Truly Madly Ghostly

Chapter Thirty-three: Beliefs Broken

When Ian was seven years old, he caught the flu and was laid up for a fortnight. Whatever he ate he would vomit in a minute or so. A sharp, constant pain had a death grip on his head. His brain felt light. Using the brain to think even the simplest thing felt like the most arduous thing on the planet. Confusion marred his consciousness. 

It was almost the exact state he was going through now. 

Except he was not laid up with care on any soft bed. Ned's violent battering had made him end up on his side on the hard floor—still tied up to the chair and all. And not the flu, but a madman was behind this condition of his. 

Now, this line of thought made him compare and contrast between a flu virus and Ned. Ian figured his brain had taken this task pretty seriously. In fact, a lucid dream broke open behind his half-closed, fluttering eyelids. 

A horrible kick to his stomach brought him back.

Ian realized his groan of pain had turned into a helpless, shameful scream. To his own ear, it sounded like an animal crying right before getting slaughtered. The voluntary retraction of his body brought more pain to his left arm. By the amount of pain, it felt like the arm was broken or something. And why wouldn't it be? His hands were still tied behind the backrest of the chair during the fall.

Ian bit his lip to contain more screams from rippling out of his chest. His own teeth drew blood from his lip and the salty taste of it made him want to vomit.

Ned's cruel and constant laughter reverberated across the walls.

Drool dripped out the side of Ian's gaped mouth. He could feel it in his bones—Ned would deliver his final blow any moment.

"Ned," Ian called.

"Yes, son of b**ch..." Ned replied to him with vulgar name-calling.

When Ned was done with his profanities, Ian tried, "Let me go. I won't tell anyone what happened. You won't even be taken back into the hospital." Of course, it was a lie, but Ian must tell it to save himself.

But in vain.

Ned didn't fall for it. "You think you can fool me! Your betrayal equals the acts of Satan, you motherf**ker—"

"And you are following the commandments by blaring these profanities!" It was a wrong move by Ian, he knew long before he finished speaking. But what could he do?

Even the smartest psychiatrists would fall out of their mastery by being pushed to the brink of death so mercilessly.

Ned's mind and body seemed to catch fire hearing Ian.

This night would end in death, indeed. As though all the lifeless things around them had become restless by this knowledge, they started to act strangely. A flurry of bizarre kick-started.

The room lights started flickering, a couple of times in the first few seconds and then consistently.

Careless about the surroundings, with an enraged grunt and a monstrous bellow, Ned was about to charge at Ian.

However, shockingly, the noise of a door slamming open caught Ned's attention, making him halt midway. He swung his face toward the door.

"Who is it?" Ned's confused tone rang roughly.

Surprise and relief filled Ian. He had almost accepted his fate tonight.

Was it the cops?

Had they found him somehow?

Regaining the hope of getting saved, Ian's body went taut and his eyes glistened.

Nevertheless, his brows furrowed the next second when he heard Ned scream in fright. Still sprawled on the floor, Ian glanced sideways and saw Ned staring wide-eyed at the door.