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Claire
“Claire, you’re still here?” Ada asked from behind the counter, half-smiling like she already knew the answer. I looked up from the patient chart in my hand. “Yeah. Night shift again.”I heard a sigh. “You never rest, do you?” she said. I gave a small laugh. “Bills don’t rest either do they?” “Oh well” She chuckled and shook her head. “At least eat something before you pass out.” “I will,” I said, stretching my arms. “There’s a small store across the street. I’ll grab something quick.” The clock said 11:57 p.m. My stomach growled like it was protesting the time and at that point I was sure it was loud enough to serve as an alarm clock to a deep sleeper. I slipped on my sweater, signed out at the desk, and stepped outside. The night air was cold and smelled like wet dust. The street was quiet — one of those nights where everything feels half-asleep. The small store ahead had its light still on, buzzing faintly like it was tired too. I walked faster. The sound of my shoes on the pavement echoed softly. When I reached the door, I paused and my brows furrowed. I could hear something inside. Low grunts. A man’s muffled voice and a woman giggling. My brows drew together. What the hell? I pushed the door open a little and peeked inside as my tension grew. There were news of thieves robbing in this hood recently and my heart raced as it seemed like it was happening right before me. The sound got louder —. I frowned and walked toward the back room, half-annoyed, half-curious even though I knew I should have ran away in the first instance. I looked through my back frantically and pulled out my Can of pepper spray which I always walked around with. When I opened the small side door, I froze. I saw a girl and I recognized her to be the salesgirl of the store. I think her name was Dina or Tina, can’t really remember and she was kneeling in front of the shop owner. He was slumped against the counter, face red, eyes half-closed. She was topless and she was sucking the cock of the store owner as though the chances of her getting her next months salary depended on it. “Holy fuck!.” I shut the door immediately, heat rushing to my face. “Disgusting,” I muttered under my breath. I picked a few snacks and bottled water, dropped the cash on the counter, and left before anyone noticed me. Back at the hospital, I ate in silence, trying to get that scene out of my head. My shift dragged on until four a.m. By then, I was exhausted. My eyes burned. I could barely think. When it was finally time to go home, I packed my things and stepped outside again. The same store was still open. Weird. I slowed down as I walked past it. Then I heard it again — a man’s voice which was quite loud and hoarse. Then… a scream. I stopped. Rolled my eyes at first. “He’s probably at it again,” I mumbled. But then the scream came again but this time around it was sharp and tremendous. Something inside me twisted. That didn’t sound like pleasure. I turned toward the store and pulled out my pepper spray again. The front door was slightly open. My heart started beating faster. I hesitated, then stepped inside. The smell hit me first and I knew what it was from the first sniff. Blood. I froze. Then I saw the shop owner Lying flat on the floor. His throat was torn open. Blood everywhere. My breath caught in my throat and an unprovoked cold tightened me up. And then I saw it. It looked like a man, but… not. His eyes glowed faint amber. His mouth was smeared with blood. His chest rose and fell too fast. For a moment, we just stared at each other. Then he turned fully toward me. My whole body locked. I jolted my ghost out of my body and sprinted. I didn’t think — I just ran. My shoes slapped against the wet ground, heart pounding so hard it hurt. I reached the hospital, slammed the door, and locked myself in one of the empty rooms. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely breathe. What the hell did I just see? I pressed my back against the wall and tried to calm down. But the image wouldn’t leave. His glowing eyes. The blood. The way he looked at me like—like he knew me. Hours passed. The hospital was dead silent now. Around 4:30 a.m., the lights suddenly went off. Everything. The machines, the hallway lights, the entire building. My heart jumped. “Not now,” I whispered. Then—three soft and slow knock. I held my breath. “Who’s there?” I asked but there was no answer. The knock came again, a little louder this time. I swallowed and walked slowly to the door my legs trembling like a drenched chicken. Maybe it was a patient. Maybe security. Maybe— I opened the door halfway. And froze. It was the shop owner. The same man I saw dead. His clothes were shredded, his skin pale. But his eyes—those faint golden eyes—stared right at me. “Hi,” he said, voice hoarse. Before I could even scream, he lunged at me. Everything went black.I tried every door. Locked. Another one. Locked. Another— This one gave a little. I pushed harder. It creaked open on its own. The darkness inside wasn’t just dark — it felt alive. I hesitated at the threshold, listening. Nothing but the rain and my pulse thudding in my ears. Then a sound — faint, metallic — clink, clink, clink. Chains. My breath caught. I stepped in, just a little, squinting through the dim. The door slammed shut behind me. I screamed, spinning around, clawing at the handle — but it wouldn’t move. My heart went wild. I turned back, pressing against the door, eyes straining to see through the black. There was a sound — low, broken. A groan. And when my eyes finally adjusted, I saw him. A man. Hanging from the ceiling. Bound by his wrists, body trembling, stripped down to nothing but shredded fabric around his waist. His skin was a canvas of blood and bruises, his face unrecognizable beneath it all. A gag pressed between his lips. He was alive. Barely.
