Chapter 27: Bruised
Xavier's urgent voice cut through the haze of fear that had consumed me, his words echoing in my ears like a lifeline amidst the chaos. The gravity of the situation hit me like a thunderbolt, jolting me out of my paralyzed state. With a surge of adrenaline, I snapped back to reality, my mind racing to comprehend the dire circumstances we found ourselves in.
His firm grip on my shoulders shook me with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. His eyes, once filled with mischief and charm, now bore the weight of a desperate plea. The intensity of his gaze pierced through my terror, igniting a spark of determination within me. I nodded, my voice trapped in a throat constricted by fear, and took in his whispered instructions with a trembling breath.
Every fiber of my being screamed for escape, for survival, as Xavier's words reverberated in my mind. I had to run, run as if my life depended on it. Ignoring the chaos unfolding around us.
Drawing upon every ounce of courage within me, I broke free from Xavier's grasp and turned towards the path he had indicated. My heart pounded in my chest like a wild animal desperate for freedom. With each step, I pushed my trembling legs to their limits, my mind consumed by a singular focus: escape. In the distance I heard Gluttonia's voice. "Bring her back to me alive, I need her alive so she could lead me to the other girl. " Stacy or Glade whatever she said she was must have nodded her head and ran after me, I didn't turn back to confirm but instead ran faster.
The world around me became a blur, a whirlwind of faces and voices blending into a chaotic symphony. I weaved through the crowd, bodies brushing against me. Every instinct screamed at me to keep moving, to stay in the light and seek solace amidst the throng of people. Their presence offered a semblance of safety, a shield against the encroaching darkness.
People gave me strange looks but I didn't care if they thought I was crazy because I knew what I saw and it was real, being crazy felt like a safer thought.
I long ditched my heels and I was running barefooted making sure to stick to the light, I turned and ran in a zigzag motion, trying to throw off anyone who was following me. Deep down I knew my attempts were fruitless but I still had to try anyway. As I raced through the maze of bodies, my breath came in ragged gasps, my legs threatening to give way beneath me. Fear coursed through my veins like a poison, but I clung to the flickering ember of hope within my chest. I refused to succumb to despair, to let the enemy and terror devour me whole.
Time blurred into a fragmented collage of fleeting moments, each step propelling me further away from the nightmare that pursued me. Yet, with every breath, I felt the weight of Xavier's unspoken promise. He would come for me, he would fight for me. And so, I ran, fueled by a desperate faith in his words and the unwavering belief that survival was within my grasp.
In the depths of my exhaustion, I dared to dream of freedom. I yearned for the moment when Xavier would find me, when his unwavering presence would cut through the darkness like a beacon of salvation. Until then, I would continue to run, driven by a primal instinct to survive, to escape the clutches of the malevolence that sought to claim me.
As I rounded the corner, my heart pounding in my chest, a chilling realization gripped me. The once familiar street was plunged into an abyss of darkness, devoid of any source of light. The streetlights, had been extinguished, leaving behind an eerie void that swallowed the surroundings.
The absence of light was suffocating, pressing down on me like a heavy shroud. The darkness seemed to have a life of its own, coiling around me with a malevolent intent. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind, threatening to consume me whole.
I cast a desperate glance over my shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of a flickering light in the distance, a glimmer of hope amidst the encroaching shadows. But there was nothing. The once warmly lit windows of houses stood ominously dark, their inhabitants swallowed by the inky blackness that had descended upon the city.
It was as if the night itself had become a co-conspirator, collaborating with the forces of evil that pursued me relentlessly. The absence of light heightened the sense of vulnerability, stripping away the illusion of safety that the world had once provided. I stood alone in the void, a solitary figure trapped in a nightmarish landscape.
Fear coiled around my heart, constricting with every passing second. Each breath I took was tainted with a sense of foreboding, as if the very air I inhaled carried the weight of impending doom. The darkness whispered sinister promises, its tendrils reaching out, eager to ensnare me within its clutches.
In that moment, the thought of seeking refuge in an open store or reaching a telephone seemed like a distant dream. The darkness had swallowed the city whole, its insidious grasp extending far beyond my comprehension. Trusting in the authorities felt like a faint hope, a gamble against the sadistic forces that lurked in the shadows.
