Here is the moment you have all been waiting for. The truth is out! Let me know what you think in the comments section.
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The stench of mold hit me.
My head stung. It felt like somebody had whacked me with a baseball bat. When I attempted to move my head, my body protested. My limbs felt like jelly. Goosebumps erupted on my skin from the cold—the hairs on my bare arms stuck up. My throat was so dry. It felt like the Sahara Desert. I was desperate for a drink.
With great effort, I fluttered my eyes open.
I was met with more darkness. There was no light in the room. I was surrounded by a blanket of darkness.
Fear coursed through my body. This didn’t feel right at all. The room was so cold and empty. It was deprived of anything warmth. It left me feeling hopeless and lost.
Flashes of me lying on my bed and a man standing over me hit me. My heart skipped a beat and pure terror overwhelmed me.
How long had I been here? Where was here? Did Lazarus know what happened to me?
Slowly, I heaved myself up, using the concrete wall for support. Since I couldn’t see a thing, I used my other senses to navigate around the room. I concluded that I was in a small, square room. It had no windows or furniture. There was a metal door, that was sealed shut tightly. Light filtered in from under the door but it wasn’t enough for me to get a proper idea of where I was.
There was no way I could escape. I was trapped.
I couldn’t tell you how long I was led on the ground, wallowing in self-pity and pain. Over time, my headache worsened. All I wanted to do was shut my eyes and wake up from this bad dream. I longed for Lazarus’s comforting smell and his safe arms.
Millions of questions floated around in my head. Why hadn’t the scarred man killed me yet? Did he want to prolong my death? Did he want to continue taunting me?
One thought that was certain popped into my head. I was going to die. There was no way I was going to get out of this.
I would never see my family again. Never have Lazarus’s arms wrapped around me. Never talk to my friends again. I wanted to see them all one last time and say goodbye.
Suddenly, the sound of a screeching metal lock being heaved open knocked me out of my head. Startled, I jumped up and squeezed myself into the corner of the room. Blunt lighting filtered into the room. A silhouette stood outside the door, holding a tray of food. He dumped it onto the floor and slammed the door shut.
I waited a few seconds in case he returned and then rushed over to it. I was so hungry and thirsty I didn’t care if it was poisoned or drugged. I just needed to have something.
I devoured the food quickly. Water dribbled down my neck and onto my pajama top. When I finished, I released a long sigh and wiped my mouth.
The person who gave me my food wasn’t the scarred man. He wasn’t as tall as him.
So, it wasn’t just the two of us. He had friends.
Time passed in a strange manner. I had no way to know how long I had been awake. It didn’t feel like long but for all I knew, it had been hours.
I was hit by a tidal wave of tiredness. My eyes grew heavy and my body started to sway side to side. I realized that I had been drugged by them. Were they going to kill me whilst I was unconscious? At least I wouldn’t feel the pain. I would go peacefully.
I fell onto the floor with a thud. My eyes rolled back and my muscles stopped working.
Unconsciousness sang to me like a lullaby. I fell into peace and what I hoped to be paradise.
Freezing cold water smacked onto me, jolting me awake. Gasping for breath, I snapped my eyes open and examined the area. I was in a badly lit room, tied to an uncomfortable chair.
My teeth chattered together from the icy water. I tried to tug my hands out of the bindings but nothing worked. I was trapped.
Cautiously, I raised my head and locked eyes with the man who had been terrorizing me for so long. He had his arms crossed over his broad chest and was smirking at me wickedly. There was no light in his eyes, only death.
Fear seized me. I was at his mercy.
“You can leave us,” He addressed his accomplice who I failed to notice. The younger man nodded his head obediently and quietly left the room.
It was just me and the scarred man.
I was absolutely terrified.
“Do you know why you’re here, Celeste?” He asked me.
Pinching my lips together, I didn’t respond to him. That only made him angry.
He stepped forward, causing me to freeze and shut my eyes. That earned a sinister chuckle from him.
Hesitantly, I opened my eyes and saw him standing against the wall. “Next time you don’t reply to me, I will do something you won’t like.”
I didn’t take his threat lightly.
“So, do you know why you are here, Celeste?” He repeated, firmer this time.
Instead of keeping my mouth zipped closed, I answered him. “No.”
I hated how weak my voice sounded. Now that it was just the two of us, I was nothing but a weak, teenage girl.
“Interesting,” He remarked. “I thought you would have worked it out by now. According to your school records, you are supposed to be smart.”
I wasn’t surprised he had accessed my school records. After all, he had interfered with everything else in my life.
“Are you planning to kill me?” I blurted out, my voice wavering.
“Of course.” He said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. It probably was to be fair. Why else would he spend a decade chasing after me? He moved over to me and grabbed my chin in a forceful manner. He tilted my head so that I was staring at his face above me. His lifeless eyes gazed at my pale face, taking in my features. “Such a pretty face. It’s a shame I’ll have to ruin it.”
