Chapter 19
If I believe I’m strong, then it’s true. If I believe I can do it, nothing can stop me. If I believe I’m going to die, I will walk myself to my deathbed.
I tried looking for the news, but there was only music. Norman began nagging like an old man and I stopped tinkering with the radio.
We were close to the manor now. It looked massive, clearly Victorian with gothic details.
Time wasn’t too kind to it. It gave the building both a grim and solemn look.
Towers with tall spires, arched windows and gray-beige stone that clearly got tarnished over the years and looked almost black now intensified the overall impression.
Stained statues with washed out faces and cracked bodies, moss-covered attic and walk-out balconies with banisters only sharpened the impression. The entire facade of the house was aged and reminded me of an old man.
The front part of the house had three floors, while the back half had four, maybe even five. The house was drowning in weeds and overgrowth, making it look abandoned.
I got out of the car and watched Norman take my things out.
We headed to the house and he smirked, his smile reaching only the left corner of his lips.
“Five minutes, huh?”
“Math was never my strong side. I’m a philosopher.”
Smiling back to Norman, I turned my head and saw him .
My body froze and tensed up, feeling the danger radiating from him. His eerie look seemed to suck out my smile and any joy I felt, filling me with fear and tension instead.
The reaper’s hands were in his pockets. At that moment his face showed clear signs of irritation, growing malice and glimpses of disgust.
“You’re late.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but he beat me to it.
“Dinner’s ready.”
He turned around and headed to the dining hall, his shoes clicking on the marble floor.
I followed him meekly, trying to hide how nervous I was.
The dining hall was large. One could easily throw a party for two hundred guests in a hall like this.
My gaze fell on a small table covered with a tablecloth in the middle of the room. It was more suited for one, rather than two people. There were napkins and silverware on it.
The room was dead silent. The clicking of our shoes were the only sounds breaking it.
He pulled my chair back to help me take a seat. Then took a seat across from me.
I crossed my right leg over the left and began to swing it.
We were sitting too close to each other. Close enough for me to see his face clearly and feel his heavy scent.
He stared at me without a word.
I looked away, taking in my surroundings. I was so nervous, I couldn’t concentrate on the interior.
Should we be talking? Was I supposed to say something? Or could we just dine together in silence and leave?
I turned back towards him. His eyes were no longer burning holes through me. He slowly looked me over. His gaze stopped at my neck, right where the wound on my shoulder was. Then his raven black eyes met mine .
His gaze and appearance both frightened and tantalized me.
I wanted to look back at him just as boldly and daringly.
I wanted to let my gaze slide all over him just as blatantly, studying his appearance.
Sure, he scared me, but I was also terribly curious about the details of his character.
Obsidian eyes, coal black eyebrows, raven black hair, the harmony of black shades drew my attention, letting me know I’d never met a man like him before.
I couldn’t bear looking him in the eye because of how intense his gaze was. His eyes could see into me deeper than I dared to look myself. The void of his gaze could drag my soul out and tear it to shreds.
I felt the tension and pressing silence in the air. They made my anxiety worse.
Suddenly, the door opened and my knee kicked the table.
The silverware clinked, making him frown.
I wanted nothing more than for this dinner to end.
Marta slowly rolled in our meal plates and a bottle of semi-sweet wine on a squeaky trolley.
She placed them on the table silently. She opened the bottle and poured the wine.
The soft sound of wine filling the glasses broke the silence.
I gave her a small smile.
“Thanks.”
She nodded and left.
The reaper was watching me closely, like I was some kind of a zoo animal.
Scraping the knife on the plate, I cut a piece of meat and shoved it in my mouth.
I had no appetite.
I was full on my anxiety.
“Did you get everything you wanted?”
I struggled to swallow the meat I’d nearly choked on when he spoke .
“Yes.”
I avoided his gaze.
Picking up my glass of wine, I took a big gulp.
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
My heart was thumping violently, hurting me.
What did I have to tell him? That I was rummaging through his desk today? That I took all my old stuff because I refuse to wear the clothes he bought me? That we spent more time in the dorms than we should have? That I left a note for Bell? Or that my phone was in my underwear right now?
I stared at the meat on my fork.
“I don’t have anything to say,” I uttered under my breath.
I raised the fork and pushed another piece in my mouth.
I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to eat and go back to my room. I had to hide the phone and find a charger.
The food was delicious, but I was too nervous to enjoy and savor the vivid taste of the warm meal.
He ate like we were dining with the Queen. Slowly cutting each piece and bringing it to his mouth with utmost care. I could see his teeth press on the fork, his lips sliding on the metal. He picked his glass up gracefully and took a sip of the red liquid.
My right leg went numb. I moved it down and accidentally brushed against his ankle.
He looked up at me. For a few seconds it seemed like his eyes got darker than usual.
I took the glass and turned my head to the door.
When would Marta return? This was my last sip, and I needed more.
I emptied my glass, placed it back on the table and remembered there actually was something I wanted to ask him.
“I’m your first.”
He laughed and I could see his genuine smile for the first time. It wasn’t just beautiful, it was intoxicating, thrilling. It made me want to forget who he was and what he’d done. I bet this smile helped him win over some important people and got most girls to give him whatever he wanted.
It softened his grim features and made him look a lot more humane. He looked so fine, I wanted to touch his beauty like a rare painting hanging on a wall. And his deep laugh was so charming, it made me crave hearing him speak.
I felt gross. The man before me was a murderer, and this was what I was thinking of?
I swallowed to fix the dryness in my throat and said,
“There were no girls here before me. I’m the first.”
His face returned to its usual expression, and I thought I imagined everything I heard and saw only a moment ago.
“You are the first.”
“There has to be a reason. Why was I...”
