I knew that I should be feeling scared, standing in front of a person who would eventually kill you in many ways. Yet all I was feeling was nothing but pure hatred. I was mad at him. Mad at him for killing an innocent old man. My shaking hands were clenched into fists, nails digging deeper into my palm.
His enigmatic hazel eyes were fixated upon my purple ones—like a hunter examining his prey before finishing it off. I wondered angrily of what was going through his mind right now. He took a step forward and I took a step back in response. Of course he was taking his time to kill me, I was trapped here and he would have all the time in the world. He would give me a slow and painful death. I had entered into a cleverly woven trap made by a savior.
I tried to hide the fact that my body was shivering – not with fear but with resentment. Gathering up all my strength, I took a deep breath of musty air and spoke:
“You killed the gate keeper,”
He hesitated for a while, slightly taken back when I managed to ask him a question.
“Yes, I did,” he replied, coolly.
His face showed no signs of emotion just like a cold blooded killer.
“You’re planning to kill me?”
He hesitated as his eyes sparkled evilly.
“Why do you fear death,” he replied composedly. “When we had already experienced a much terrible state than death before,”
That took me by surprise.
“What are you talking about?”
He looked at me with a different glint in his eyes—something more alarming.
“I believe you have no memories of such events, yes?” the way he spoke suddenly changed into a familiar tone.
A tone which sounded more melodious and unsettling.
“What memories? Your voice…” my voice trailed off as I struggled to remember that familiar voice.
I have heard that voice before. But where?
He kept silent. I supposed he was waiting for me to speak.
“Have we met before I came to school?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Where?”
“I believe the question I must answer is when,”
This wasn’t making sense anymore. I had only met him at school today and now he was telling me we had met before. Could he be my childhood friend or something? No, that was impossible, I never had any friends. We had endured a much worse state than death? What was he talking about? My head ached as hundreds of questions formed in my mind. Maybe this hunter was playing with my mind so as to kill me when I lose all my concentration on him. Quickly, I took a few steps backwards and glared at him. His expression was still unchanging.
“You think I’m a murderer, don’t you?” he asked.
“You killed that innocent old man!” I retaliated and stopped, astonished at my own anger.
Emotion rippled across his face—was it anger or shame?
“You do not simply call a person innocent just because they have warned you about something unpleasant,”
“This is something horrible and life threatening! Those creatures were trying to kill us!” I yelled at him, patience seemed to be slipping away and I was slowly losing my composure.
YOU ARE READING
The Mansion
Mystery / Thriller“A mansion built on a desolate hill Where the grandeur masks the horrors within Where shadows lurk, all ready to kill And the whispers speak of warnings and deaths A labyrinth of corridors you will get lost If you are not attentive enough It is your...
