^ Sky in all of her holy greatness ^
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H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
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18/05/17
Six months and twelve days ago
They've all left. All the people involved in my abduction and captivity. This happened sometimes, but I had never been more ready to escape than in this moment.
I ran up the stone steps, trying not to trip and break my leg before I even began. I knew the code to the door. Crazy, right? Why would I voluntarily decide to keep myself in here if I could get out?
Because I was terrified of not actually making it out.
I jabbed at the buttons, typing in the passcode to unlock the door. It granted me entrance with a beep, and I tugged at the door to get it open.
The mansion was quiet. In a house of this size, it was impossible to hear anything coming unless it was in the next room. But you knew when everyone was gone. It was just obvious. Or maybe I was just frightened.
I tiptoed out of the room, even though no one could've heard me anyway. But I felt like I had to, and I don't know why I was obliged to in the first place—maybe I just had a funny feeling about something.
That's good, right? Being able to sense that something could go wrong? It'd mean that I'd be more aware, and I can decide on escape plans quicker if anyone got back earlier than I anticipated.
Well, I hoped I would do all those things, anyway.
I knew the layout of this house, but only the bottom floor. If I got cornered on the higher levels, I'd just have to follow my instincts.
I made it out into the porch, which was actually just an empty room accompanied by a sofa, empty bottles of alcohol, sleeping bags, cigarettes and guns. Don't ask me why they couldn't just accommodate themselves upstairs.
I was facing the antique mirror, completely ruined by cracks, dust and grime.
I saw something move in the reflection. And it wasn't me.
"Beau, Beau," he tutted at me. I never understood the reason why he could never remember abductees names. I guess he wanted to prove that if you're worth nothing, no one remembers you.
"You shouldn't be out here." His taunts reached me quickly, sending shivers down my spine, even though he was a couple metres behind me.
He took steps forward, "Did you really think that you could escape?" He asked. Seeing my facial expression in the fogged up mirror, he cackled.
He grinned. "That's cute. Really, it is. Does hope run in the family?" He jeered.
I clenched my jaw. "No," I turned round, "but it does run out the door."
I didn't give him a chance to figure out what I meant as I dashed towards the door—the exit.
But it was no use. Because, suddenly, my body lurched to a stop as he grabbed onto my arm, yanking me back. I almost feared that my arm would detach from my body.
I whimpered as he pressed himself against me, my back against his chest. Leaning down so that I felt his breath on my neck—and so that I could smell the reek of alcohol—he whispered a threat.
"Not so fast, Beautiful —I know you."
I struggled against his hold, breaking away only to have him reach out and claw onto my shoulders.
I frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Do you know yourself?" He asked. I shoved him off me as he tried to cup my cheek.
"You're insane." My voice rose, the hysteria and confusion clear in my tone. I managed to get several metres away before I hit the wall again. Literally.
"No. But you are—or, well, you know what they say: 'If not now, later'." He flashed me a menacing grin.
"I've never heard that before." I stuttered. "But when I get out of here, I'll make sure that everyone hears about this." The confidence was an act. I was about to go into cardiac arrest from fear.
"Ah, she makes threats." He smirked, then started clapping. "You're much better than what I thought."
I shook my head. "You disgust me." I spat.
He leaped out, pressing me against the wall. "You intoxicate me." He said, trying to kiss me.
I hit him with my bare hand. "You don't need me to be intoxicated."
He cackled. "Of course, Beau, the humour that only comes out when you're about to die." He ran his index finger down my face. I tried to move away from his touch, but it was everywhere. I couldn't rid it from me.
"Wait," he said abruptly. I froze as he raised a finger. "Didn't you say you were going to get out of here?" He asked, cold humour in his voice. When he saw my expression, he sneered mockingly.
I shook my head. "Just lock me back up. What's the point in gloating?" I asked, my lip trembling.
He shoved me so suddenly that my head smashed against the wall. "Beau, weren't you taught? You've never won until people know that you've won."
"That's a sick belief." I hissed, trying to push him off me.
"No, it isn't." He flashed a deadly smile. "But this is sick." He said, pressing his lips against mine and slipping his hand up my shirt.
I squirmed around in his tough hold. But it was no use.
And then he pulled out a gun.
It clicked. I froze in my place.
