To Slow a Treacherous Heart ✓

21| A Revolting Revelation

Date Published: 20th April 2019

Chapter Twenty One: A Revolting Revelation

The door creaked open.

She slammed the chair onto his head.

A loud shout sounded the room. A body crumpled onto the floor.

"You little idiot!"

The man on the floor was not Viktor Thorne.

It was someone else. A man dressed in a butler's uniform. He had a small moustache and a bare head.

Oh, God.

She stepped back and raised the chair over her head again. "Why is it that I remember Ryan killing my parents?"

God, the chair was heavy.

Victor Thorne gave her another one of his sadistic grins. "Finalement. That chére, is the right question,"

She took a step back. "Then answer me,"

He pulled out his gun. "Put the chair down first, fleur."

She stood her ground.

He raised the gun that had materialized in his hand upward and pulled the trigger.

The chair fell to the floor and her hands dashed to her injured thigh. A dark red stain began blackening her skin-colored stockings. She screamed.

"I do not need you," he said stonily. "Remember that,"

"Go to hell,"

"Ah, but aren't we all?" he replied, a grotesque smile drawing itself upon his face. "And now to answer your most intelligent question. Think ma chére, why would only you remember it that way?"

"You put a bloody hole in me, and you expect me to think?" she screeched. "What kind of sadistic asshole are you?"

"Someone who could put a hole in your other leg. In fact, I wonder what would happen if fill you with holes and pour water through you."

"You're insane!"

He pointed the gun at her head.

"Okay, stop! I-I'll try. Um-I don't know. I guess, I-" and then it clicked.

Her head was pounding, her shoulder wound burning, and her thigh was on fire, but it clicked.

And all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. And the picture hit her like a punch aimed directly to the stomach. It knocked the wind out of her. A strong iron rope of fear slowly coiled itself around her, tightening its grasp with every wrap.

She stared into his eyes; his hypnotic violet eyes. Eyes that could pull her into an inky black oblivion that she'd never wish to escape once she entered. She knew how to escape it. He'd taught her.

He had taught her. "You hypnotized me,"

Black began to outline the rims of her vision. Her adrenaline rush began to fade into a dull shuddering pain. Why was everything so damn twisted in her life?

It felt as though her whole life was once again uprooted and put back in upside down.

How was she ever going to survive this?

***

Thorne smiled at her, a look of triumph enveloping his wrinkled, pale face.

"And you have yet again solved another murder, Detective Summers."

"You made me think he killed my parents. You must have somehow made him think that he had done all the events that surrounded the murder. After all, no one can make someone think he did something he's never done. The rest was easy wasn't it? I would go on thinking Ryan killed my parents and if he showed up with his story it would seem like he suffered psychological trauma. There was evidence against him if need be." She breathed in, pushing the darkness away. "But why would you jump at the opportunity of a gang killing?"

"You tell me chére," he said, still grinning.

Didn't his face hurt from smiling so much?

May thought about it. Why would he do that? Unless-

"Unless you left something behind. A loose string. A fingerprint-no, that can't be it; you're more meticulous than someone with OCD. A-wait-the note! The note you left on Rosa's body. That was the evidence you left behind. That's why you wanted everything to be as it was, didn't you? Ryan was out of the picture, mourning the loss of his sister until the end of time. I was hidden away in California tending to my brother and dead set on not resurfacing the past. But you didn't expect him to come back. You didn't expect him to come back to me. And that's how he'll beat you."

"Ah chére, haven't you realized that no one can beat me?" he said. Then he began clapping. "Bravo, I have to give it to you Maybelline. I didn't expect you to solve it all that fast. All those murders you read about, and watched-they worked out well for you, rein? Félicitations!"

"You are sick,"

"Yes, I know," he replied. Then he sighed. "I thought you could somehow fill the void Violet left behind, you know? But, non it was not meant to be."

Moustache began to wake up. "Oof, what was that?" he rubbed his head.

"She knocked you out with a chair," he replied, not taking the gun off of her. "Now, tie her up,"

"No more rope, sir." He replied, his hand still on his head. He gazed at May's thigh and winced.

"Then use duct tape you bloody moron,"

Moustache's moustache trembled when he sighed. "Yes, sir. May I also get some bandages for the girl's leg?"

Thorne waved his hand as if he didn't care.

He went out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a roll of duct tape and some white coloured bandages. There was a bottle of alcohol in his other hand. "Be quick about it,"

"Yes, sir,"

Suddenly Thorne's phone began to ring. He answered it. "Yes?"

A second later his smile widened. If that were even possible.

"Parfait. I will be there in a minute," he replied. He put his phone back in his pocket and turned the full force of his grin onto her. "And voila. Here he is, right on time."

"You'll never get away with this Thorne," she yelled.

"But of course, ma chére. I already have."

***
Next Update: 22nd April 2019