Whispers Of Chaos | ✓

| 28. 𝑹𝒖𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒚 𝑹𝒖𝒏

Run boy run! This world is not made for you
Run boy run! They're trying to catch you
~ Run Boy Run, Woodkid

Chapter 28. Run Boy Run

The music continued its haunting melody in the background, a juxtaposition to the storm brewing within her. Despite the enchanting notes that enveloped the room, she was drawn into his silver eyes. They were a pool of moonlight, captivating and demanding her attention like an ethereal force.

"I am using him," she sternly reminded herself,

The moonlit pool of his gaze called-while the stark reality of her calculated motives loomed like a shadowy undertone. The allure of his eyes played in harmony with the dissonance of her intentions.

"Rafael," she whispered.

Guilt clawed at her, an unwelcome intruder in the quiet confines of her thoughts. She knew better than to let herself be entangled in the web of emotions, especially when the specter of loss and revenge loomed over her every move. Her heart pounded in her chest.

She shouldn't have allowed herself to attach to anyone, yet here she was-entangled in the paradox of her emotions. The people around her tended to meet untimely fates, casualties of a vendetta that consumed her every waking moment. Love, or anything resembling it, was a luxury she couldn't afford.

Yet, why did her heart ache so much at the thought of manipulating Rafael? It was a sensation she rarely allowed herself to entertain. Manipulation was her realm; she was the master of it, or at least, that's what she believed.

Her main goal was revenge, an all-consuming fire that fueled her every action. Stupid love, as she labeled it in the recesses of her mind, was a distraction she couldn't afford.

"Don't say anything," he shushed her. Maybe he knew the truth. "I am ready to accept everything."

If only things were that easy. "Listen to me-"

Her words got cut short when the phone rang, a discordant intrusion that shattered the fragile moment.

She moved away from Rafael, her steps quick as she picked up the call. It was Hayate.

"Selena, I need you to listen to me very carefully," his voice reached her, hoarse and trembling. Panic gripped her, and she felt the blood drain from her face. "I met someone, and things are not what they seem. I think I know who is our real abuser."

"Fuck," Hayate cursed under his breath.

"Hayate," she snapped, her voice turning sharp in alarm. The tension in the room thickened, wrapping around them like a suffocating cloak.

The sound of shuffling reached her ears, and a sudden gunshot made her flinch. Fear etched lines on her face as she pressed the phone closer. "What's going on?" she hissed, her voice laced with urgency.

Rafael's eyes narrowed.

"They are here."

Her heart thumped violently. The continuous barrage of gunshots tore through the once serene atmosphere, each explosion sending shockwaves through the air.

The staccato bursts of gunfire were intermingled with Hayate's grunts, his strained breaths audible through the phone. The sounds were not mere echoes.

They were tangible, a visceral symphony that enveloped her senses. The sharp cracks and muffled grunts played out in real-time, creating a harrowing symphony of peril.

"Trust no one," the line went dead.

Word count: 516
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