Chapter 2

There weren't cars honking from below.

That's when I knew something was wrong. I was engulfed by silence that should have felt peaceful but it wasn't. The freezing temperature didn't help matters.

My run down apartment was never this cold in the summer, neither was it ever this quiet. On a regular day, the paper thin walls filtered in the sound of the daily 2:00 a.m parties, car honking from the streets that never seemed to sleep or the neighbors arguing next door.

The worst part? It was the scent that swamped my nostrils.

It wasn't a bad kind of scent... Just expensive. It smelled like fabric softener that was worth a whole week's worth of groceries.

Finally, I  had the courage to peel open my eyes. 

I was expecting some kind of blinding light, but instead,  a gasolier hung from the ceiling.

I sat up slowly, but the throbbing ache at the side of my head made it hard to concentrate. 

The room was large. It felt much larger than it needed to be, as it only contained a bed, a vintage vanity desk and the mirror which stood beside the unlit fireplace.

My fingers found their way to the sore spots, but before my head could register what I was feeling, my eyes caught my reflection in a mirror that sat at the corner of the room, which was barely illuminated by the moonlight flooding in.

A bandage. It was wrapped neatly around my head, but still had blood seeping through it.

The sight of blood was all I needed for everything to come crashing down on me at once. 

Mr Dawson. Murder accusations, and then the whole  bloody scene at the alley.

The sound of footsteps echoed outside the door, making my pulse skyrocket  as a wave of dread washed over me. There wasn’t much time to etch out an escape plan, so I darted into a wardrobe and crouched behind some clothes, while watching outside through a small opening. 

The door swung open, but I  could only see shoes that belonged to two men. They stood by the doorway for the longest time, before fully letting themselves in. 

Breathing felt difficult, as the slightest bit of noise could easily give my hiding spot away.

“Are you sure she didn't get out of here? "A husky voice called out, turning to the second man.

"I'm certain, Ronan. There's no way she would have used the window.”

Ronan?

Just as I was wondering who was speaking, the wardrobe swung open. 

For a moment, I sat frozen as the gears in my head worked hard to comprehend when and how he had gotten to the wardrobe without making a single sound.

He wore a long black coat with a shirt that buttoned up to his neck.  A velvet cravat was wrapped around his neck, while every inch of him dressed like old money.

My temples began to pulse again, wondering if I had been dropped off in a movie based in the 19th century. 

My eyes traced up to meet his face. Something about his proportions were wrong in a way I couldn't name. They were too precise... Like whoever created him did so before humans were tainted with imperfections. 

Just for a second, I became aware of my own breathing as we both stared each other down, not saying a word—just observing. 

I tore her gaze away from his, looking over to the man at the door, and in an instant, my blood ran cold.

It was the same monster I had seen feeding off that woman. I was able to connect the dots and it didn't take being Einstein to know what they both were…Monsters posing as humans. 

Whatever bubble of shock I was trapped in, shattered in an instant.

My fingers began trembling and my lips quivered as I spoke. 

 "P-please, just let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone what I saw tonight.” 

“There won't be any need for that. "He said calmly, stretching his arm towards me. 

My nails dug into my palm as beads of sweat rolled down my forehead.

This was it. I was finally paying for every evil deed I had done with my life.

His eyes fluttered open after a few seconds and met my terrified ones staring right back at him.

His brows furrowed in confusion, but then, he went ahead to repeat his actions, and each time, I just stared back at him. This time, with confusion.

He shot up, passing the length of the room, while his subordinate looked at me with a calculated expression. My eyes stayed trained on Ronan, just in case he planned to pounce on me.

“Could she be the one?” He spoke up, cutting through the silence.

Ronan stopped in his tracks, locking his eyes with me, as the hardened expression never left his face.

“We have to confirm with the elders before jumping into conclusions.” He said, his tone unsure.

Even though the mere thought of being in the same room as these two made my stomach churn, being thrown into a lion's den with no plausible explanation made a myriad of questions sit at the tip of my tongue.

“What am I one for? What are you guys? ”I forced out, keeping my voice firm. “I saw him kill-”

“Silence!” The man boomed, catching me off guard.

I had dealt with people whose names silenced the room before their presence was felt, but whoever this man was, was different.

His feet carried him back to his initial position, but this time, he crouched down to my level with his face dangerously close to mine.

I, on the other hand, stayed frozen in my spot. I should have pulled away, at least from fear, but instead, I found myself examining his features like he was the most interesting thing at that moment.

“Don't step out of this room,” he warned in a menacing tone. “If you try using the window, you'd fall 80 feet to your death. Got that?”

I nodded in affirmation.

“You,” he called out, turning to the other man, before rising to his feet. “Follow me.”

The man and his subordinate mute their way out of the door, but then he turned back to gaze at me as if etching my face into his memory, then he shut the door with a click.

A sigh escaped my lips once the man took his domineering energy out of the room with him.

I looked towards the window and thought about his words earlier. Then I remembered all I had seen in the alley, and imagined what would happen to me if I stayed here any longer.

Finally, I came to a conclusion about the place: 

If I messed around, I'd find out what could get me killed.

And one thing Blythe Gibson doesn't do, is staying long enough to mess around.