Chapter 38 Ashton
ASHTON
The voice was low, guttural, and carried the weight of something inhuman. It reverberated through the room, bouncing off the walls and sending a chill down my spine. I froze, the flashlight trembling in my grip as my pulse hammered in my ears.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” the voice repeated, each word dragging through the air like a blade scraping against stone.
“Bentley,” I growled, his name feeling like poison on my tongue.
The shadows shifted, and a figure stepped into the faint, flickering light.
He was tall—towering, even—with a frame that seemed carved from stone, his presence filling the room like a storm.
His dark eyes gleamed like black holes, empty and consuming, pulling every ounce of warmth from the air.
His face was gaunt, his cheekbones sharp, his mouth twisted into a grin that made my stomach churn.
He was dressed in black, his clothes stained and tattered, as though he had crawled his way out of some abyss. But it was his hands that drew my attention—large, calloused, and covered in faded scars. They flexed as he stepped closer, as if he were imagining wrapping them around my neck.
“Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “The great Ashton Riley. I’ve read about you. All that power, all that control. And yet, here you are, stumbling into my little kingdom like a lost child.”
I clenched my fists, every muscle in my body screaming for action, but I forced myself to stay rooted. Dove’s face flashed in my mind—her smile, her laugh, her tears—and the thought of losing her fueled the fire in my chest.
“Where is she?” I demanded, my voice sharp, barely controlled.
Bentley tilted his head, his grin widening. “Ah, Dove. You’re here for her, aren’t you?” He chuckled, a low, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “She’s quite the fighter. Reminds me of her parents.”
My stomach turned, the memory of what I’d read in his files clawing its way to the surface. The blood, the bodies, the nightmare he had created. And now he had her.
“Where is she?” I repeated, stepping closer, my voice a growl.
Bentley’s grin faded, replaced by something darker, colder. “You think you can take her from me? After all these years, after all the time I’ve spent searching for her, waiting for her?” He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “She’s mine, Riley. Always has been.”
The air in the room seemed to thicken, every breath feeling like a struggle. I could hear the faint scrape of Lilith’s boots as she shifted behind me, but she didn’t speak. For once, even she seemed to understand the gravity of the situation.
“She doesn’t belong to you,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “She never did.”
Bentley’s grin returned, but there was no humor in it. “And she belongs to you? Is that it?” He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “You think you’re her savior? Her hero? Let me tell you something, Riley. Men like us don’t save people. We destroy them.”
I felt the rage bubbling to the surface, hot and consuming. My fists clenched, my nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep my composure. “I’ll ask you one last time,” I said, my voice low, deadly. “Where is she?”
Bentley stopped, his dark eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, there was silence, the kind that pressed against your ears and made your heart race. And then he smiled.
“She’s where she belongs.”
The words hit me like a blow, and before I could stop myself, I lunged at him.
My fist connected with his jaw, the impact sending him stumbling back, but the grin never left his face.
He laughed, the sound echoing through the room like a taunt, and when he straightened, his eyes burned with something primal.
“You’ve got fight,” he said, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “Good. You’ll need it.”
The room seemed to darken, the shadows creeping closer, and for a moment, I thought I saw movement—something slithering just out of sight. Bentley’s grin widened, and he raised his arms, as if welcoming the darkness.
“Let’s see what you’re made of, Ashton Riley,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Let’s see if you’re willing to bleed for her.”
The shadows surged, and the room erupted into chaos.
The shadows lunged toward me as if alive, clawing at the edges of my vision. The room seemed to pulse with darkness, an unnatural force pressing down on me, making the air thick and suffocating. Bentley’s laughter rang out, low and guttural, echoing off the crumbling walls like a twisted symphony.
I darted to the side, narrowly avoiding something—a chair or debris—that flew past my head, shattering against the wall. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as I tried to make sense of the surrounding chaos.
“Come on, Ashton,” Bentley taunted, his voice cutting through the darkness. “You came all this way. Let’s see what you’re made of.”
