𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 ✓ | 18+

Chapter Sixteen

Isabella

The first light of morning crept into my room, casting a soft glow on the walls. I lay in bed, my body aching from the restless night, my mind consumed by thoughts of him. I tried to push them away, to focus on the new day ahead, but they lingered like a dark cloud, refusing to dissipate.

Why me? Why was he hurting me? What did I do to deserve this? The questions echoed in my head, each one a dagger to my already shattered heart. Why didn't anyone love me? Why was I so worthless? The cruel words of others echoed in my mind, blending with his venomous taunts.

I finally forced myself out of bed, the weight of exhaustion heavy on my shoulders. I stumbled through my morning routine, the familiar tasks feeling foreign and distant. As I stood in front of the mirror, I couldn't help but feel like a stranger in my own skin, like the person looking back at me was someone I used to know, but no longer recognized.

The day stretched out before me, a vast expanse of time to fill with nothing but emptiness and longing. I tried to distract myself, to find some semblance of normalcy in the routine of daily life, but his presence lingered like a shadow, tainting everything it touched.

As the day wore on, I found myself counting down the hours until Emily returned home. She had been my rock through all of this, the one person I could truly rely on. But as much as I longed to see her, a part of me dreaded her arrival, knowing that I would have to face her, to confront the truth of what had been happening to me.

Finally, the moment arrived, and I heard the sound of the front door opening. Emily's voice echoed through the apartment, calling out to me. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what was to come.

She found me sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. She rushed over to me, concern etched on her face. "Isa, babe, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a Likho."

I forced a smile, trying to brush off her concern. "I'm fine, Em. Just a rough night, that's all."

But she wasn't convinced. She sat down beside me, taking my hand in hers. "Isa, you can tell me anything? I'm here for you, no matter what." I wished I could.

I felt a lump form in my throat, the words I wanted to say stuck on my tongue. How could I tell her the truth, that I was being tormented by a man who delighted in my pain, a man who haunted my every thought and dream? Why did I still feel for him?

Instead, I changed the subject, asking her about her night out. She launched into a lively retelling of her adventures, her enthusiasm infectious. I tried to focus on her words, to lose myself in the warmth of her presence, but he was always there, lurking in the shadows of my mind.

As the evening wore on, I found myself growing more distant, more withdrawn. Emily noticed, of course, but she didn't press me. She knew me too well, knew that I needed time to process things in my own way.

Eventually, Emily headed off to her room, and shortly after, I heard the shower running. I was left alone with my thoughts, the silence of the apartment pressing in on me like a weight. In the darkness, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of longing, a yearning for something elusive, something I couldn't quite name.

And then, as if on cue, he was there, his presence filling the room like a noxious gas. I tried to push him away, to banish him from my mind, but he was always there, a constant reminder of the darkness that lurked within me.

In that moment, I found myself justifying his actions, rationalizing his cruelty. Maybe he was right, maybe I did deserve this. Maybe I was just as broken and twisted as he was.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts that threatened to consume me. But deep down, I knew that he had already won, that he had already broken me in ways I couldn't even begin to understand.

I curled up on the couch, tears streaming down my face, the echoes of his laughter ringing in my ears. And in that moment, I realized that I was truly alone, trapped in a nightmare of my own making, with no hope of escape.

The room was silent, save for the sound of my ragged sobs filling the air. I sat on the couch, hugging my knees to my chest. Each breath was a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the agony I was enduring.

My phone buzzed, breaking the eerie silence. I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat when I saw the message from him.

Unknown number: Meet me at the Hilton park at midnight, if you don't come I'll make sure you regret it.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized it was him, Ghostface, threatening me once again. I felt a surge of fear and anger, but deep down, I knew I had no choice but to obey.

Midnight came all too soon, and I found myself standing alone in the park, the darkness pressing in around me. I heard footsteps approaching, and before I could react, he was there, standing before me, his mask hiding his features but not his malice. Then he started approaching me, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night.

Without a word, he grabbed me roughly by the arm and pushed me to the ground.

"You're pathetic," he sneered, his voice filled with contempt. "You actually thought I cared about you? You're nothing to me, just a plaything, a toy to be discarded when I'm done with you."

Tears streamed down my face, my body shaking with sobs. "Please," I begged, my voice barely a whisper. "Just kill me...please! I can't take this anymore, just kill me and be done with it." I sobbed. He froze. Not saying a word, just... frozen. But why?

"I... I'm sorr-" He started, but then stopped abruptly, the words dying on his lips. Was it regret that I heard his voice? Or something else entirely? Guilt?

I looked up at him, my vision blurred by tears. "Why?" I whispered, my voice barely a breath. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He kneeled down beside me. "Because you make me feel things I shouldn't feel," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "Because you remind me of everything I hate about myself."

I tried to process his words, to make sense of the turmoil raging inside him. But before I could respond, he grabbed me roughly by the arm and pulled me to my feet.

"You're nothing to me," he snarled, his tone harsh and unforgiving. "Just a weak, pathetic little girl who's too scared to face the truth."

He walked away without a glance back, leaving me standing there, shattered and defeated. Tears streamed down my face as I watched his figure recede, a deep sense of emptiness engulfing me. Without a word, I turned and hurried home, my heart heavy with sorrow.