A Night To Taste

Chapter 31: Katerine

I have been keeping this routine for over a week.

Its becoming my habit to go to the club and meet Zayn. He sends me dresses and jewelry and lots of things I don't know name of. I can't tell the number of times he makes me come every time. Sometimes even after lots of sex he opts for a round two. Or sometimes three. Jeez. What the fuck is this guy made of? Where does he get that energy? Not that I am complaining.

But since then, I have been visiting the club religiously. Not to mention he sometimes breaks into my house and surprises me. But there is one problem.

He never shows me his face. He always insist to keep myself blindfolded. And he speaks very little. The only words come from his mouth are- sleep, come, suck, swallow, on knees, on fours, fuck, and some praises. His vocabulary is limited. We will work upon that too later.

Suddenly my phone rings and I pick the call.

"Hello. Katerine here. Who is this?"

No answer.

"Hello? Are you there? Who is this?" I ask again in case there is an connection problem.

Still no answer.

"Hello-"

My heart nearly jumps when I realize it could be from him. He never had any connection with me on phone. I don't have his IG, phone number or anything. But it could be from him.

"Hello. Zayn? Is this you? Oh my god, tell me!" I nearly jump from my seat waiting for the answer.

No voice comes. Okay. This could be a wrong number and will probably think of me as a crazy person for shouting so loud on phone.

I wait for the person to answer. Its a connectivity issue, I guess. I lift my finger to hang up-

"Found her." A low whisper comes from the other side and I throw the phone away with shaky hands. The calls cuts the next second.

What the fuck! Who was this? I nearly tremble- no- I actually tremble so hard that I can't even stand. I- I- What am I going to do?

I rush to the floor to pick up the phone and dial the number again. It rings several times before cutting off.

I dial another three to four times but no one picks it up. I throw the phone on the floor as anger bubbles in my veins. Oh my fucking Jesus Christ. What the hell was this? And what did they mean by found her?

A possible scenario comes to my mind and I shiver with fear. I agree, if someone corners me in a dark alleyway or any library then I can defend myself pretty good. But if it is a well-planned fucked up shit by more than one then I am afraid I need someone to find my dead body for the grave. Otherwise they would have to say bye to me without my body.

And this call surely sounded like that 'well-planned shit.' And what are the chances of me surviving a kidnapping by some fucked up psychos who are into cannibalism? Probably zero.

And I definitely need someone to either help me or find my body. The latter sounds like the more possible option. Fuck.

I create a list of all the people I can seek help from in this case in my mind. And the first one which comes to my head is...

Zayn. He was able to break into my room. He was able to be in the mirror which sounds paranormal to me- I am going to have a word with him about it- and maybe it was him who kind of 'deleted my memory or some shit.'

If I know any person who could do this than it is either Zayn or...? I can't think of someone else. I run my hands in my hair messing them up as I scream to get some idea of whom can I get help from.