There was a knock on the door. I grunted but drag myself off the bed and open the door. It’s the same old woman from before, the quiet one with the calm, empty eyes. She flashes her eyes quickly on me but brushed them away as though scared of me“Mr. Damien requests your presence downstairs for breakfast.” I hesitate, looking at her connfused. but she just stands there, still as stone. So I nod and shut the door, my pulse tapping against my throat. What the fuck does that asshole wants from me? The mirror catches my reflection as I change into a clean shirt and jeans. I look… tired. I placed my hand on my breast and the memory of when Damien fell on me and I could feel his hardness flash in my head . “Fuck!” I shook my head and shrugged off the thought. When I finally step into the hallway, I almost forget how big this house is. The staircase curves like something out of a movie, the walls lined with portraits of people who look too powerful to smile. The dining room is wors
I’d stopped counting the hours. My head was pounding. My throat was dry. I wanted out and I wanted air. I sat up, pushing the blanket off. “This is insane,” I muttered to no one. “Completely insane.” The flashback of the store owner lying lifeless in the pool of his own blood with a beast beside him scared me. I had me wondering if Damien was the beast. I quickly pushed that thought away, I just didn’t want to think about it, at least not yet. I went to the door again, turned the knob—locked, of course. I hit it once, hard. “Let me out!” My voice cracked but there was no response asides my echo. By the time the door finally opened, I was pacing. He walked in like he owned the world. It was Damien and he stepped in Calm, composed, in that dark shirt that made him look carved out of shadow. His eyes flicked over me like a radiant star. I folded my arms. “Can you just let me go? Why are you keeping me here?!” I snapped. “What kinda kidnapper are you?! You haven’t even said what
“Mom please don’t go. Please don’t leave me” I cried and ran behind my Mom as she was being dragged away by some Men I couldn’t see thier faces but looked beastly. “It’s about time Claire, very soon, very very soon” she whimpered and gave me a teary smile while I fell to the floor weeping and stretching my hands towards. Instanly I was jolted by low rumble of thunder. It was then I realized I was just having a nightmare. I sat on the bed with my heart heaving eratically. I thought about what my Mom said but I couldn’t even wrap my hands round the possible meaning of what she said. For a moment, I can’t tell if the sound is outside or inside my head. Rain taps softly against glass, steady and rhythmic — like a pulse. My pulse. Then I remember. This isn’t my room. I remembered where I was and again fear and anger gripped me. As I sat more properly on the bed, I notice my clothes. I’m no longer in the tattered uniform from the night before. I’m wearing a clean white shirt —
Claire “Ugh fuck!” I groaned as I flashed my eyes open. The first thing I felt was cold air. Then pain. A dull, heavy throb at the back of my head as I stretched my right hand towards it. When I opened my eyes fully, I didn’t see the hospital. I didn’t see anything familiar. All I saw was a white sheet, gold curtains and a chandelier dangling right above me. Everything looked… expensive. Too expensive and I only saw places like this in the movies. “What the hell?” I whispered. I sat up slowly, my body weak, dizzy. My hand went straight to my neck — no bite, no blood. Just a small bruise near my shoulder. I looked around again. The room was huge. The bed alone could fit five people. The walls were covered in framed art and warm lights that hummed quietly. It didn’t feel like a hospital. It felt like a movie. “Where am I?” I hissed. My voice sounded small, swallowed by silence. I stood, wobbling a bit, and walked to the door. I jacked and shook on it but it didn’t open. I tur
Claire “Claire, you’re still here?” Ada asked from behind the counter, half-smiling like she already knew the answer. I looked up from the patient chart in my hand. “Yeah. Night shift again.”I heard a sigh. “You never rest, do you?” she said. I gave a small laugh. “Bills don’t rest either do they?” “Oh well” She chuckled and shook her head. “At least eat something before you pass out.” “I will,” I said, stretching my arms. “There’s a small store across the street. I’ll grab something quick.” The clock said 11:57 p.m. My stomach growled like it was protesting the time and at that point I was sure it was loud enough to serve as an alarm clock to a deep sleeper. I slipped on my sweater, signed out at the desk, and stepped outside. The night air was cold and smelled like wet dust. The street was quiet — one of those nights where everything feels half-asleep. The small store ahead had its light still on, buzzing faintly like it was tired too. I walked faster. The sound of my sh