I stood there, a trembling silhouette in the midst of the dark, scary night, searching desperately for a flicker of hope amidst the impenetrable darkness. Every fiber of my being screamed for escape, for a glimmer of light to guide me out of this nightmarish labyrinth.
As the thunder rumbled overhead a memory painfully flashed through my head, "DON'T EVER TAKE OF YOUR RING EVEN IF YOU SHOWER OR SLEEP, IT WILL HELP KEEP THE DEMONS AT BAY."
Demons?
Keep them away?
The weight of confusion and frustration settled heavily upon me, intensifying the dread that already consumed my being. Why hadn't I remembered her warning earlier? Why did it take this dire situation for the fragments of her voice to resurface?
Regret gnawed at my conscience as I replayed the events leading up to this moment. If only I could rewind time, if only I could undo the choices that led me here. The allure of the party, the thrill of venturing beyond the familiar boundaries of Los Angeles—they all seemed like foolish decisions now, reckless moves that had placed me in the clutches of malevolent forces.
The desire to turn back time, to rewrite the sequence of events, burned within me like a fierce flame.
A deep chuckle and the echoes of Stacey's taunting laughter cut through my thoughts, reminding me of the imminent danger I faced.
"Awn, look at our cry baby, " She snickered wickedly. "Why don't you come over here and let me wipe away those tears? "
Her wicked invitation to wipe away my tears filled me with revulsion. I refused to succumb to her sadistic desires.
Easily recognizing the voice I yelled "What do you want from me Stacey? "
"Your head and your soul.' She was quick to reply. "Delivering them to my king will make him squeak in delight. Aah, I wonder if he's going to but one thing I'm sure about is how delighted he'll be, after all he's been looking for you for decades now."
With each passing moment, the weight of the situation bore down upon me, and a desperate plea rose within my soul. I prayed to a higher power, to God, for a miraculous intervention, for a savior to emerge from the shadows and deliver me from this nightmarish abyss.
"Praying won't help you; even God can't interfere with this," she said with a mocking tone, her words hanging in the air like venom.
A sudden thud echoed from behind, jolting me into immediate action. I spun around, my body tense and poised for a fight. If I were to meet my demise at the hands of this deranged woman, I was determined to go down fighting.
"What are you doing?" Stacey asked, her voice laced with confusion.
I locked eyes with her, holding my ground for a few heart-pounding seconds before a sinister smile crept onto her face, a gleam of recognition dancing in her eyes.
"Oh! You're attempting to fight back. How amusing," she taunted, her laughter a twisted symphony that echoed through the air. It wasn't a genuine laugh, but rather a cacophony of strangled sounds.
I surveyed my surroundings anxiously, searching for the source of the haunting voices. All I could discern were eerie shadows, morphing and contorting into menacing shapes.
Fear gripped me as I frantically scanned my surroundings, desperately seeking an escape route from the clutches of imminent death. Engulfed in a sense of futility, I realized Stacey had transformed into the vile creature she truly was.
In that moment, I could empathize with the helpless prey that meets its end. What I couldn't comprehend was why prey always had to endure a tormenting dance before their final moments.
Stacey—or whatever she had become—now squatted before me, fixated on her grotesque nails as if they were a sight to behold.
Silence enveloped us for what felt like an eternity. My toes grew numb, numbed either by the chill in the air or the terror that gripped me—perhaps both.
"What do you want from me?" I finally mustered the courage to inquire.
She snapped her head up, her previous distraction evident in her eyes.
"Oh! You're still alive. Since you're so impatient, let's get on with it, shall we?" she sneered.
I realized my mistake—drawing attention to myself had only intensified the peril. I should have bided my time, hoping Xavier or Zahel, whoever he truly was, would come to my rescue.
Perhaps, if luck favored me, I could reason with her. After all, didn't Gluttonia instruct her to bring me back alive?
"Stacey..." I began, my voice trembling.
Slash!
Her sharp, elongated nails sliced across my face. A gasp escaped my lips as I instinctively clutched my cheek, the searing pain bringing forth a deluge of hot tears. They stung as they traced the fresh wound on my left cheek, leaving behind a trail of anguish.
With trembling hands, I gingerly touched my face. A long, gaping gash marred my once-smooth skin, as if I could feel the contours of my cheekbones through the raw flesh. Blood welled up, drenching the fabric of my dress.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone