Devour You

49

Rio

9:30 p.m.

The engine of the BMW slowly decreases in sound, as I slow down in preparation to put my car in park. The street is dark - desolation seeming to be the only thing to linger in the Summer air when I step out.

Shutting the car door quietly behind me, I start in my steps to near the familiarly creepy tall house. And when I cross the yard that obtains uncut grass, I reach the rem of my dark jeans for the handle of my old golden gun. I take the cool steel in my grip, pulling it out.

Stealthy, I pick up my pace across the yard, and head towards the front door. But when I run up the old and run downed porch steps, a couple squeaks alert the vacant street. I grunt under my breath, before placing my back against the panel of the house, beside the front door.

The entire neighborhood looks abandoned. And so does this house. But it seemed that way last time, when Beth brought Victoria here, and I came to get her in the exchange.
So I'm not gonna doubt that she's not here. She can be right behind these walls. She better be.

I sweep my tongue across my lips, and I clench my jaw hard, before I maneuver to kick the front door in. The old wooden surface swings open from the force of my foot as I keep the front of the golden gun aligned with my lethal gaze. But when I kick the door in, an echo suffices around the house - the empty house, that is.

Squeezing the gun firmly in my grip, my dark brown eyes quickly scan across the perimeter. Dust takes the squeaky floor into it's possession, as the foyer is gravely dark and empty, without a single person to stand inside.

But I keep my gun up and aligned - my eyes still searching and alert. I make my way up the steep stairs. Approaching the den upstairs, I only find vacancy in result. I continue to look around, my blazing gaze earning nothing in return, so far.

And when the second floor is cleared, and after I checked the first, I make my way down the stairs again. Coming up to the desolate foyer once again, I decide to lower my gun. Anger courses me lethally, when I shove the golden gun back into the rem of my dark jeans.

I bite down on my lip harshly - my nerves now struck and unsettling as I stand alone in the empty place. I run my hands down my face, before huffing out a groan. And instinctively, with the grave anger built up, my fist contacts the wall beside me hard.

From doing the action fast and mercilessly, my body drops to the dusty floor - the back of my navy blue button down shirt now pressed against the wall. But I don't think to push myself up, not yet. On the hard floor, I throw my head back, against the cracked wall.

My dangerous irises flutter shut, when I absentmindedly pinch the bridge of my nose. My blood rushes coldly, under my hot skin.

Where...

Is...

My...

Fiancé?

Her smile appears in my head, while the deafening silence lurks around me.
My closed eyelids twitch, as I rest a hand over my mouth.

I miss her. I need her.

And me sitting on this stupid floor isn't gonna help me find her. I gotta get up, I have to go. Because I will find her.

My eyelids flick open, as my dark and dangerous gaze settles ahead. And I push myself up from off the dirty ground, brushing myself off afterward - pulling my dark shirt down over the rem of my pants, to hide the golden handle peering out at my lower back.