Chapter 1: The Night of Bloodshed

Genna’s POV

I sat alone in our dimly lit living room, unable to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Clinton, my brother, rushed in.

"Clinton, what's wrong?" I asked, alarm creeping into my voice.

He didn't answer. Instead, he glanced around the room, ensuring we were alone.

"Genna, come with me, quick!" he whispered urgently, striding toward me. "We have to hide."

My heart skipped a beat. Clinton's tone sent shivers down my spine.

"What's happening? Tell me!" I demanded, rising from my chair.

Clinton's face twisted in a mixture of fear and determination.

"Shh, just trust me," he said, grasping my arm. "We don't have much time."

He dragged me toward the wardrobe.

"Hide, Genna. Don't come out, no matter what," he instructed, his voice low and serious.

"Promise me," he urged.

I nodded, my heart racing.

"I promise," I whispered.

Clinton slammed the wardrobe door shut, enveloping me in darkness.

The front door gust open and I heard hurried footsteps.

I covered my mouth, suppressing a scream.

I peeked through a small gap in the wardrobe and masked men surrounded Clinton, beating him up. He fought back, landing punches and kicks, but they were too many.

A figure stood apart, watching the chaos. From my view, it was a huge man but I couldn't see his face. His voice rang out, cold and detached.

"Take him down," he commanded.

Clinton's struggles grew weaker. He was outnumbered and soon, the men pinned him to the floor.

"Stop! Please stop!" I silently screamed as tears streamed down my face.

The man stepped forward,

"Where is she?" he demanded.

Clinton's response was muffled,

“I have no idea.”

His response was followed by blows and he fell weakly, coughing out blood.

“For the last time, where is your sister?” the man asked again.

“I'd rather die than tell you.” Clinton said.

These men are searching for me. What do they want from me? From us?

“Finish him.”

The man signaled, and a fist hit Clinton's jaw. His head snapped back, and he went limp on the floor.

A gunshot echoed through the room and Clinton lay in the pool of his own blood.

I stumbled backward, my scream trapped in my throat.

The men left, leaving Clinton's lifeless body behind. With shaking hands, I pushed the wardrobe door open and stumbled out.

“Clinton…” I whimpered,

Clinton's body lay motionless on the floor, his eyes open, staring at me.

"No, no, no..." I sobbed, collapsing beside him.

Tears streamed down my face as I cradled his head in my lap.

Clinton's bloody hand still clutched a piece of paper. Unfolding it, it read:

"Run, Genna. They're coming for you."

Clinton was my older brother and the only sibling I have. Our parents died a long time ago and I have little or no memories of them except for my mother's necklace which I have never parted with.

We have been living with my aunt, Francesca, ever since.

I sprang up, Clinton's note clutched in my trembling hand. Some bad people are looking for me, I can't let them kill me just like my brother.

My heart racing, I rushed to the closet and yanked out a small bag. With shaky hands, I fumbled through the drawer and stuffed few clothes into the bag. I didn't know where I was going, but I had to get out.

As I zipped the bag, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the door. Heavy, deliberate steps.

My heart sank.

The door burst open, and three hefty men came in. I froze, my bag slipping from my grasp.

"Genna," another man growled, his voice dripping with malice. "You're coming with us."

My heart was beating furiously. I backed away, my eyes darting around the room for an escape.

"Try to run, and you'll regret it," the third man snarled, blocking my path.

I was trapped.

One of them grabbed my arm, spinning me around.

"Let me go!" I struggled, kicking and punching.

The man's grip tightened.

I stomped on his foot, and he grunted, loosening his hold.

I sprinted toward the door, but before I could escape, a firm hand grasped my shoulder, spinning me around.

"Aunt Francesca?" I stared at my aunt, shock etched on my face.

Her expression was cold, calculating and her gaze was piercing.

I struggled, but she held tight, dragging me back to the men.

"No, Aunt Francesca! What are you doing?" I pleaded.

The men's faces split into cruel smiles.

"Good job, Francesca," one of them said, handing her a bulky bag.

"Ten thousand dollars, as agreed," another man added.

Francesca's eyes gleamed as she took the bag, weighing it in her hand.

“Say hello to Mr. Sorrento. It was nice doing business with him.” She said to the men.

"You're...you're selling me? Why? I'm your niece for fuck sake!" I stuttered, horror creeping over me.

Francesca's gaze met mine, devoid of remorse, a cold smile on her lips.

"You're a burden, Genna. You and your brother.”

Tears streamed down my face as I glanced at my brother's corpse.

"Enough drama, Genna. You're going with them now."

How could my own aunt betray me like this?

I was dragged out of the room. The men's strong, grasping hands held me firm, their laughter echoing through the hallway.

One of them gagged my mouth, and I was slung over a broad shoulder. I kicked and struggled, but they just laughed.

We left the house behind, venturing into the dark woods.

As we went deeper into the woods, I kicked the groin of the man carrying me, sending him stumbling. With a firm resolve, I broke free, sprinting ahead.

"Hey!" one of them shouted.

Branches snapped beneath my bare feet but I didn't dare look back. I endured the pains and kept running.

Suddenly, the trees parted, revealing a cliff's edge. The moonlit water below stretched out before me.

I halted, the men closing in.

“You're going nowhere, Genna.” One of the men sneered.

I have reached the dead end but I'd rather die than go with these men. Left with no choice, I turned around and jumped into the lake.

Diving into the dark water, it rushed up to meet me. The cold water made me squirm but I had to remain underwater so that the men would think that I drowned.

I held my breath inside, waiting for them to give up and leave.

Seconds ticked by.

Soon, their shouts grew fainter and their footsteps receded.

I remained submerged but my lungs were burning.

Finally, I heard the distant sound of cars driving away.

With a burst of energy, I kicked upward.

I gasped, air rushing into my lungs. Sweet relief.

Exhausted, I clung to a nearby rock. My clothes clung to me, heavy with water. I took a deep breath and decided to keep running once more.

I pushed myself up and began to run through the woods towards the road.

Branches whipped my face and thorns scratched my legs. But I kept running.

Suddenly, headlights illuminated the trees ahead signifying the road.

I burst through the underbrush onto the road. A car hurtled toward me. I tried to move, but my body refused.

I fell, weakly, onto the ground. My vision was blurry as I felt my strength leave me.

A figure emerged from the car, clad in black.

He strided towards me, bending down.

I struggled to focus. Tears streamed down my face as I clutched his arm.

"Please..." I whispered.

The man's face drew closer, my eyes locking into his.

"Save me..." I pleaded.

The man's expression softened.

I felt his arms wrap around me, lifting me.

My head rested against his chest.

"Please save me..." I whispered again before my voice faded and my vision blurred.

Everything went blank.