Maria

Chapter 21

Other than the noise of the generator, the room was a silent concrete box. It could be anywhere. I craned my neck for a window, there was none. For all I know I could be deep underground, in some random room in a isolated prison or in someone's personal homemade cell. Above the only source of light was an old fashioned bulb on a bare white wire and its switch was nowhere to be seen in the room There was something amateurish about the way the concrete walls had been set. The angles weren't quite right and there was a roughness to the texture. That in itself ruled out quite a lot of places and potential abductors. I look down at my hands, my nail polish was crackled and the rope left burns on my wrist. Then the man walked in.

With his infamous black suit, mask, and hat, it had sent shivers down my spine. It's the same attire he wore when he killed my father. He had a water bottle in his hands, he walked towards me, close enough for me to catch a whiff of his familiar musky cologne. He lifted the water bottle up to my mouth, the burning sensation in my throat grew more when he pressed the cool glass rim against my dry, cracked lips. A single drop of water traced its way inside my mouth, I savoured it. Thick saliva lined the inside of my mouth immediately sapping any moisture that may enter. He pulled away, and for some odd reason, I knew he cared for me. And in a hushed yet familiar voice, he said "You should've just minded your own business Maria" he clicked his tongue whilst shaking his head in disappointment.

Even though in that moment I was scared for my life, the only thing that came into my head to respond was this.

"You're going to regret this." I spit out at him. He jerks back and reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out a Smith and Wesson 500 revolver and cocks it.

"I think you are." He pulls the trigger without hesitation.

I jerked up from my bed. Looking at my skin, it had glistened with cold sweat that had gleamed with the moon light that hit me. I was left breathless, like I had just ran a 15k marathon. I put my hand over my heart as an instinct and attempt at my breathing exercises to cool down.  Not this type of dream again. It had felt uncomfortably real, more than it ever has.

Is this a sign? That I should stop? I don't believe I've done anything too much at this point, except examine the forensic report so why am greeted with harrowing dream yet again? The last time I had this dream was the day that I had went to the boardwalk, it's been awhile since then. I just wonder what exactly triggered this dream and what it could mean. I mean obviously looking at my dad's file earlier today has something to do with it. My subconscious and anxiety decided to just have fun and throw this dream at me, I guess.

However something seemed odd, unlike my last dream the man in it was very familiar. He had a very distinct cologne smell that I remember smelling earlier this day.

I wanted to call Luca and tell him all about it, but looking at the time I'd figure that he wasn't awake. I wanted to give it a try though, we haven't talked all day and I missed the sound of his voice in my ear. Plus, I wanted to have him see this side of me. The vulnerable side of me, in the midst of breakdown I wanted him to be the one to help calm me down. I wanted to hear his soothing voice. I wanted him. Knowing damn well that I'm capable of calming myself down, I had just wanted to test him and see what'd he'd do if I were to put him in that situation, because sooner or later, eventually I feel like he's going to be put in that situation.

I get my phone out of the charger and pull his name up on my phone, I began to call. My raggedy breaths and my chest heaving was quickening as each ring felt more elongated. 30 seconds had passed by and he didn't answer.

He didn't answer me.

Looking at the time and seeing that it was 3am I figured that I shouldn't be upset considering that he's probably just asleep. However, I couldn't deny the pit in my stomach that screamed disappointment. I look down at my shaky hands and forced myself to take longer breaths. Some part of me was tempted to call Stefano. Just to see if he would answer, and if he did, what would I even do?