Descend into Darkness (BOOK 1)

| 12 | Into Darkness

*Warning: This chapter contains coarse language, violent depictions, and gore. Read at your own discretion*

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I spun around in a state of panic, only for Carden to knock the gun from my hand with a single swift motion. It skidded across the floor, and I instinctively dove to retrieve it. A rough hand caught my wrist and twisted me back to face him.

   Carden forced me to meet his empty gaze, then grasped me by the throat and hurled me into the row of cubicles. I cried out as I collided with the walls and desks; stationery cascaded to the floor; my body trembled with pain before going numb. How could Marquis ever think I stood a chance?

   I stared up at the mould-streaked ceiling, my hair splayed across my face. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The whole situation seemed hopeless.

   Dark laughter reverberated through the office. I pictured him standing there, grinning wickedly, so satisfied with his absolute control. Even though he was just a shadow, he possessed Carden's personality, and it infuriated me as much as the real Carden would have.

   Gritting my teeth, I forced myself up from the floor. A horrible sensation surged within me. He was breaking me, both mentally and physically.

   "You'd better fight back," Marquis called out from across the room. "It won't be long before he kills you."

   He was right. I was there for a reason. I needed to survive. I swept my gaze across the room and spotted the gun nestled in a shadowy crevice near the window. The only way to retrieve it was to advance towards him—dangerous, but better than nothing. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself.

   I launched forward, catching Carden off-guard for just a moment. My heart pounded as the world blurred around me. I snatched the gun and, stumbling, aimed it up at the shadow. 

   With a firm grip, I pulled the trigger, shooting him three times in the chest. Carden staggered back, gazing at the holes in his shadowy form. He crumpled to his knees and dissolved like smoke.

   I collapsed to the ground, panting, clutching the gun in both hands. I couldn't believe it—I was alive.

   "Well done," Marquis said. "But we need to work on a few things."

   The gun vanished just as Carden had. I looked up at Marquis' outstretched hand and allowed him to help me to my feet. My legs wobbled; I winced at the throbbing pain in my ankle and leaned on his shoulder for support.

   "Can't you just carry me on your back like a sack of potatoes?" I inquired.

   He chuckled warmly. "I have a more graceful idea."

   Marquis carefully set me down before crouching in front of me, allowing me to clamber onto his back and secure my arms around his shoulders. He stood up, and together, we proceeded towards the staircase.

   As I pressed against the warmth of his back, my head found its place in the curve of his neck, where the delicate fringe of his hair playfully brushed my skin. Heat rose to my cheeks. He radiated an enticing, musky scent—a blend of sweat, masculinity, and an air of mystery.

   Our conversation came in brief, intimate exchanges as we strolled. The sky blazed with an orange glow, streaked with rosy plumes that merged into a tapestry of purple, pink, and yellow hues. The sun dipped silently against the city's silhouette, while a gentle breeze enveloped us.