FABIOLA

PROLOGUE

I hear the thunder cracking, and I’m automatically transported to that one night. The sound of a gunshot echoes with the thunder from outside my bedroom window, mixing and creating the most unnerving sound I’d ever heard in this giant house.

I wasn’t a stranger to gunshot sounds, but this—this was scary because it was raining heavily outside. As my small feets slides down the bed of my enormous room, I noticed it was extremely dark, but I could make the faint streaks of light slipping through my bedroom door as I walked out to the grand living room.

Another thunder cracked and I shuddered, wishing I were holding my stuffed bunny Puffles. Someone was screaming now from somewhere in this mansion, and I followed the sound till I reached the basement door. Dad has always warned me never to set foot down here. But— but someone is there, sobbing and in a lot of pain from the sounds I could hear. Whomever they are, I needed to help. With that thought in mind, I jerked the handles open to reveal the dim basement below, as the wood staircase that led down looked wet, like it had been washed recently. The basement was unexpectedly dark, save for a golden bulb that dangled from the ceiling below. As I peeked my head through the door, I noticed Dad standing with his back to me, dressed in what looked to be a leather jumpsuit stained with some strange liquid. He didn’t notice my presence as he was busy kicking someone in front of him, whom I now realised was the person sobbing.

I wanted to help, but Dad would be mad I didn’t adhere to his orders of not coming down here in the first place.

Another thunder clapped loudly and i couldn’t help the yelp that slipped out of my mouth which got dad’s attention as he turned sharply to the door with wide eyes and I got a view of what he was doing to the person which made me scream out in horror for my eyes had never seen such—Gore.

A hand— my mother’s slender hands covered my mouth as she dragged me down to my bedroom, shutting the basement door with a loud bang. She was talking now as she tucked me to bed. Talking about me being a stubborn child and how I don’t listen to simple rules, and how Daddy would be so angry with me. But all I could think about was the image of that girl who couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than me, tied to that uncomfortable basement chair, completely naked, with a tight cord around her mouth. She was twisted in an unnatural angle with her feet around her neck as her privates were completely open and oozing what looked to be blood.

Another heavy thunder sounded outside as my eyes opened, taking in my surroundings, for I was no longer in that giant room but in my bedroom in the Bronx. I was having one of my usual nightmares, it would seem as I dragged my hands through my rat nest damp hair. My gaze shifted to my window, which lay open as rainwater drizzled in, wetting my rug. I was sweating from the way my nightgown slung around my body like a glove, but the air coming into my room was ice cold as I walked to the window, shutting it tightly.

I gazed at my reflection from the window, noting the puffy, mismatched eyes and freckled face, but my breath quickly caught in my throat as I viewed the figure standing outside my bedroom window under the downpour.

His face was hooded by the darkness.

The thunder cracked, as his eyes sparked, enhancing his features for the first time, but what I saw made me scream in shock. As I pressed my own hands to my mouth. He was backing away now. With his hands in his pockets.

Wait stop!!.

I wanted to shout, but it would be useless, as the sound of the rain would most likely muffle my voice.

His face was the most handsome one I’d ever seen, and it belonged to my nemesis.

My nemesis was my STALKER.