𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞 જ⁀➴

I

One Year Later

Cassandra

Cassandra's heart churned on her first back to Thornton.

The air always appeared more different when this time of the year approached, as if the weather morphed horrendously to coincide with the morbid temperamental nature of her mind, the crackling sediment of an upcoming thunderstorm, drummed against the sole temples on Cassandra's side. Albeit, this had been nothing but a mere coincidence, but Cassandra had willed her mind to opt to the simple delusions. It was nice when something was about her, no matter how faux it seemed.

Cassandra had barely taken notice upon the steady footsteps that penetrated the bubble of undeniable silence that stilled the room into a crypt of quietness. It was her brother—if he had even been that. Cassandra shuddered in a mutilated combination of self-loathing and a strong desire to rupture her tainted skin into nothing but crimson ribbons. The room was thick and dark with unresolved animosity, the ghosts of past memories lingering around the very room where Cassandra spent most of her time with her older brother. A lump of dread clogged her throat, but now was not the appropriate time to dwell on memories that were soon to fade.

"Are you really that vain you had to wake this early in the morning to stare at yourself in the mirror?" Adonis remarked, as he loitered at the dining hall table and stole the served pastry unprecedented.

Cassandra paid him no mind, the same as she had always done this past month and swept a navy headband back through the messy hair that cascaded down her back in silver waves. Cocking her head to the side, Cassandra was almost so adamant that not a single soul would skip their eyes in her direction, if not for the uncontrollable roaming of the human gaze, because her appearance had yet to appear desirable, though once she had been the absolute object of all dreams; her pale face was now haggard, cheekbones so sharp it had made the alignment of her massive green eyes disturbingly apparent. She despised the sight of her appearance now.

With a steadying breath, Cassandra tore her apprehensive gaze from the dining hall mirror, when a series of guttural moans placed a halt to her efforts to make it to the delicate banquet. The unperturbed sounds only grew more audacious—intense—and it had not been until Adonis' snort of laughter that she peeled her hearing away. What he had found so amusing, Cassandra did not know, but she would be damned to break the deadlocked silent treatment she offered him since that dreadful night. He was nothing but dead to her now—a pale ghost that haunted the manor with a heavy stillness.

Another passionate moan tore through the painted walls causing Cassandra's face to immediately blanch of all colour.

"How much you wanna bet that's not mother spread open-legged on his desk for him?" The vile profanity that spilled effortlessly from Adonis's tongue made Cassandra seethe. She hated him, yearned nothing more for him to just leave her be. After all that was Adonis' specialty. The loud crunch of his white teeth piercing a red apple jerked her out of her tomb of frustration. "What? Don't tell me you like to turn a blind eye to the cheap hookers father fucks and brings home from downtown—"

"Don't be such a pig." Cassandra snapped, her hands balled tight as she broke the one promise she made to herself.

Adonis took no notice and grinned. "Oh, I'm sorry. The hookers he makes love to, because father's nothing but a gentlemen, right? You know, apart from the odd occasion where he prefers to burn and pummel his kids to near death, he really is amazing, isn't he? I just...I mean I really look up to him, and aspire to become the real family man he is in life, with a heart just as big." God, when Adonis got going there was no point in pretending he would eventually stop.