I watched him walk over to a table in the corner of the room that was filled with different weapons. His dirty fingers trailed over them and paused at a small knife. I gulped when he picked it up and inspected it. It glinted under the UV light.
“This one looks good.”
“Wait—please! Don’t do this,” I yelled hysterically as he sauntered over to me. My feet kicked on the ground and I struggled in my bindings. “Please! I don’t even know what I did wrong!”
That irked him. He came to a halt and mentally debated whether to go along with my stupid plan. I was delaying the inevitable.
“I guess it’s only fair you know why you have to die.” He said to himself and slipped the knife into his trousers behind him.
I stilled when he inched closer to me. He smelt of everything I hated.
“You see this scar right here?” He pointed at the long, ugly scar that stretched down the left side of his face. It started just above his eyebrow and stopped at his chin. “Your mate did that.”
All thoughts stopped. My eyes widened; I did a double-take. Was he talking about Lazarus? My precious, handsome, and kind mate?
“Y—you’re mistaken,” I spluttered, staring at him incredulously.
He shook his head, seriously. “I’m not. I remember the day it happened, very clearly.”
I slouched in my seat and processed what he said. So, Lazarus had met him before. He probably didn’t even know he had.
“So, you’re doing this because he scarred you?” I clarified, disbelief coating my voice.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” He snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m doing this because he slaughtered my family.”
Stunned. That was what I was feeling. “W—what?”
“You heard me. He murdered my innocent mate and three beautiful children.” He replied, bluntly. Anger crossed his dark orbs.
“He wouldn’t do that,” I denied, forcefully. Lazarus wasn’t that kind of person. He was sweet and caring. He only acted violently when someone was in danger.
The man snarled in my face, earning a shriek of terror from me.
“Don’t defend that vile man!” He roared into my face. My body quaked in fear and my heart was pounding so fast in my chest, I began to worry it would explode. “Your mate isn’t as innocent as he paints. He passes his dark past off as if it was a speck of dust. That man went on a killing spree and killed everyone in my pack, including my family.”
Bile rose in my throat. I didn’t want to hear this. My stomach churned.
“Please, stop,” I begged him as a few tears escaped my eyes and trailed down my cheeks. It hurt to hear this.
He was right in my face now. His glowing red eyes glowered at me. “That’s exactly what I said to him as I watched him rip my mate’s heart out. When I tried to stop him, he did this to my face!” He jabbed his hand at the horrific scar.
I was sobbing now. I felt bad for him—this tragedy turned him into this monster. But I also still hated him for ruining my childhood.
“But why me?”
“You’re his mate, you foolish girl. You’re the reason he went nuts. You’re his salvation.” He explained. “I want him to feel the pain I feel every day.”
“You’re using me to get to him?” I summarized; my voice hoarse from crying so much.
I didn’t know what to think anymore. I knew Lazarus killed people. But I also knew he regretted everything he did so much. It all still haunted him. If he could take it all back, he would.
“B—but you have been trying to kill me for ten years! I only met Lazarus a few months ago!” I exclaimed, confused, and hysterical.
I felt like I was spiraling. I was so conflicted. Lazarus deserved to be hated by me for putting me in this position yet I couldn’t find it in my heart to loathe him. Every time I tried to think that way, I saw him smiling or comforting me.
He chuckled, finding everything I did amusing. I was a source of entertainment for him. It sickened me to the bone.
“Witches.” He stated, abruptly stopping his laughter.
I cocked my head to the side, “What?”
“I have a friend who is a witch. She can see the future. She saw you years before you were even born. She told me who you were and where you lived. I planned to terrorize you for years so that when you finally met Lazarus, he would feel the need to protect you. It would make losing you to me even more painful.” He told me, revealing his plan.
In a blind wave of rage, I spat in his face. He spoke about me as if I was a play toy, not a human being.
He froze and reluctantly wiped it away.
“Now that’s not very nice, girlie.” He reprimanded. He grabbed a chunk of my hair and pulled at his ferociously. I yelped and reemployed my kicking method. “For someone who claims they want to live, you seem to have a death wish.”
He grabbed the knife and showed it off in front of me. My eyes remained trained on it. He brought it up to my neck and pressed on my skin. I flinched when it drew a speck of blood.
“Wait—I don’t even know your name,” I yelled, in another attempt to delay him. “Don’t I deserve to know the name of the man who tormented me for years?”
He smirked, “Bates.”
Then the strangest thing happened. As he stared into my eyes and pushed the knife further into my neck, he hesitated.
Recognition and horror flashed in his onyx orbs. He retracted the knife and took a step back.
My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. What was he doing?
His mood had just done a one-eighty.
“You look like my Diana.” He muttered, in awe. “Yes, around the eyes, you look like my daughter. How did I not see this before?”