"Hey, Beauty, do you wanna play a game?" He asked, mouth against my ear as he held my throat, his hold tightening by the second.
"See, these are the rules: you stay perfectly still, and if you do—you win. You win a fast, and hopefully painless death; a bullet, straight through your head. If you don't stand perfectly still—you lose. You lose your life still, except I'll just shoot you in your stomach and let you bleed out. You need a good night's sleep."
I stayed silent. Trembling, I was trembling. Either way, I was going to die.
I imagined the funeral—wait, there'd be no funeral. Because no one would know.
He was a monster. But he was damn good at a plan. He'd probably bury me below sedimentary rock in the lake outside the mansion.
"It's May, now," he said suddenly, running the tip of the gun down my face. "You're going to die in the season of new life."
And as the cold metal was placed against my temple, it happened.
Everything danced across my vision. Like a kaleidoscope of good memories—happy memories. From Angela and Carter, to talks with the girls at the Academy, to flippant chats with Toby, to Alexi and her persistent care for me. Then, finally, to Jameson.
And then he was there. In front of me. Tears fell from my eyes. But he wiped them away. The gun pressed in to my head further, but he took it away. In that moment, it was just us. He reached out, cupping my face, and he planted a kiss on my forehead.
As always, I was in shock by him. He was everything I wanted. Everything I never could have, and now that I definitely can't have.
Then, he spoke. "Don't let him take your heart." My heart? My heart.
Then I was back in the room. And the gun was still pressed to my head.
I don't want to die.
I smiled.
Someone will die today.
But it will not be me.
"Why do you call me Beau?" I asked.
He frowned, but then grinned. "I'd love to give you an in-depth run-through, but it seems like those were your last words." Whilst he was talking, I discreetly pulled out his knife that was already hanging loose in his belt, thanks to our struggle.
"No," I said, "I have a feeling that those were your last words."
Before he could understand what was about to happen, I put all of my strength into one simple movement.
I stabbed him.
And I didn't feel guilty about it.
Actually, it invigorated me.
And then I realised what I had done.
The fear came back, but I was no longer the victim. I was the monster.
Hey, it's not a crime if the crime never happened?
No, he died in a terrible, terrible fire.
And so did my pain.
Because I found a cigarette lighter, a bottle or two of alcohol, and I set it all on flames.
I watched it all burn for a while, standing by the door, ready to make my valiant escape.
The fire couldn't hide the fact that I had killed that man. Even though no one else would know. But I did; that's the most important thing. Instead of people chewing me up, I will chew myself up.
I unlocked the front door.
Then I heard screams.
They shattered my eardrums, I just didn't know that they would shatter my heart too.
I span around, trying to follow the sound. But it wasn't hard; I just needed to follow the trail of fire.
I didn't no what lay ahead, into that corridor. But the screams already sounded like the wailing of the dead.
No, it wouldn't be true.
I took one step forward, then I was darting around flames, trying to reach the screams.
No matter how much I tried to ignore it, I knew.
There are people in this house.
Besides me.
Besides the abductors.
There are people. People who are perishing in flames.
I pounded across the room, reaching the stairs just in time to see the door fly open. Hands upon hands reached out. Helpless hands.
I had trouble breathing. I stared ahead at the scene, seeing it only as a film, a show, anything that wasn't real.
But they kept screaming, and screaming, and screaming. That's how I knew that it was real.
Despite the scorching temperature, I was frozen in my spot.
I started for the steps, trying to get down, reaching out my arm towards the mass of flailing arms. But I couldn't get to them without perishing too.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I couldn't feel my heart beating. I couldn't save them.
I couldn't save any of them.
I killed them.
I killed them all.
I backtracked, then I ran.
To some, it may seem that I'm escaping a crime scene, but really, I'm trying to escape myself.
I burst through the doors, hearing them smash against the concrete walls as my feet hammered into the ground. I sprinted so fast, fearing that my crimes would catch up to me. I used to run away from the monsters, but now I am the monster.
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Guys quick side note we have 1.6k reads now!!
Thank you so much !!
Welp
Shit then
If the last chapter shocked you, I have no idea how you'll respond to this
We've hit a dark part in the book
-light
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Next update: Wednesday
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CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX SPOILER:
Back to the present, and the effects of spilling the truth have hit Sky hard.
But I can see crystals over the horizon.