyes.
I drew a dick on the page and smugly smiled as it soaked into the paper.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU." are the words that quickly followed.
I started cackling and shut the journal. I flipped my lamp off, laying down as little giggles rolled through me.
Momentarily I forgot about the stress and in that moment it almost seemed like I was speaking to a friend.
Could I even become friends with him? Morally, would that be okay for me to do?
No.
The answer is no.
But I also can't just be at his throat all the time...I sighed and snuggled into my blankets.
I'll think about it in the morning.
**
My eyes snapped open, my breathing ragged.
Where am I?
I looked around, my eyes darting back and forth. It looked to be some sort of cellar, it was dark and damp.
The concrete seemed to be stained, but it was too dark to tell with what. The smell was rancid, and I gagged, covering my nose and mouth.
Suddenly a door slammed open, and I jumped, turning towards the noise.
My butt scraped against the concrete as I retreated away from whoever was coming in. My eyes widened when a light flickered to life and around me was revealed to be some sort of...
Torture chamber.
My mind went back to that dream I had of Alastor on my first night and I gasped when he came into view.
His soft humming was off putting in this situation. He had...a body...slung over his shoulder as if it were some normal game kill.
I watched in horror as he threw the body down onto a metal table, and then my eyes widened even further when the person was still alive.
"P-please fella—I-I got family I—"
"Shhhh shh shh..."
Alastor bent over the bleeding man, his smile wide and eyelids lowered. The man was severely injured, and his body was trembling.
My body was trembling.
"My friend, we all have family," Alastor hummed out, "but don't worry, you will see them again..."
The man was crying at this point, blood pooling all around him and dripping off the metal table. Alastor grabbed a few objects.
What looked to be a knife and pliers.
My breath trembled. I couldn't look away, it's like a car crash.
I flinched at the sick wet noise it made when Alastor slowly slid the knife into the man's side. His smile widened and the look on his eyes quickly turned sadistic.
I shut my eyes the moment a strangled scream left the poor man's mouth, quickly turning to a gurgle.
Alastor started laughing like a mad man, and I could hear the sound of flesh tearing as he stabbed the man over and over. With each noise I shrunk further and further into myself.
Finally it all stopped. There were soft footsteps, and I didn't even realize the tears running down my cheeks or that my hands had gone over my ears.
I slowly removed them, my hands trembling. My eyes opened up and widened, my breath catching in the back of my throat.
Right now I was looking directly at a pair of blood drenched dress shoes, standing right in front of me.
"Ma cherie," came his soft voice above me, "how did you get down here?"
So this dream is different...he can see me.
Oh no.
He can see me.
Slowly, slowly I turned my head up, up, up.
Up his legs, and up his torso, straight up into his brown eyes that were looking directly at me.
My body pressed further against the corner I'd curled up in, and I was shaking so badly I was surprised I could even hold myself up.
I couldn't stop the hot tears falling from my eyes, watching in complete dismay as he slowly knelt down in front of me, confirming that he could indeed see me.
He reached forward, and my head jerked to the side, eyes shutting tightly.
But nothing ever came...
I opened my eyes slowly, and watched as he reached to the spot directly next to me, and my gaze followed his hand. My eyes widened when there was a tiny kitten, trembling with me in this corner.
He picked it up, standing back up to his full height and observing it.
So he can't see me...
My trembling lessened and my tears stopped. My body partially relaxed as I watched him look over the very small kitten.
I tilted my head when he started humming and his smile widened at the small creature.
It was crying softly, the tiny meows echoing through the musty torture chamber.
"Petite cherie, don't cry...now, then, you're alright I promise," he hummed out, and I watched in horror as he took it over to the table, grabbing a knife along the way.
My mouth hung open and my lips trembled, my voice leaving me before I could stop it.
"Don't!" I cried out.
He didn't hear me.
He sat the kitten onto the table next to the remains, and lifted the knife.
I closed my eyes tightly, hearing that wet sound once more.
But my eyes shot open at his next words.
"There, cher, you must be hungry..."
I looked over and he was giving the little kitten tiny pieces of this man's corpse.
He had a big smile on his face and his eyes had a shine in them as he watched the baby eat.
I blinked and barely had any time to feel confused over what just happened before I felt as if I were falling.
**
I gasped and sat up, my face feeing a bit wet from tears I'm assuming.
I quickly wiped my cheeks, furrowing my brows.
That felt too real.
Why would I dream of such a specific scenario...but more importantly...if I am seeing his past, why? Why is this house showing me its past?
Im not even fully sure if it's true or false...if what I'm seeing is really him before, or if I'm just making this stuff up.
But I seriously hope it's not the latter.
Because if it is, I am royally screwed in the head.