Whilst he was busy mumbling incoherent sentences to himself like a mad man, I tugged at the rope that held my hands behind my back. It took a lot of effort and maneuvering but I managed to loosen it. I yanked my hands away and leaped to my feet, causing the chair to be knocked to the ground.
It caught Bates’ attention. He whipped his head in my direction and narrowed his eyes.
“What do you think you are doing?” He sent me an icy glare. “Do you think you can fight me and escape? Don’t be stupid. I will kill you.”
“Then why haven’t you?” I knew I hit a sore spot. His face hardened and his fingers curled into a fist. “Oh, that’s right. You can’t.”
I didn’t know what I was doing. Winding him up was not the best idea.
When had I turned so brave?
Georgia’s words echoed in my mind. “You won’t always have somebody there to save you. You might have to do it all yourself” She said.
This was what she was talking about. Nobody was going to rescue me. It was all up to me.
Just as Bates lunged at me, I dodged him. He swirled around on the balls of his feet and growled at me. The knife was still in his hand and his red eyes were deadly.
From my peripheral vision, I saw the table of weapons. An idea formed in my head.
He stalked closer to me whilst I backed away to the table. He didn’t notice where I was going or what my plan was.
“You’re stuck, girlie.” Bates taunted, smiling cynically.
My body hit the table. With one hand behind my back, I searched the table for the weapon I wanted whilst he continued blabbering about his victory. He began boasting how he would parade my body in front of Lazarus. He didn’t care if he died—he would have done what he wanted.
Any sympathy I felt for him vanished. This man deserved to burn in hell.
My fingers brushed against the gun. I wrapped them around the handle and in lightning speed, picked it up and pointed it at him.
“Any last words?” I arched an eyebrow, confident, and less afraid.
“F*ck yo—” I pulled the trigger, cutting him off. The bullet hit his chest, where his heart was. Blood immediately poured out of the wound and soaked his top. He shuffled closer; my instant reaction was to shoot him again. This time, it was in the head.
His body crashed to the ground.
He stopped moving.
Lowering my hand, I let the gun fall from my hands and smack onto the ground. My knees unbuckled and my surroundings began to blur.
I had just killed someone. I shot him. He was dead because of me.
It was like I was watching the main character defeat the antagonist in the movies. I couldn’t focus on anything else. I was in a state of shock.
The door to the room banged open and the other man entered. Everything he said was faint to me—I couldn’t hear him. He ran away, leaving the door wide open. He didn’t return.
Tears fell from my eyes. I had lost a part of myself. I had committed the ultimate sin.
I knew I did the right thing but that didn’t mean I was okay with it. His blood would always be on my hands.
After some time crying over what happened, I made myself leave the horrible place.
It turned out I was in some sort of underground facility. Bates’ accomplice had left all the doors open as he fled.
Cautiously, I climbed the stairs. The sun’s harsh rays beamed down on me. I held my hand over my eyes and squinted at my surroundings. I was in a clearing in the woods. Towering trees surrounded me.
There was no civilization that I could see. So, like a robot, I started walking in a direction.
Trees bashed into me and roots threatened to trip me up. I tripped a few times and wordlessly got back up.
I was now running on autopilot.
The police found me stumbling along a semi-busy road, with blood coating my clothes. I hadn’t even realized his blood was on my face and body. It must have splattered on me after I shot him.
Two nice-looking police officers parked their car to the side and approached me quickly. They fawned over me, firing questions. I didn’t speak. I didn’t react. I simply stared ahead; my eyes lifeless.
He was dead. I had killed him.
They drove me to the police station and tried to interview me. They wanted to know who I was and why there was blood on me. They wondered if I had been attacked. I didn’t answer a single question. They took my fingerprints and ran them through their database to find out my identity. They called several people, including Marco.
I sat on the bench opposite the police desk, wrapped in a blanket, holding a cup of tea. His blood was still on me.
All of my friends arrived half an hour later, their expressions frantic. Lazarus popped up in front of me first and hugged me.
I felt the sparks that used to comfort me. Now they only reminded me of why I had gone through this. I didn’t reply. I didn’t look him in the eye.
The girls gasped at the sight of me and burst into tears. I probably looked like Carrie.
Lazarus kept repeating something. I didn’t know what it was though—his voice was muffled to me. It was as if I was in a movie and everything else was in slow motion. I couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying or doing. It was only me.
He looked panicked and scared. So, scared.
It sent a pang of sadness that hit my heart. I should be comforting him right now. I should be crying in his arms.
I couldn’t find it in me to do that though. I felt like I didn’t deserve his comfort. I was unworthy.
My eyes were flat and empty. No tears were shed. My eyes were zeroed in on the floor in front of me.
I felt different. Distant. Lost.
I was a killer. I murdered someone. That would follow me around forever. I would never be the same again.
They would all look at me differently. I was evil.
It turned out Bates had still won. He had killed me.
My next update will be on Saturday.