The Tormentors (Prey Series #1)

Liessa

Tick. Tick. Tick. Even in the depths of sleep, I can hear the soft sound of the clock, steady, relentless. I want to open my eyes, but I can't. I'm trapped in the darkness—endless, suffocating.

Then, a sudden crash—thunder splits the air, the sky roars in fury. My heart pounds as the scene shifts. The sea stretches out before me, an endless abyss, swallowing everything in its path. The water rises, cold and merciless, wrapping around me, pulling me under. I can’t breathe. I’m drowning, but I’m not alone. I’m never alone in these dreams.

I toss and turn, limbs caught in the weight of sleep and a whimper escaping my lips. "Please... save..." My voice, weak, hopeless, is swallowed by the deafening silence. Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock echoes.

“No... don’t go...,” I plead, another desperate whimper. Tick. Tick. Tick. And then the sound of the alarm shatters the dream yanking me back to reality. My body trembles, my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might break free from my chest. I glance at my shaking hands, trying to steady my breath.

“It’s just a dream, Liessa,” I whisper, trying to convince myself, though the cold sweat clinging to my skin says otherwise. I reach over, silencing the alarm, the ticking finally fading into silence. I rise from the bed, every movement heavy, like I’m still drowning in that dark sea.

But deep down, I don’t hate these nightmares. They’re a reminder. A reminder of the monster I truly am. I know I deserve this. And worse.

After freshening up, I stand in front of the mirror, undoing my clothes, my hand instinctively reaching for the "K" tattoo on my abdomen. My fingertips trace the delicate lines of the ink, lingering on the remainder of what was lost. For me. A sigh escapes my lips, heavy with memories.

I tear my gaze away, tossing on my clothes hastily dressing myself. One last glance at the tattoo, one last reminder of the shadows that cling to me, my past, Dark past. Then I walk out of the house, shutting the door.

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I step onto the school grounds, and immediately notice the commotion ahead. A crowd, larger than usual, has gathered in the yard. Murmurs and voices ripple through the students. I push my way through, heart pounding in my chest. Then, I hear a sound and look forward.

Up front, I see Brian, Asher, and Tristan towering over a boy on the ground, his face already bruised, his lip split wide open. Brian lunges forward again, landing another punch with brutal precision. My breath catches in my throat. The other two don’t join in—they just stand there, watching like predators.

I glance around, expecting someone, anyone, to step in. But no one does. I spot Richard in the crowd and make my way over, my voice low but urgent. "What the hell is going on? Why are they beating him?"

Richard barely glances at me, his eyes fixed on the brutal scene. "Don’t know. Guess he did something to piss them off."

My frustration rises, simmering in me, "And everyone’s just letting it happen?" I hiss. "Pissed them off or not, this is insane!"

He finally looks at me as if sensing my irritation. "Liessa, it’s just how it is. No one messes with them. You remember what they said that first day? It’s best to stay out of it if you want to avoid trouble."

I bite back a retort because, deep down, I know he’s right. We can’t afford trouble—I can't afford trouble and most importantly I can't grab attention toward myself. But that doesn’t make watching this any easier.

Brian steps back for a moment, shaking out his hand like it’s a casual thing. His knuckles are stained with the other boy’s blood. The crowd stands silent, no one daring to move.