Rule 7 : Rage

CHAPTER 1: Eviction Exodus.

ZAYN'S POV

Relentless rain soaked me to the bone, each squelching step echoing in my ears. The air hung heavy with the scent of moist earth and dampness. The chill, a familiar companion from the orphanage, seeped deep into my bones. Raindrops struck my skin like tiny pebbles, the world blurring into a haze of gray and black as the night deepened the prevailing unease.

Street lamps cast an eerie glow on the rain-slicked pavement, raindrops reflecting their light in a surreal, dreamy scene. Mud clung to my clothes, my hair a tangled mess. Wiping grime from my face proved futile, my hands trembling with cold. Each step in the downpour sank my feet deeper into the mire, the weight of soaked clothes dragging me down. Frosty puffs escaped my breath as I tightened my coat, a futile attempt to ward off the relentless chill.

Life had never been easy, and tonight was a harsh reminder. Evicted earlier that evening, I was left with nothing but the clothes on my back and a bag containing a trusty torch, faded orphanage photographs, and a useless key. Stepping out into the storm, the weight of it all pressed down on me. Each raindrop mirrored the pain and loneliness festering within. Lost in thought, I roamed, wondering if I'd ever find light again in this endless darkness.

Hours bled into one another, my feet aching and stomach growling. But giving up wasn't an option. Determination surged, propelling me forward until I stumbled upon an abandoned structure – a glimmer of hope for shelter.

The rain showed no mercy, blurring my surroundings into a watery haze. Only the steady rhythm of raindrops and distant thunder penetrated the dreary downpour. It felt like an alternate reality where survival depended on enduring the storm. Every step was a struggle, the elements battling me with each agonizing moment.

Darkness encased me like a suffocating shroud. I moved blindly, heart pounding with each cautious step. The feeling of being watched intensified as a twig snapped behind me. Startled, I whirled around, only to be met by the same desolate scene – rain, mud, and endless darkness.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself. The eerie feeling lingered, an unseen presence weighing heavily. Another step, and another, each filled with unease. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed behind me, sending a jolt through my body. Slowly turning, heart hammering, I saw nothing but rain, mud, and the same unyielding darkness.

Memories of the orphanage flooded my mind as I plodded on. Enveloped in the unsettling blanket of darkness, now strangely intimate, I found myself steeped in a haunting solitude. There, in the distance, a battered house loomed, shrouded in mystery and barely visible through the rain.

I strained my eyes, the relentless downpour distorting the view. Yet, I could just make out the faint outline of the house against the dark sky. Raindrops struck my skin like tiny stones, their rhythmic beating a constant companion. But amidst the storm, something captivating occurred.

The light from my trusty torch danced upon the raindrops, creating an ethereal glow that seemed to beckon me closer. It sparked both eerie anticipation and an unexplainable sense of mystery. I stood there, time seemingly stretching on, my heart racing with eager anticipation. Yet, as seconds turned into minutes, hope began to fade.

Turning around, I observed my surroundings. The darkness was so widespread that my hand seemed a distant, indistinct shape. Silence surrounded me, a heavy cloak interrupted only by the rhythm of my breath.

A wave of despair washed over me, and I sank to the ground, my back against the unyielding door. My head bowed under the weight of disappointment, its enormity bearing down on me.

Restlessness gnawed at me. I noticed the silhouettes of swaying trees on the ground and the distant hum of flies. The rain had intensified into an unrelenting torrent. Shivering, I longed for refuge. My drenched clothes clung uncomfortably to my skin, and my teeth chattered uncontrollably.

My trusty torch flickered weakly, casting a feeble beam. Frustration surged within me as I began to roam. In the dim light, I spotted a lone doormat on the ground, quite a distance from the entrance.

Shivering, I longed for refuge. My drenched clothes clung uncomfortably, the icy rain stinging my exposed skin. Determined, I shuffled toward a lone doormat, removing my footwear to avoid leaving a wet trail inside.

Suddenly, a soft jingle pierced the silence. My entire body tensed. It was as though I couldn't resist its magnetic pull, inexplicably drawn toward the source of this mysterious sound.

Driven by curiosity, I left my coat on the doormat and cautiously ventured inside, torch held high. The jingle persisted, echoing through the dusty halls. Each creak of the floorboards and groan of the aged house amplified my apprehension. The sound seemed to beckon me deeper, leading me on a path fraught with uncertainty.

Could the sound be something simple, a cruel trick of the wind? But the pull was undeniable, and I followed the persistent jingle deeper into the dusty halls.

The wind howled like a banshee outside, a relentless assault that mirrored the storm festering within me. Every deafening crack of thunder echoed the frantic pounding of my heart. Yet my desire to uncover the source of the jingling sound persisted. It gnawed at the edges of my sanity, a siren song luring me closer.

With a trembling breath, I crouched low, the floorboards groaning in protest. The faint jingle grew clearer, a taunting melody emanating from beneath the threadbare mat. Curiosity, a treacherous beast, wrestled with the tightened in my gut. Ignoring the icy tendrils of dread, I snatched my torch, its beam  piercing the oppressive darkness.

As I peeled back the mat, a choked sigh escaped my lips. The rough carpet was marred by a curious knot, its presence sending a shiver down my spine. My fingers traced its intricate design, a morbid fascination blooming despite the tremor in my hand. The carpet shifted with a sickening lurch, and the jingling erupted into a cacophony of terror.

A sliver of light streamed the gloom, emanating from a narrow hole revealed by the retreating carpet. It cast an eerie glow upon a protruded metal pole, the source of the unnerving jingle. The sound seemed to pulse from the very floorboards themselves, as if the carpet had acted as a mute guardian of a forgotten secret.

Peering into the hole, my breath quickened. A knot, identical to the one on the carpet, was fastened to the pole. What kind of twisted puzzle lay beneath?

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