𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗪𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲

And Then There Were, Four⁰⁴

four, the manipulator

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

...

Sitting in that car was absolutely terrifying, to say the least.

Levi comforted you by sitting in the passenger seat and leaving his door open. You weren't meant to go anywhere, only sit and hold the wheel.

Doing so made something weird jolt up your arms, but you tried to swallow it down and sit there for a few minutes. Just sit. But the memories had you nearly trembling in your seat. You had glanced at Levi a few times, but he would only look back at you.

Honestly, it helped you stay in reality. Helped you realize you weren't moving, that nothing was going to happen.

Luckily, that didn't last long, and the therapy session ended with mental exercises you were familiar with and a few new ones.

It's been quite a few hours since then, and now you were standing at the bottom of your stairs glaring at them. It's been oddly quiet all day. You haven't heard any creaks or groans from your floorboards or anything that would make you question your sanity.

Your picture hasn't moved since the last time you sat it on your nightstand. The only thing about today was the note you found in your drawer. And then there was last night.

When you swore you heard someone whisper to you, and then you woke up to nobody there. You stayed awake for about an hour or two after that, and within the first few minutes, you heard the soft click of your front door shutting. Almost as soon as you heard it, you jumped up and peeked outside your bedroom door.

It was quiet, so you tiptoed to your kitchen and grabbed the biggest kitchen knife, bolting back up the stairs and barreling into your room. You hoped you hadn't awakened Jean, but really, all you could think about was what if you had to fight for your life.

Sweat dripped down your forehead, and your breathing was erratic. But eventually, you succumbed to sleep once again.

Now, you hesitantly walk up the stairs and to your room to grab your earphones. Once you quickly retrieved them, you descended the stairs in a not-so-elegant way. You were so stupid.

No, not for being afraid, but because you hadn't thought about the back door during all this. You whipped around the railing of your old staircase and ignored the door to your bathroom, instead looking down what seemed, at that moment, to be a damn corridor leading to your doom.

Down the hall, there was a sectioned-off part of your house where another small living space took place. You hardly came down this far unless you were doing your monthly clean-up, where you straightened up the entire house for a day, maybe two. Except you often neglected this space because, by the time you got down here, you were exhausted.

A big bookcase was built into the walls on each side of the room, but honestly, it was mainly filled with dead plants and old antiques you found while moving into this place. You would put the books you're currently invested in on these shelves if you came down here more often, but you deemed them unworthy of holding your precious books, so you don't.

You decorated the space with chairs and small tables and threw drapes that matched the rest of your house decor on the windows. A big window on each side of the door.

Then, finally, in the middle of it all was the door.

It taunted you, the way it seemed to tower over you even from where you stood by the beginning of your stairs' railing.