Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
M ikhail’s cruel smile lingers for a second, hanging over me like a storm cloud ready to break. His gaze sweeps over me one last time, savoring the fear etched across my face. He doesn’t need to say anything more—his silence is just as terrifying.
Two of his men grab me by the arms again, yanking me to my feet. My legs feel like they’re made of lead, but I force myself to walk, to move with some semblance of dignity as they drag me toward the mansion.
The door slams shut behind us, the echo reverberating through the empty halls, and the air grows colder, heavier, as they pull me down a narrow staircase. The descent feels endless, each step taking me further from the light, from any hope of escape.
Finally, we reach the bottom, and the men throw open a heavy door. The darkness beyond it is thick and oppressive, like a living thing waiting to devour me. I’m shoved inside, stumbling forward as they release me. My knees hit the cold, damp stone floor, the impact jarring through my bones.
The door slams shut behind me with a deafening clang, and I’m plunged into darkness so complete it feels like I’ve been swallowed by the night itself. The silence presses in, broken only by the faint sound of my own ragged breathing.
I push myself up, my hands trembling as they press against the unforgiving floor. The cold seeps into my skin, making me shiver uncontrollably. My eyes strain to adjust to the darkness, but there’s nothing to see—no light, no way out.
For what feels like an eternity, I sit there, alone in the dark, the weight of my situation crashing down on me. The minutes stretch into hours, and I lose all sense of time. Hunger gnaws at my insides, a dull ache that grows sharper with each passing moment. My throat is dry, my lips cracked, but there’s no relief here. Only the endless cold and the suffocating darkness.
After the first couple of days, time loses all meaning. The days blur together, each one a repeat of the last. The only sign of life is the occasional tray of food slid through a small slot in the door—barely enough to keep me alive.
At night, when the cold becomes unbearable, and my stomach feels like it’s eating itself from the inside out, I sing. It’s the only thing that keeps me from losing myself in the dark, the only way to drown out the silence that threatens to drive me mad. Just like Grandma would drive me crazy, taunting me through the closed door.
“In the dark where shadows creep,
Little firefly takes her leap,
Wings aglow, she dances light,
Unaware of the spider’s sight.”
My voice is soft trembling, but it’s all I have. The words echo off the stone walls, filling the empty space with a haunting melody. It’s a song from my childhood, a rhyme my father used to sing to me when we played in the dark.
“Where shadows sway, and critters play,
A spider waits to snatch its prey,
Spinning webs, so soft, so tight,
Lurking there, just out of sight.”
Back then, he was the spider, a playful predator chasing his little firefly through the night. But the spider in my life has changed over time. Milo became the spider who watched in the dark.
“Through the silence creeps a fright,
A spider stalks in the dead of night,
Its fangs so sharp, its timing right,
Trapping prey in webs spun tight.”
Leone became the spider who kept me locked away, who tried to protect me but ended up trapping me instead. His love was a web, one that bound me to him, kept me safe, but also kept me from flying free.
“Little firefly, don’t you stray,
The spider’s web blocks your way,
Wings once free, now caught, bound tight,
Little firefly ceases flight,”
But Mikhail... Mikhail is the spider that will bite. He’s the one who will sink his fangs into me and watch as the light fades from my wings.
“Fading fast, she’s lost her fight,
The spider looms with shadowed might,
A single bite, and out goes her light.”
My voice wavers, the last word hanging in the air like a final breath. The darkness seems to press in closer, suffocating me, but I keep going, even as my voice fades to a whisper.
I barely finish the last line when the door creaks open, a sliver of light cutting through the dark. I stop singing, my breath catching in my throat as I squint against the sudden brightness. A figure steps into the doorway, and even before my eyes adjust, I know who it is.
Mikhail.
His silhouette is a dark shadow against the light, his presence filling the room with the promise of violence. He doesn’t speak at first, just stands there, watching me with cold, calculating eyes.
Finally, he steps forward, the door closing behind him with a soft click. “I see your song has changed,” he says, his voice low, almost mocking. “From a creeping spider to one that bites. How fitting.”
I don’t respond, my throat too tight with fear and anger to form words. Instead, I hold his gaze, refusing to show him the terror that’s threatening to swallow me whole.
“Leone wants proof you’re still alive. He wants to hear your voice,” he tells me.
My heart pounds in my chest. Each beat a drum of impending doom. Mikhail’s words hang in the air, a promise of the suffering to come, and I know there’s no escape from this. Not for me. Not for Leone.
“So it’s time I make you scream firefly.”