My flashlight flickered wildly as I swung it toward the sound of his voice, catching brief glimpses of him stalking toward me.
His eyes gleamed, black and empty, and his grin was a jagged line that seemed to stretch too wide, too inhuman.
He moved with a predator’s grace, his body coiled and ready to strike.
“Where is she?” I shouted, my voice raw, desperate.
Bentley didn’t answer. Instead, he lunged at me, fast and brutal.
I barely had time to react, throwing up my arms to block the blow.
His fist connected with my forearm, the impact sending a jolt of pain shooting through me.
I stumbled back, gritting my teeth as I swung my flashlight at him.
It connected with his side, but he didn’t even flinch.
He laughed, a sound so deep and menacing it sent shivers down my spine. “You think you can hurt me?” he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re nothing, Riley. Just another pretender.”
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response.
Instead, I lunged at him, driving my shoulder into his chest and shoving him back.
He staggered, his boots scraping against the floor as he slammed into a rusted metal table.
Tools clattered to the ground, the sharp clang of metal against tile reverberating through the room.
Bentley recovered quickly, faster than I expected. He grabbed a scalpel from the ground and brandished it like a weapon, his grin widening. “Let’s see what’s underneath all that bravado,” he said, his voice low and menacing.
The blade glinted in the faint light as he swung it toward me.
I dodged, narrowly avoiding the edge as it sliced through the air.
My movements were fueled by adrenaline, my body reacting on instinct as I grabbed a broken pipe from the floor and swung it at him.
It connected with his arm, and he snarled, the sound more animal than human.
“You’re wasting time,” he hissed, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Every second you spend fighting me is a second she suffers.”
His words hit me like a blow, a fresh wave of rage and fear surging through me. I swung the pipe again, this time aiming for his head. He ducked, the pipe missing him by inches, and lashed out with the scalpel. The blade grazed my arm, slicing through my jacket and drawing blood.
I hissed in pain, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I drove my knee into his stomach, the force of the blow making him double over. He coughed, the sound wet and guttural, but when he looked up at me, his grin was still there, his eyes wild.
“Good,” he said, his voice a rasp. “I like it when they fight back.”
He lunged at me again, the scalpel slashing through the air. I dodged, grabbing his wrist and twisting it until the blade clattered to the ground. He snarled, his free hand clawing at my face, but I shoved him back, my grip like a vice around his wrist.
“You’re not walking out of here,” I growled, my voice low and filled with venom. “Not after what you’ve done.”
Bentley laughed, the sound echoing in the suffocating darkness. “You think you’re the hero?” he spat, his voice filled with disdain. “You’re just like me, Riley. A monster pretending to be a man.”
I tightened my grip on his wrist, my rage boiling over. “Where is she?” I demanded, my voice shaking with anger.
Bentley’s grin widened, his teeth bared in a twisted mockery of a smile. “Closer than you think.”
Before I could react, he head butted me, the force of the blow sending me stumbling back. Pain exploded in my skull, my vision swimming as I tried to regain my balance. Bentley was on me in an instant, his hands wrapping around my throat as he slammed me against the wall.
The air left my lungs in a rush, my vision blurring as his grip tightened. His face was inches from mine, his eyes burning with madness. “You’ll never save her,” he snarled, his voice low and guttural. “She’s already mine.”
The words sent a surge of adrenaline through me, my body reacting on instinct. I brought my knee up, slamming it into his ribs with all the force I could muster. He grunted, his grip loosening just enough for me to shove him off.
I stumbled forward, gasping for air, and grabbed the pipe from the floor.
Bentley lunged at me again, but this time, I was ready.
I swung the pipe with all my strength, the metal connecting with his jaw in a sickening crack.
He crumpled to the ground, his body twitching as he let out a low, guttural laugh.
“You think this is over?” he rasped, his voice filled with venom. “It’s only just beginning.”
I didn’t wait for him to get up. I turned and ran, my heart pounding in my chest as I searched for Dove. Her name was a mantra in my head, a lifeline I clung to as I moved through the suffocating darkness.
I had to find her. Before, it was too late.