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

Chapter 16: Lola

"Stop!" Levi pleads helplessly, his voice cracking as he coughs up blood. The red droplets splatter across the floor, a grim testament to his suffering. My heart pounds furiously in my chest, a drumbeat of fear and desperation. What can I do? They're distracted now... I could try to escape, dart to the nearest police station, and maybe, just maybe, find a sliver of safety. The thought flashes through my mind like a fleeting beacon of hope, but I push it aside, overwhelmed by the urgency of the moment.

I scramble to my feet, my legs trembling as I make a frantic dash toward the front door. The cold metal of the doorknob feels like ice against my fingertips, a stark contrast to the warmth of my racing pulse. As I grip the knob, I suddenly feel a bloodied hand resting on top of mine. Panic surges through me like a tidal wave as I look up, my breath catching in my throat.

Noah's eyes, dark and unyielding, lock onto mine with a malevolent intensity. They seem to bore into my very soul, making me shiver despite the sweat dripping down my back. I take a stumbling step backward, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Noah—please—I—" I stammer, my voice barely more than a whisper, laden with fear and desperation. He closes the distance between us with chilling calm, each step deliberate and menacing. I retreat further, my back pressed against the cold, unyielding wall. Levi continues to choke on his own blood, his suffering a haunting symphony of pain.

Noah takes another ominous step forward, his presence a suffocating weight. The wall feels like it's closing in on me, its harsh surface digging into my back as I struggle to breathe.

"Stop it, Noah!" I beg, my voice trembling with raw terror. "I don't know what's happening to you, but spare me! I beg you!"

The last bit of space between us evaporates, leaving me no room to escape. His eyes, once cold and unfeeling, now glisten with an unsettling emotion. He leans in close, his breath hot and heavy against my ear. "I've spared you long enough. You're the last one," he whispers, his grin twisted into a sickening expression of triumph.

"You're sick," I manage to say, my voice quivering with disgust and disbelief. The reality of his true nature feels like a brutal shock, an icy slap in the face. Nothing seems certain anymore. Everything feels surreal, a twisted reflection of what I believed to be true.

"True, I am sick," Noah admits, his entire demeanor shifting as tears begin to form in his eyes. His voice cracks, and the facade of his unfeeling rage seems to crumble.

"What?" I stammer, staring at him in bewildered disbelief. My mind struggles to grasp the shifting landscape of his emotions.

"I—I'm sick," he repeats, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. My breath catches, paralyzed with fear that he might have a weapon hidden, ready to strike. The warmth of his embrace is suffocating, and the thought that it could turn fatal is almost too much to bear. But, to my shock, he bursts into tears, his sobs shaking his entire body. His warm tears wet my neck, and his bloodied hands leave smears on my white sweater.

What is happening to him?

"He raped me, and everyone knew it!" he shouts, his voice breaking with anguish. The accusation hangs heavy in the air, an unbearable weight.

"What? Who did that? Noah, what are you talking about?" I stammer, my mind reeling with confusion and horror.

"Our soccer coach. He damaged me," Noah spits out, gripping my sweater with desperate intensity. My heart drops as disbelief grips me. The coach? No, that can't be true. He was the kindest man I ever knew, a role model for us all.

"Noah, are you saying my father raped you?" My voice trembles uncontrollably. The ground beneath me seems to shift, and my world threatens to collapse into chaos.

"Yes, and not just a little," Noah says, his voice trembling as he speaks. My world comes to a halt, the gravity of his words crashing down on me.

"Noah, you're confused," I stammer, desperately clinging to the hope that this is just another one of his lies. His head and hands tremble violently, as if he's caught in a spasm of rage and sorrow.

"True, I am confused by what your daddy did to me," he says, his accent slipping through the cracks of his anguish. Noah seems to transform once more, his rage and pain manifesting in his twisted, beastly demeanor.

"And that's why I'll give him his karma through you." His final words pierce my soul like a dagger. The revelation that I have been deceived my entire life is devastating enough, but to learn that I must now suffer for his actions is almost unbearable. Doubt gnaws at me; I question whether to believe Noah's twisted narrative. Everything feels like a grotesque illusion, a double-sided mirror where reality is distorted. Has this all been part of Noah's plan? All the romantic gestures, the warm hugs, the loving glances—was it all a facade?

Noah strides over to Levi and grabs a knife from the nearby table. Levi, still struggling and coughing up blood, attempts to reclaim the weapon, but Noah responds with a powerful kick to Levi's face. The force is so brutal that Levi's neck snaps with a sickening crack. He falls backward, his body twisting grotesquely. His head turns one hundred and eighty degrees in a matter of seconds, the skin on his neck tearing in a ghastly manner.

I cover my mouth with my hands, my eyes wide with horror. Is he... dead? My heart lodges in my throat, and I feel a wave of nausea washing over me. This must be a nightmare. It can't be Noah. I shake my head violently, desperately trying to wake from this hellish vision, but when I feel Noah's iron grip on my upper arm, the crushing reality sinks in. This is not a nightmare. It is real, and I am the victim.