Lahat ng Kabanata ng To Put A Leash On The Master: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

SONG FIT: DYNASTY ~ MIIA.Grave silence reigns between us. I see it in his eye too.The look on his face tempts me. It makes me want to smash something, maybe his head? I don’t know.I hate that it doesn’t seem like he feels remorse no matter how much I push, that his words and the way he’s staring at me don’t match.How can he say things while doing nothing to prove it? Like… he has this one expression and tone for every word that comes out of his mouth. It’s even beginning to feel like he’s mocking me, or competing for the most bored person on earth.As for his posture, well, what will I say? He just crosses his hands behind his back and cocks his head. I mean, are we joking here, are we filming a fucking movie?“Hear me out. I beg you,” he mutters, trying to step forward before I thrust the scissors toward him.“No!” I snap. “If I hear one more lie from you, Hunter, I swear… I SWEAR I’ll drive this into your damn heart!”My voice still quivers. But this time it’s not just pain and r

The elevator would have been better closed than not.Maybe the system has malfunctioned, or I’m the problem. After all, I will not deny that my head is scrambled, torn between two choices; to go up or... Fuck it!Going up is the best option to end this restlessness once and for all. But so many things would go wrong, especially as my girl is there and this rage in me wants to stab thorns in her flesh.I should not let that happen, should I? I have to protect her, even if it takes me killing myself, which I bloody can’t!Her face, artless and mild with sparkly eyes, flashes before me. She is standing beside the panel, signaling for me to get up. And I do. She then motions me to approach. I still do, but miss the part where she frowns, blood streaming down her eyes as anger swirls in them alongside hate—massive disgust.The scissors in her hand are not far from my neck. They make contact, yet the pain is not even near as intense as what I am feeling from the sight itself. And I’m taken

/ HEIDI /TWO DAYS LATER.Seeing another version of myself telling me shit about a damn Lock whenever I close my eyes to sleep might be another level of anxiety, or someone playing dirty with my fucking head.Not just a graceful me and the tales of a Lock. It goes on to this strange cavern where a growl follows me… chases me, actually. And each time, it ends with the shadow of a winged creature posing to look menacing.A few minutes ago—I still can't wrap my head around it—all my nightmares seemed to have agreed to shut me down. Bitter memories, which left a print in my mind, continuously renewed every faded ink.December twenty-eighth—the worst day of my life.Every time I close my eyes, I see the sparks and the night that leaked ashes and snow. The shudders. Chills. Fear. Fear that cannot be measured with any other. And now, while there is still some piece of it, I’m exhausted—tired of the fact that Hunter hasn’t shown up for two days.Not that I want him to. I’m just scared he’s not

Each person holds out something in our direction: some an image of their deceased, others a banner with the words ‘Justice for (...)’ written on it. Different names, different faces, different pain. My vision gets blurry. Voices whisper inaudibly in my head as it aches. A thousand needles prick my skin, hellbent on deactivating autonomic nerves while triggering another—emotions, flocking in like a swarm of disturbed fish. And if Zavere hadn’t interfered, I would have been lost in the maze that’s my own mind.“Hey, come on. Look at me,” he whispers, the hand on my thigh caressing. But then he makes a bigger gesture; facing me, leaning in and grabbing my chin to turn my face toward his. “Trust me, Heidi, you’ll be fine.”I shake my head continuously. “I… I don’t think so…” What Zavere said is an underrated lie. This anxiety’s always going to be there, haunting me, reducing the woman I thought I was with every attack. So, no, Zavere. I will not be fine.“Shh. You’ve just got to breathe

“He lives, I feel it,” Zavere says after taking his time. “He’s alive, but there is silence. He doesn’t feel anything… massive.”I don’t get what he’s trying to say, but I guess he does have some connection with his twin? “You feel something when he does?”“Not just something. It has to be big. Like an intense pain or pleasure.” More like the intense pain of his victims, and the intense pleasure of the motherfucker.“Maybe you should have felt his ‘intense hatred’ when he committed that murder?” I ask calmly, looking down at my soup while stirring it with a spoon. However, when I look up, I feel like my food could hang in my throat as I find Zavere staring at me with a blank face, again. That rouses my rage. “Oh, you did, and you said, ‘Oh hey! He’s my brother! He’s having a little fun with some dummy humans, so why not?’” I realize I’ve just caused a commotion. All eyes are now on us. Jeez! What is wrong with me? Why do I keep blaming Zavere? Why do I blame every fucking thing in t