𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 ✓ | 18+

Chapter Ten

Isabella

Since the night of that party, I can't shake this feeling of unease. His presence hangs over me like a dark cloud, his messages a constant reminder of the danger I'm in.

One evening, as I was studying in my room, my phone buzzed with a new message from an unknown number. My heart skipped a beat as I read the words on the screen.

Unknown number: Meet me at the abandoned warehouse on Elm Street. Come alone. don't try anything stupid  or anything else.

My hands trembled as I read the message. I knew it was Ghostface, and I knew that ignoring his demands was not an option. I knew I had no choice but to obey his command. If I didn't, he could do God knows what to me or my family. With a sense of dread, I grabbed my coat and headed out into the night.

As I entered into the dimly lit warehouse, I felt a wave of fear wash over me. The place was eerie and desolate, with shadows lurking in every corner. I could hear my own ragged breaths echoing in the silence, and I wished I had never come here.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to show up," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "I was starting to think you were too much of a coward to face me."

I tried to muster up some courage, but his presence was overwhelming. "What do you want from me?" I demanded, my voice trembling.

Ghostface chuckled darkly. "Oh, just a little chat, dog," he replied, his tone mocking. "I thought we could have a heart-to-heart about how worthless and insignificant you are."

Dog? He sees me as a pet he could just play with?!

"Why are you doing this to me?" I pleaded, my voice breaking.

His laughter echoed through the warehouse, sending chills down my spine. "Why?" he mocked. "Because it's fun, of course! Watching you squirm and cry is the highlight of my day."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I struggled to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Ghostface's words cut through me like a knife.

"You're nothing but a coward hiding behind a mask," I spat, my voice trembling with anger and defiance. "You're the real pathetic one here, tormenting people just to feel powerful."

His laughter echoed in the empty warehouse, a cruel sound that sent chills down my spine. "You think you can talk to me like that?" he sneered, his voice filled with contempt. "You're nothing but a weak little girl, crying over her dead mommy."

His words stung, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down completely. I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand, my anger fueling my resolve.

"You don't know anything about me," I said, my voice steadier now. "You don't know what I've been through, what I've survived."

He stepped closer, his masked face inches from mine. "I know more than you think," he said, his voice low and menacing. "I know all about your pathetic little life, your deadbeat father, your worthless existence."

His words cut deep, reopening wounds that had never fully healed. I felt a surge of anger and despair rising within me, but I refused to let him see my weakness.

"You're just a bully," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "A coward who gets off on hurting people."

He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. "And you're just a pathetic little girl who can't even stand up for herself," he said, his voice dripping with contempt.

I tried to stay strong, to not let him see how much his words were hurting me, but it was impossible. The tears streamed down my face, and I felt a deep sense of shame and humiliation.

I wanted to lash out at him, to make him pay for the pain he was causing me. But I knew that would only make things worse. So I stood there, silently enduring his cruel words, praying that it would all be over soon.