The night was shrouded in darkness, and the sky was heavy with thick, ominous clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance, shaking the foundations of the earth. Relentless rain fell in sheets, creating a continuous, dissonant symphony on the house's roof.
Autumn sat in her chair, clutching Peaches tightly in her lap. Her fur baby's soft, rhythmic purring provided some comfort, but her heart was far from at ease. Something was missing. Something sinister lurked in the shadows of her mind. Something in her stomach told her that something terrible was about to happen, but she couldn't put a finger on it.
As she absentmindedly flipped through the pages of her book, the surrounding room seemed to come alive. The flickering candlelight cast eerie, dancing shadows on the walls, their movements mirroring the unease in her heart. An unsettling chorus of creaking floorboards and whispering winds accompanied the soft patter of rain against the windows.
Her phone lit up, and she picked it up. Her screen telecasted something, "Ryle Hart, father to the senator Liam Hart and ex-political advisor to the president, found dead in his apartment. " An icy grip tightened around her heart as she read the words, and she knew, without a doubt, that Zyler was the one. Her world had become a living nightmare, and she couldn't escape the feeling that something even darker loomed on the horizon.
As her trembling fingers struggled to hold onto the phone, a brilliant flash of lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the room in an otherworldly glow. In that split second, she saw him. Zyler lurked in the shadows, a figure of evil intent. Like twin voids, his eyes bored into her, sending chills down her spine. Blood and water dripped from his disheveled form.
Another clap of thunder shook the room, plunging it into darkness again. Yet, even in the blackness, she could feel his presence lingering. He had merged with the shadows, a living embodiment of her worst nightmares. The storm outside was nothing compared to the disruption within her soul in this surreal and eerie moment. Autumn carefully placed her dog on the floor, not wanting to wake him. She gripped the chair tightly, her knuckles turning white as she stared at the figure before her. He looked like a demon, an embodiment of all her fears and nightmares.
"Did you?" Her voice quivered as she struggled to form the words. Emotions raged inside her, and finding the right words was impossible. She raised her phone, displaying the news of Ryle's death for Zyler to see. "Did you do this?"
Zyler remained silent; his gaze locked onto her. He looked different this time. It was as though he was intoxicated by something profound and neurologically altering.
He drew her closer, and the overpowering stench of blood assaulted her senses. "Don't," Autumn protested, pushing against his chest with all her strength. "Don't you dare touch me?" She pounded her fists against him, but his grip remained unyielding.
"You are my salvation, Autumn," he whispered, his voice laced with desperation and adoration. The disgusting odor of blood hung in the air. "I killed him," he confessed. "But only because he raped my mother." He admitted his guilt with the vulnerability of a child confessing his misdeeds to his mother.
Autumn couldn't comprehend the weight of his actions. She felt sad for him and, at the same time, terrified that he killed someone. Again. "You killed a powerful person," she muttered, her voice trembling.
"I am a powerful man myself," he replied, his lips pressing against her neck. A moist sensation grazed her skin, and in her disoriented state, she couldn't discern whether it was the lingering trace of blood or his saliva. The lines between reality and nightmare blurred, and Autumn could no longer distinguish them.
Summoning every ounce of her remaining strength, she clenched her fists and pushed him away. A loud clap of thunder resonated through the room, accompanied by a blinding flash of lightning. Zyler's face contorted into a mask of unbridled fury.
YOU ARE READING
Burn Me Right
RomanceAutumn Wraith took a step a 20-year-old shouldn't take. She was naïve for her own ruin. One wrong move, or should we say one wrong article? She writes about him, not knowing her pen was the knife that was going to turn on her. Her life was anchored...