NO REASON

chapter 10: Truth or Lies

Black... that was all I could remember. I woke up in a strange room, my head ringing, with a huge gap in my memory. The room was small and dingy, men's clothes scattered on the floor. I was in a stranger's room. I began to panic, but just then, the door flew open and a familiar figure walked in. It was Abel. He had a worried look on his face as he approached me. He reached out to touch me, but I quickly shifted under the blanket. Although my memory was hazy, fragments from last night lingered.

"Where am I?" I asked cautiously.

"You're in my room," Abel replied.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, still wary of him. But his next words made me question my entire reality.

"I found you passed out in front of the café. You wouldn't wake up no matter how much I tried," he said.

A shiver ran down my spine, fear ran through my body as I stared at him in disbelief. "What... what do you mean?" I stammered.

Abel leaned against the cupboard next to the bed, his expression serious. "I tried calling someone to help you, maybe a friend. But when I checked your phone... you only had 6 contacts. None saved as 'friend.' "

His words hung in the air. I didn't know whether to believe him or not. The memory of the older man tied up, the tools, Abel's cold demeanor-they all came rushing back in  flashes.

"What happened last night?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Abel's eyes softened slightly. "You were drinking heavily. When I saw you passed out, I couldn't just leave you there. I brought you here to make sure you were safe."

I wanted to believe him, but the chilling scene from last night seemed all too real.
"And the man?" I asked, trying to piece together my broken memories.

"What man?" Abel's brow furrowed in confusion.

"The older man, in the alley..." I trailed off, unsure if I was making any sense.

"You must have been imagining things, Monique," Abel said, his voice steady. "You were very drunk. There was no older man."

I started to question my memories. Had I really been so drunk that I couldn't distinguish reality from imagination? Was everything I remembered just a figment of my imagination? Was I losing my grip on reality? I glanced at my feet to check if they were dirty from walking in the alley way barefoot... nothing, they were clean...too clean. Before I could delve deeper into my thoughts, Abel interrupted.

"I made some chicken soup to help with your hangover," he said, offering a warm smile. That smile-the one I had grown to love-looked so genuine and comforting. It was hard to reconcile this sweet, caring man with the sinister figure from my memories. There was no way it could be the same person.

With Abel's help, I slowly rose from the bed, my head still pounding. We walked towards the kitchen, and I was struck by how different it was from his room. The kitchen was spotless and filled with a sweet, comforting aroma. This felt more like the Abel I knew.

He pulled out a chair for me, and I settled down as he served me a steaming bowl of chicken soup. The smell was heavenly, and the first taste reminded me of home.

"Can I watch something on your TV while I eat?" I asked. Usually, I loved to watch my morning shows while eating, but work had kept me too busy to do so often.

"Sure, go ahead," Abel replied.

I started surfing the channels and noticed he only had ten available, mostly news channels and a couple of free advertising channels. I settled on the local news and weather channel, feeling a sense of normalcy as I took another spoonful of the delicious soup.

Suddenly, the weather channel was interrupted by breaking news. The screen shifted to a female anchor, her expression grave as she began to speak.

"We interrupt this program with breaking news. A shocking and gruesome discovery has been made this morning. Authorities have found the body of a man brutally murdered and left on the doorstep of his family home. The victim, identified as Bourgeois Monte, was discovered with multiple severe injuries. His hands and feet were bound, and he appeared to have been tortured before his death."

My heart pounded as I listened, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

"The victim was left with a photo album depicting him with multiple partners, suggesting a motive rooted in personal vendettas or illicit activities. The images were explicit and disturbing, clearly intended to humiliate the victim posthumously. Police are currently investigating the scene and urging anyone with information to come forward."

As the gruesome details continued to spill from the news anchor's lips, I felt a chill run down my spine. The description of the torture and the cruel display of the victim's private life felt eerily similar to the fragmented memories I had from the previous night.

Abel, standing nearby, seemed unfazed, but his eyes flickered with a brief, unreadable emotion. My mind raced. Was it possible that my drunken hallucinations had been a terrifying reality?

I glanced at Abel, my heart pounding in my chest, but his expression was as serene as ever.

"Poor man... He had a family too, who could do such a thing?" Abel's concern was visible. His furrowed brow mirrored the distress I felt bubbling within me.

My head, which I thought was beginning to clear, was now throbbed with renewed intensity. Who could do such a thing? Was he serious? Am I going crazy?

But there was no mistaking it-this was the man I had seen last night. But why couldn't I remember anything more from that evening?...

My phone, I remembered fumbling with it, snapping random shots of my surroundings. With a quick glance at Abel, who was engrossed in the news, I checked my gallery, only to find the photos missing. Not in the bin, not anywhere. All gone.

Goosebumps erupted on my skin as I looked up at Abel, he now staring at me with an unsettling intensity. My heart raced, and I flinched as he reached out to touch my forehead.

"Looks like you're coming down with something. Your temperature is a bit high, your face is flushed, and you're jumpy," he observed, his tone tinged with genuine concern.

"I-I'm fine," I stammered, my mind racing to concoct an excuse. "I'm just worried because... I'm late for work."

"Work? I thought you were suspended?" Abel's words sent cold sweat rushing down my back. How did he know about my suspension? I never told him anything like that.

"Who told you that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Abel cocked his head to the side, a curious gleam in his eyes. "You don't know you talk in your sleep? You mentioned it while you slept."

My blood turned to ice as I searched Abel's eyes for any hint of lies, but found none. His gaze was steady, his expression open and inviting.

"Since you don't have work, why don't you hang out with me? I have some fun activities we could do," he suggested with his usual warm smile.

"A-actually... I have to go visit my family. I've been planning to visit them ever since, but work kept me. So now's my chance," I replied, my voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

Abel's smile faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowed in suspicion before quickly masking his reaction. "Oh, it can't be helped then. When are you leaving?"

"Today," I answered hastily. "I'm taking the evening bus to my hometown."

Abel nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll see you when you get back. Let's keep in touch through text," he suggested, pulling me into a hug goodbye.

I returned the embrace, forcing a warm smile despite the chaos swirling inside me. As soon as Abel released me and I stepped out of his sight, I made a beeline for the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest.

Once on the street, I veered sharply to the side of the building and emptied the contents of my stomach, a mixture of fear and revulsion churning within me.

Gathering myself, I straightened up and took a deep breath, determined to put as much distance between myself and Abel as possible. With a quick glance back at the building, I set off down the street, his gaze still lingering in the back of my mind.