The Masked Killer - A.T Ben Saad || English

Chapter 14: Noah

I stare around the room, feeling a deep sense of confusion. I'm in our house. Damon must have brought me here, but why? My mind reels as I take in the scene before me. Lola is sprawled on the floor, her body wracked with painful coughs that eject thick, dark blood. My heart pounds violently in my chest. I stagger over to her, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

"No, Lola! Please, no!" I cry out, my voice cracking under the weight of terror. I kneel beside her, my hands trembling as I try to soothe her, running my fingers gently along her back. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?" I beg, my voice barely more than a whisper as tears stream down my cheeks.

Levi's voice cuts through the fog of my fear. "Noah—You did this yourself." His words hang heavy in the air, a sickening revelation. He's holding the mask—the mask of the killer. I stare at him in utter disbelief. The world feels like it's spinning out of control.

"What do you mean?" My voice trembles with raw panic. I turn my gaze back to Lola, my heart breaking as she looks up at me, her eyes filled with pain and confusion.

"Don't you get it? You just assaulted and then beat Lola," Levi's voice is cold and accusatory, a knife twisting in my gut.

A chilling wave of realization crashes over me. The anger and loathing inside me boil over. I hate Damon, I hate the fractured pieces of myself, and I loathe that I've inflicted the same horrors on Lola that were once inflicted upon me. My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I feel a burning sensation in my chest.

"I-I... How?" I stammer, my voice barely audible as I stumble closer to Levi. My mind is reeling, unable to comprehend the horror of his words.

"Remember the plan? Lola was supposed to become our slave?" Levi's tone is disturbingly nonchalant, as if we're discussing something mundane rather than the atrocity I've just committed.

The room begins to spin violently. I feel light-headed, my vision narrowing as if I'm staring down a dark tunnel. "Am I—are we?" I manage to choke out, my voice cracking with desperation.

Levi's expression remains unchanged, his eyes devoid of warmth. He nods slowly. The crushing weight of his words threatens to crush me. "Where are Matthew and Henry?" I ask, stepping back, my movements mechanical. The reality of what I've done is too much to bear.

"You took Jaimie and Matthew down, and I made sure Oliver and Henry bled out," Levi says, his tone as cold as the steel in his hand.

The words hit me like a physical blow. My vision blurs, and I stagger backwards, feeling as if the floor is collapsing beneath me. I put a hand to my head, trying to steady myself, but the pain is overwhelming. A sharp, piercing headache seizes me, making it feel like my skull is being crushed.

I collapse to the floor, my body shaking uncontrollably. I can't focus on anything but the blinding pain and the crushing weight of my realization. My heart races, pounding so loudly I can almost hear it in my ears. My breaths come in ragged gasps, each one feeling like a struggle for survival.

As I lie there, the room around me fades in and out of focus. The voices around me become a distant murmur, lost in the fog of my agony.

"Find my psychologist in my contacts and call him! Now!" I scream, my voice filled with frantic urgency. Levi looks at me, his face a mask of confusion. "Now!" I demand again, the helplessness I feel is all-consuming. I am trapped in my own body, a prisoner to the violence within me.

As I writhe on the floor, my senses are overwhelmed by the cacophony of voices around me. They're discussing strategies, arguing about how to manage the situation. I can't focus on their words; I need to take control, to escape this nightmare!

---

I find myself back in the same dark, icy room within my mind. The solitary beam of light at the center of the room is harsh and blinding, its warmth almost mocking against the chill of my surroundings. Around this cruel light stand my other personalities, each one making choices for me, their voices a cacophony of judgment and command. I am left there as an outsider, a passive observer, waiting helplessly for the fate they have chosen for me.

"Damon, you're such a fool for being here!" Mike's voice cuts through the chaos, filled with frustration and anguish. His thin build seems almost funny against the muscular build of Damon. "What? A little fun never hurt anyone," Damon's response is laced with mocking amusement, his Australian accent resonating with cruel indifference. The sound of his knife scraping against the stone is a grating, piercing noise that makes my skin crawl.

"We've already endured so much, and now this?!" Mike's voice rises, raw with desperation. "Why are you doing this?" His voice cracks with a mix of rage and sorrow, as he tries to grasp Damon's twisted motives.

Damon rises slowly, the movement deliberate and unnervingly calm. He approaches Mike with a predatory grace. "Because it's entertaining. It brings me satisfaction to inflict on others the same suffering that has tormented me. Those who have never understood my pain never will," Damon's voice is dark, chilling, and full of malice.

Mike's face turns ashen. "You have no right to call yourself a part of Noah," he says, his voice quavering, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"Oh, no? But I am him, and I'm strong enough to fully take over. Until there's no light left in him," Damon says, his voice dripping with malevolence. He caresses Mike's throat with his knife, the gesture both menacing and intimate.

"Gentlemen, let's remain calm," Chloë's voice cuts through the tension as she enters the room. Her presence is a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. "What are you doing here?" Damon's voice is tinged with irritation, clearly annoyed by his inability to do further harm.

"We need to return to the psychologist. Damon, please take responsibility and think about Noah," Chloë says, her tone soothing and firm. Her diplomatic manner offers me a glimmer of hope, a sense of support amidst the chaos. I've always relied on Chloë to guide me through serious matters. She looks at me with open arms. I want to run to her, to feel her comforting embrace, but I'm restrained by heavy iron chains that bind my hands. They pull me roughly back against the cold, unyielding stone wall.

A jarring pain erupts in the back of my head as it crashes against the cobblestones. Another chain emerges from the wall, wrapping around my neck like a constricting serpent. The cold metal bites into my skin, the pressure making it hard to breathe.

"I—I can't breathe! Chloë! Help me!" I scream, my voice filled with panic. She gazes at me with tears in her eyes, a look of profound sorrow etched on her face. "This is for the best. You can't handle this alone. I'm going to help you," she says softly, her words both comforting and terrifying. I see how Damon steps into the light and I try to break free, but the chains are too strong. "Just go to sleep." Her words are the last thing I hear before everything fades to black, and I drift into a void of unconsciousness.