“There’s no reason.”
That’s right. Anyone could’ve taken my place.
The girls in the basement were captured before me. So, this wasn’t about me at all. The truth was, one crazy morning he woke up and decided he could do this.
“Why a woman? Why not a man?”
I watched his long fingers run up and down the stem of his glass.
“Which do you think is best, to die or go missing?”
Marta entered the room at that moment. The wheels on her trolley weren’t running smoothly, making obnoxious squeaking noise as it rolled instead.
She took the plates, poured us some more wine and left the bottle.
How I longed to snatch it and drink it down to the last drop, pass out and wake up back in the dorms, thinking all this was just a bad dream.
Marta left, closing the door behind her .
“Neither,” I half-whispered.
“Neither?” he asked loudly,
“Zoe, your naivete is astounding. Unfortunately, the world will make you choose. And if you don’t make one, the choice will be made for you.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“And you didn’t answer mine.”
“I don’t want to play your games.”
He grinned, baring his straight white teeth.
“Dear Zoe, you already are.”
I grabbed the bottle, so did he. I tried pulling it towards me, but his grip was vice-like.
“You already know the answer. You made the choice for me.”
I pulled the bottle.
“I’m gonna have to work on the stubbornness.”
“You do that.”
I could see a shadow of irritation on his face, and yet his eyes twinkled with amusement.
Was he driving me crazy on purpose?
“Are you gonna let me have a drink?”
“Are you gonna drink from the bottle?”
“No.”
“Then let it go and let me pour you more wine.”
“I can pour myself wine just fine.”
“You’re in my home. Sitting on my chair. At my table. You’re eating my food and drinking my wine. You’re wearing the clothes I bought you. I saved your life. And now your life belongs to me. Your existence depends on me. On my mood. So, maybe you shouldn’t make me angry?”
I was seething, my anger ready to burst.
His eyes mirrored mine. They were brimming with anger.
I let go of the bottle and rested my hands on my knees, gripping a napkin .
A smug smile tugged at his lips.
He was pleased to see I caved in.
He poured me more wine and was about to clink glasses, but I drank mine in one swig.
“Saved me, you say? You’re my savior now? This doesn’t look like my house, and you don’t exactly remind me of my family.”
“This is your home now, and I am the only one you’re gonna run to whenever you need a shoulder to cry on.”
“I’d rather drown myself in my own tears than cry on your shoulder,” I spat.
He kept smiling.
He was no longer hiding how much he enjoyed this.
“Zoe, are you sad you didn’t get to die back at the university now? Or that you escaped from the line of your classmates as they got slaughtered? Or that you couldn’t save that poor girl that got her head chopped off? Or maybe that, because of you, your mother is now in a coma?”
My eyes went wide, I grabbed his glass and threw the wine in his face.
I grabbed a knife and was about to stab it deep into his rotten heart. He got behind me in a blink of an eye. He grabbed me by the hair, knocked my chair out of the way and pushed my face into the table, making me gasp.
The plates clanked. Some of them got knocked on the floor, shattering into pieces.
He twisted my arms behind my back so hard I thought they’d break. I let go of the knife right then.
The side of my face and my chest were pressed into the table, while my butt was pushed up, bumping into his groin. He had my hair in an iron grip with one hand, the other holding my arms behind my back.
I could feel the spilled wine soaking my silk dress. My anger was now mixed in with fear .
“I have been kind enough, haven’t I? I let you pick up your things.
Allowed you to have another taste of the freedom you were used to.
I even let you leave that silly little note in vain hopes of getting rescued.
If this is how you thank me for it, I’m gonna have to teach you the right way to do it. ”
Fear ran through my body like a lightning bolt. My throat felt dry.
Fucking Norman.
“Go to hell.”
I tried to wiggle my way out, but his grip was firm. He gripped my hair tighter and I screamed.
His warm body covered mine, his lips coming too close to my ear as his breath blew hot air at it.
“Did your fear disappear so fast because you forgot I could hold you like this every day? You’re gonna stay like this day in, day out until I feel like taking your life. It could be today or in a week. I will do everything possible to make you beg me to do it sooner.”
The venom in his voice chilled me to the bone.
I wasn’t struggling anymore. I was afraid.
“I’m gonna have to teach you quite a few things.
You still live in hope. In hope of escaping, of meeting your family, friends, going back to your studies, and you never will.
It’s time you faced the reality. One important thing I’m gonna teach you is to answer my fucking questions.
I’m going to ask you a question one last time. Do you want to be missing or dead?”
“Missing.”
“Do you like knowing I could do anything I want to you? That your entire worthless life belongs to me from now on? That no one’s coming to save you?
And that, once I’m fed up with you, I’ll get rid of you with one lazy wave of my hand?
And once I get rid of you, your body will never be found.
That I could wipe you out of existence? ”
Fear overcame me. My whole body was trembling. I could barely breathe.
“No.”
My voice was shaking.
All my hatred melted away like fog.
“You don’t get to have a choice anymore. My desires are your choices. My future is your choice. The choice is your faith. And I am your religion.”
A strand of hair fell on my face, covering my eyes. He let go of my hair and gently tucked the loose strand behind my ear.
I could feel my back break into a cold sweat.
“I’m sorry.”
My voice was shaking and the apology sounded garbled.
“Louder.”
“I’m sorry.”
I yelled out for the whole room to hear.
“I like it when you behave, Zoe.”
He stroked my hair and let go of my hands.
I didn’t get up right away. Fear paralyzed me.
I slowly got to my feet, staggering to stand in heels.
I looked down and was about to walk out when he grabbed my wrist roughly.
Our eyes met.
“Where do you think you’re going? We aren’t done yet.”