22. | Heart

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Stepping inside the hotel room, I notice how quiet it is

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Stepping inside the hotel room, I notice how quiet it is. The door clicks shut behind me, my dress over my shoulder.

It's too quiet.

"Fluffy?" I call, my gaze scanning my surroundings for anything out of place. I take a step forward. "Fluffy."

I step inside the opening to the actual room, leaving the hallway. Nothing seems to be out of place. I walk toward my bed, but I freeze at the sight of Killian collapsed on the floor.

"Oh my god." I whisper. I drop my dress, not caring if it ends up wrinkled. I rush to his side, pressing a hand to the side of his face. I turn his head toward me, looking for any sign of injury.

I feel a slight pang in my chest as I scan his torso, finding a wound on his side, near his lungs. I rip open his shirt to inspect the wound, pushing my hair behind my ear when it falls in my face. It looks like a knife wound.

I tap his face numerous times, trying to get him to regain consciousness. "Killian. Wake up." I hiss. "Wake up!"

"Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up." An unfamiliar voice speaks from behind me. I snap my head to them, a girl standing in a black dress that reaches her knees, lace trimming the edges, a black corset that ties in the front, leggings with holes throughout them, and black boots. Her hair's black along with her makeup, but her eyes are blue.

Dark Soul.

"Who are you?" I stand up, a glare on my face.

"None of your concern." She tilts her head, her hands on her hips.

"What did you do to him?" I step toward her.

"I came here for you. Unfortunately, he got in my way." She shrugs after looking over my shoulder at him.

I glance at Killian. "What do you want from me?"

She takes a moment to speak, drawing out the suspense. "Your heart."

A force sends me flying back, pinning me against the wall. An invisible hand wraps around my throat, choking me and capturing me against the wall. I claw at my neck, gasping and writhing against the wall.

"You know, it's pathetic. Watching you gasp and writhe against the wall, begging for air. Watching you bend to my will." She laughs with her mouth closed, a smile on her lips. "You have no idea how good it feels to watch you beg for mercy. Even without words."

Sounds of struggle leave my lips, but I can't form any words. She glitches in her place before she appears in front of me. She reaches her hand up and drags a pointed, black fingernail down my cheek.

"Such a pretty face." She mumbles thoughtfully. "It'll bring me such joy when I ruin it." I can't even reach for the knife strapped to my thigh cause she'll notice.

The invisible grip on my neck tightens, cutting off my air supply. It sounds like rubber, or vine. The hotel shakes as I slip on my control. Black starts to fill the edges of my visage, my body running out of oxygen.

One of the Last | Book 3 | ✔Where stories live. Discover now