HAUNTINGLY | 18+

8 | Xavier

After our somewhat decent conversation, Scar proceeded to re-chain my arms, securing them tightly. The cold metal pressed against my skin, a stark reminder of my captivity.

He switched off the lights, and made his way towards the door. Before leaving, he turned to face me, his gaze lingering for a moment before uttering the words, "I'll see you tomorrow."

With those words lingering in the air, the door closed, leaving me in complete darkness once again.

My eyelids grew heavy and fatigue washed over. The events of the day weighed on my mind, and my body craved rest. Surrendering to the exhaustion, I closed my eyes and drifted into a deep, much-needed sleep within seconds.

I walked out of my room upon hearing Jason call my name from the living room. I made my way towards him, wondering what he wanted.

"Yes?" I asked, my tone filled with anticipation as I waited for him to speak.

Jason hesitated for a moment, his expression reflecting a mix of concern and uncertainty.

"My...friend," he finally said, choosing his words carefully, "is coming over tonight. I need you to stay in your room with the door locked. Don't open it unless it's me," he instructed, his voice serious and firm.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his overprotective demeanor. "Oh please, don't start playing the role of the protective big brother," I retorted dismissively.

In an instant, Jason gripped my shoulders and locked his eyes with mine. His seriousness and desperation were palpable.

"This is not a joke, Layla. You don't want to find out what he's capable of," he warned, a hint of fear seeping into his voice. "I'm begging you, please, just listen to me," he pleaded.

His intensity and the genuine concern in his eyes made me reconsider my initial response. Taking a deep breath, I nodded slowly.

"Okay, I'll stay in my room and keep the door locked," I relented, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

Jason nodded in acknowledgement, releasing his grip on my shoulders. "He'll be here in a few minutes. Go," he urged me.

Pausing briefly at the stairway, I looked back at my brother, his troubled expression etched in my mind. With a mix of apprehension and trust, I made my way to my room, ensuring the door was securely locked behind me.

I heard the front door creak open, followed by the heavy thud of it closing shut. Time seemed to stretch as moments turned into minutes, and then I heard the eruption of voices, shouting, and the shattering of glass downstairs.

Against my brother's orders, curiosity got the better of me, and I cautiously cracked open my bedroom door, wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation unfolding below.

"If you don't have my fucking money by the end of the month, I will rip your neck off your body with my own hands. Understand?" a deep, menacing voice boomed.

Fear seeped into Jason's voice as he responded, "I promise I'll have it by then."

A brief silence hung in the air, broken only by the muffled sound of footsteps moving about. The tension in the room was noticeable.

Suddenly, Jason's agonizing cry pierced the air, causing my heart to race.

A chilling chuckle echoed through the house. "By the end of the month," the man emphasized once more, his tone laced with a chilling warning. "The next time I see you, and you don't have my fucking money, will be the day you take your final breath."