“Seriously? You want to play it that way?”
“I’m not playing.”
I grab his jaw. “I don’t know how many times you’ll have to act like an ass for me to be done with your shit.”
“As if you could ever get rid of me.”
Fucking asshole knows that he’s right. We both know I’d never have the guts to go through with it or else I would’ve ditched him ages ago.
“I hate you.”
“I love you too,” he whispers against my skin.
21
Visha
The walls are a hue of burgundy and black as they stretch out into the unknown.
I scan the room to find Aoi but he’s nowhere to be seen. My voice echoes into the infinite halls of the Keytons’ suburban house and dread fills me up. Distorted sounds vibrate as I tiptoe deeper into the darkness. Muffled voices whisper something to me, but I can’t make out their meanings.
I want to go home.
Having had enough, I spin around and head towards the front door, but it flees when I approach it. A thick fog settles down in the hallway and the loud thumping of footsteps reverberates, shooting shivers down my spine and making my hair stand.
I know these steps. Without a second thought, I bolt in the opposite direction, searching for an exit. The longer I run, the more I think I’m lost. The Keytons’ house isn’t supposed to be this large. There shouldn’t be as many paths and hallways.
Where the hell am I?
I slump against the corner of a burgundy wall and bring my knees to my chest. Minutes, maybe hours pass without a shift in the space. Strange and vicious sounds echo in the distance, but they seem too far for me to care. I hear the meowing of a cat and the maniacal laughter of a child.
Robert Keyton and his cat Sissy.
I remember that poor kitten and the way he dismembered it. It’s a memory stuck in my head like countless others. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this is a dream. Well, technically another nightmare.
I don’t have to be scared. It’s not real. I’m sleeping peacefully with Aoi. I’m not actually in this wretched hell hole. As long as I wake up, I’ll be able to see Aoi again. We’ll have breakfast and watch TV and-
“There you are you little shit.”
Terror freezes my limbs. I can’t open my eyes, can’t move. I hear his breathing and the room chills.
Brad Keyton. The object of my deepest and cruelest fears.
A thick and calloused hand yanks my ankle, ripping me from my corner of safety. “You can run but you can’t hide.”
His voice is a distorted mixture of bestial growls and humanoid snickers. “I’ve missed you, you know?”
“No.Pleaseno-”
Hell.
This is hell all over again. I have to run. I have to escape but I can’t move. My breath gets caught in my throat and my heart hammers in my ears, threatening to burst out of my chest. Terrified, I can only sob and beg him to stop.
Why won’t he stop? Why won’t he let me go?
“Stop crying. You know you like it,” he screeches like a dying hyena.
No, no, no, no. Please, stop. Please, please, please.
