RomanLana has a way of getting to you. She sneakily creeps through your defences when you aren't looking. She infuriates me in ways no one does. She makes me lose control. I hate losing control. That's why ever since that morning I've been keeping my distance. I have to if I want to be in control. She has this charm that draws people in, an addictive charm. I nearly got sucked into it when I kissed her, I almost lost control. I had to stop myself from throwing her on the table and devouring her. Those soft fucking lips I want to taste again. When I planned this out months before we encountered each other I expected it to be easy, I'd co exist with her in the house, sort out her father then ship her off. But now, the possibility of shipping her off is slim. My eyes are closed as I sag back in my chair. Her long, curly, ginger hair comes to mind. I want to make passionate love to her and I want to encircle my fist in it. That gorgeous, glossy, thick hair. She's so breathtakingly beaut
The clock is ticking, people's lives are in my hands. The mental anguish is killing me, my father has always loved games like this. Even though my body is trembling and seconds away from hitting the ground I suck it up. I take deep breaths and put on my mask. I bury all my emotions inside a dark pit at the centre of my core. I step out of my office. I pass by Annie who's seated behind her desk who waves gingerly at me. It takes everything in me to be able to meet her gaze and smile back. I already feel sick to my stomach. Still I keep walking, my legs getting heavier with each step I take away from her. "Mrs Micheals, what time will you be back?" She calls out. I stop in my tracks. I don't face her. I don't turn. I can't turn. There's a heavy silence that fills the place. The words are at the tip of my tongue but I can't say them. Time is ticking, I should be sprinting out of the building."I won't be back for a while.""Is something wrong Mrs Micheals?"My fingers grip the hem of
When I push the rusty door, it almost comes off its hinges. How long has this place been deserted? I'm getting goosebumps all over my body as I walk through the place. Dust floats around with each step I take, irritating my nose. I can hardly see anything because the place is so dimly lit. Despite the fact that it's dead quiet and I can't see anything out of the ordinary, I can't seem to shake my fear. Fear that something bad will happen at any moment.I keep my fingers steady on my gun. Guns make me uncomfortable. I come to a stop in front of a door. I stare at it intently, dread filling my body as I consider what lies behind it. After several minutes of deliberation and my hand hovering over the handle I open it. The room is pitch black. I don't take a step forward because all of a sudden my body is too heavy to move. I don't want to enter this room. I feel myself taking slow steps backwards instead. I stop myself immediately. Am I really going to run away? Am I going to leave Hunte
The room has white walls or rather had white walls. Coated in blood now and decorated with several pictures of me. Dating back to my college graduation day. Scribbles and markings are on some of my pictures with words like "slut", "traitor", "basard" "devil" "disgrace". I feel both disgusted and angry. This is sick and psychotic. I finally discover what was causing that terrible smell. Up ahead on the wall is a dead dog pinned. It's eyes are missing and so is its nose. The words "This will be your fate Lana." Is written in blood above its head. I won't lie and say I'm not terrified. I am, I'm extremely terrified. Each time my eyes scan the walls my fear gets intense. I am however also feeling immensely disgusted and angry. All these feelings are mixing up together to form an unstable potion inside of me. A potion that ignites my rage, more especially my thirst for revenge. My bloody thirst for revenge. I've never felt it at such an intensity before. I just want to tear everything
He's shackled in so many chains, scars all over his body have blood seeping from them. His face is puffed up and swollen making him barely recognizable. He's missing some fingers on each hand, my eyes drift down to his legs, they hang weakly and are twisted in a weird way. They aren't supposed to be twisted in that way. There's a huge pile of blood below him. Is he even breathing ? Something inside me breaks at this very moment. Something I don't think can ever be fixed. I make my way to him and my hands cup his bloodied face. "Hey Hunter, Hunter." My voice is faint and shaky. As his blood coats my hands, I feel myself sinking into that dark place. I check for a pulse holding my breath as I do so. I let out a sigh if relief when I feel one. It's faint, very faint. I have to get him out or here. My eyes scan the chains, I tug and pull on them, desperately trying to free him from their hold. My nods is shaking so much. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to free him. What if I
The monster that has been haunting my dreams all these years pops up on the screen. Alexander Morelli the devil himself. Sitted behind his favorite desk in his office and on his favorite large chair that resembles a throne. Though he's aged with the years, he has still managed to maintain his good looks. A full face of grey hair, and his familiar crooked nose he'd always had. His cold eyes that bore into your soul and haunt you when you close your eyes. With a scar across his left left cheek that I gave him as a parting gift. He gazes into my eyes. The last time we locked eyes like this was when he was laying in a pool of his blood after I shot him five times. I was fourteen. I watch frozen in place at the monster of a father I've come to dread. The man I hate with a burning passion. Resting in between his fingers is his prized Arturo Fuente cigar. Even after all these years those damn cigars still didn't kill him. Then again I thought I killled him too. I thought he was dead and wa
Another screen lights up. It's showing Roman patrolling a warehouse. My heart skips a beat. Where is he? Is he in this warehouse? What is my father going to do to him? I watch as Roman enters a room. A large screen is rooted in the centre of the room. Roman eyes the screen intently,a dark look plastered across his face. It takes me a few seconds to realise that I'm on the screen he's watching. This means that he's watching live footage of me having a pissing contest with my father. Sensing that something's off, Roman attempts to leave the room but the door doesn't budge. He steps back and shoots at the handle then tries to pry the door open. It doesn't budge. From the looks of it, it's an automated door, a really strong automated door. I don't like the way this is going. Feeling more impatient than ever finally I speak up "Get. To. The. Point." I spit."So impatient, fine. You're going to have to choose."I arch my eyebrows. My heart drops. Choose? Choose what ? Between who? Please
I feel all the oxygen sucked out of me. I fail to utter a reply. There's no way I can choose. I glance back at Roman then to Hunter once again. "I'll help you make a decision. There's a a toxic gas that will be pouring into the room your husband's in and your little friend has a bomb implanted on his back. In eight minutes your husband will be choking on his own blood or you'll blow up together with your friend. Make the choice and I'll stop the clock for either."I look at the monitor displaying Roman. I see a faint green gas pouring into the room. He covers his mouth and bone with his elbow despite his efforts I can see tremors running through his body. My path of vengeance or peace. If I leave Roman to die I can walk away from here with Hunter and go back to living my normal life. I run my fingers through my hair. Did I ever have a normal life? I was always living in fear om the edge. I never lived my life to the fullest. That wasn't living. There was always a dark longing inside