Runaway - A DEVIL'S NIGHT FANFICTION (PTBR + ENG)

Chapter 24 - Nini

WARNING: Once again I feel obliged to warn you about the triggers in this fanfic. In this chapter there will be some scenes that are really uncomfortable to read.

At the slightest sign that this is too much for you, please stop reading.

Four years ago...

Something was wrong.

All the way, as Evans drove me home, he was silent, although his expression was one of pure hatred, which made me alert.

I had expected him not to lift a finger to help me dismantle my dashboard, let alone put the paintings in his trunk, but this silence was atypical and I soon found myself holding the hem of my skirt to dry my sweaty palms.

When we got home, he didn't say anything either while I was getting my things out of the car and just watched me as I put everything back, taking care to check every detail of the paintings I had borrowed for my presentation because I knew how important they were. However, when I saw him standing at the entrance to the basement, blocking my access to the stairs, I knew he wouldn't let it go.

The problem was that I was already having an episode, so it was either going to be worse than the last few times or it was going to be over very quickly.

"Come into the office, Dominique," he orders as I stand in front of him and beckons me to leave.

That was new. Even so, I felt sick to my stomach and my heart was almost bursting out of my mouth as I walked around nervously wondering why he hadn't even given me time to change my clothes.

The office in the house actually belonged to both him and my mother, but she was used to working standing up and wandering around, so she hardly made use of it.

I'd never used it either, only going in to pick up books or do some quick research and leaving, taking care not to leave anything out of place.

He opens the door for me and I walk over to the chair, sitting down while he crosses the room and sits down in front of me, starting to work on the laptop on the table.

I wait in silence, controlling the volume even of my breathing.

When he turns the screen towards me, I see that there is a video paused, but at first I can't make out anything until Evans presses a key to start it.

In the video, a man is tied to a steel beam by his wrists with a rope and the lighting is poor, and the camera has no stability whatsoever. I know it's not a movie but a recording, probably made on someone's cell phone, and when I see that the man tied up is wearing a police uniform, I stifle a scream when I see his bloodied face and try to get to my feet to run.

"If you dare get up from that chair, I swear I'll tie you to it," Evans spits when he sees me trying to get up.

I sink into the chair and turn my face to the screen again, recognizing my father as the man with his face bloodied and tied to the floor.

"Have you recognized who is being beaten in this video?" Evans asks, as the recording continues. – "Good. Now try to guess who's hitting him too."

I can't quite hear what's being said, but nothing seems to make sense and I just keep blinking my tear-blurred eyes as I hold on to the chair, digging my nails into the leather.

In the video, a man advances against my father and starts punching him in the face and I squirm, closing my eyes for a moment, although I can still hear the moans of pain and suffering that the video exposes, but I'm startled to hear Evans' hand hit the table.