The Devil's doll

Chapter 14

Cecilia

I wake up with a jolt, gasping for air as though I’ve been suffocating in my sleep. I didnt recognized the room either. Where I am? My lungs burn, each breath sharp and uneven, as if I’ve just surfaced from the deepest part of the ocean. My heart slams against my ribcage, racing wildly, sending waves of panic through my entire body.

I can feel it thudding in my ears, my throat tightening as if the air around me has thinned. Every sense is heightened, the darkness around me feels thick and suffocating. I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate to block out the fragments of fear still clinging to my mind. This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

Images flash behind my closed eyelids, too fast to catch, but one stands out. Did my father really get killed in front of me? Was it real or just a nightmare? The thought sends another sharp pang of terror through my chest. I pull my knees up to my chest and bury my head into them, trying to ground myself, but the shaking won’t stop. My body trembles with a fear that doesn’t feel like it will ever leave me.

“Please… please, God, let it be a nightmare,” I whisper, my voice trembling, barely audible. I clutch my legs tighter, holding myself together as if I could squeeze the fear away, but the panic persists. This isn’t real. It couldn’t have happened. There’s no way.

But the terror doesn’t fade, lingering, pressing down on me like a heavy weight. It’s suffocating, inescapable. I want so badly for someone, anyone, to walk into the room and tell me it was just a bad dream, that everything is fine. I long for the comfort of reality, for reassurance that this isn’t happening, that I can go back to whatever my life was before this nightmare.

A voice shatters the silence, jolting me further out of my panicked haze.

"Did you have a good sleep, doll?"

My blood runs cold. That voice. It slices through the air like a blade, sharp and dangerous. I slowly lift my head and there, in the corner of the room, where he was sitting. His silhouette becomes clearer, the dim light casting an eerie glow over his face. He’s here. Again. The man who’s been haunting my every waking moment and twisting my dreams into nightmares.

I can’t breathe anymore. He gets up from the chair, his movements slow and deliberate as if he enjoys watching me squirm. He crawls onto the bed, inching closer, his gaze never leaving mine. It feels like a predator closing in on its prey.

I swallow hard, trying to shrink away from him, curling up tighter into a ball. My heart races even faster, pounding so loud I’m sure he can hear it. He smiles at me no, smirks a sickening expression that makes my skin crawl. His hand reaches out,  gently brushing lightly against my cheek. His thumb moves in slow, soft strokes, up and down, as though he’s trying to calm me. He never lost his gorgeous smile from his face. But his touch fealt so cold, and it sends a wave of dread through my body. I can’t stop shaking, my body betraying me as I sit frozen, paralyzed by fear.

He must see the fear in my eyes. I know he does. And yet, he seems to revel in it.

"What do you want from me?" My voice cracks, barely above a whisper. I can feel the tears threatening to fall, but I fight them back, refusing to let him see me break. I hate how weak I must seem right now, crumbling under his presence.

"Shhh..." His voice is soft, soothing even, but it only makes me feel worse. He leans in closer, his lips near mine. "Everything is going to be alright. I promise I won't hurt you, princess." He pauses, his breath hot against my skin. "You're mine now."

Those words you're mine now send a chill straight down my spine, deep into my bones. His voice is laced with possession, as if I belong to him, as if I’m nothing more than an object he’s claimed. The realization twists in my stomach, making me feel sick.

I can’t take it anymore. I sit up suddenly, desperate to get away from him, even if there’s nowhere to go."Who are you? What the hell do you want from me?"My voice is louder this time, fueled by both fear and anger.

He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he chuckles—a low, almost amused sound that echoes in the room, mocking me. "You really don't remember me at all? Do you?"

I freeze. Remember him?

A wave of confusion hits me, crashing over the fear, mixing with it until I don’t know what to feel anymore. What is he talking about? I’ve only seen him twice before. Just fleeting glances that left me unsettled. But now, as I look at him, there’s something… familiar. His eyes, his voice, the way he moves it all feels like a distant memory, just out of reach.

I try to piece it together, to make sense of what he’s saying, but my mind is too scrambled. Then, suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, the memory hits me. It’s brief, fragmented, but it’s there. He must saw my face of realization.

That’s where I knew him from.

The room spins around me, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. He isn’t just some stranger. He’s someone from my past someone I had buried deep in my memories. But now, here he is, pulling those forgotten memories back to the surface.

The devil himself.