"You must be joking!" Massi exclaimed, her eyes narrowing in disbelief as she looked at the bandage wrapped around my stomach. "I'm not joking..." I replied quietly, letting out a sigh. Now, I'd have to endure all her questions and come up with numerous excuses.
Her eyes lit up with excitement. "Do you even care about your friend?" she asked, waddling towards me affectionately and resting her head on my shoulder.
"So, what happened?" Massi inquired with enthusiasm, her curiosity evident in her sparkling eyes.
I anticipated this reaction.
Naturally, I wasn't going to reveal the truth. She had no idea that the bandage on my stomach was a reminder of a darker encounter. Honestly, if I shared everything, I wasn't sure I'd make it through the next day. With a bright smile, I crossed my arms and looked at her.
"Well, I was cooking, and I didn't realize there was a knife precariously positioned at the edge of the drawer that I hadn't properly stored. That's my story," I said nonchalantly, but she shot me a look of confusion and disbelief.
"So the knife fell and hit your stomach?" she asked skeptically, tilting her head. "How did it not hit your head?" My eyes widened at her question, and I couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "I adeptly dodged it, and it ended up slicing my stomach instead." I shrugged, and although she maintained her doubtful expression, she seemed to brush it off.
"Well, at least you're okay…" she said, offering me a reassuring smile.
I am far from okay. I almost bled out when my attacker left me after assaulting me and wounding my stomach. Thankfully, I had a first aid kit and my deceased mother's teachings on emergency care to aid me. It seemed her words had indeed proven useful.
"Of course I'm fine," I assured her with a smile. "You remember my mom..." I said, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah, she's great at treating wounds. She wanted to be a doctor, right?" Massi responded. I nodded in agreement, leaning back against the couch's headboard.
"Yes, but she didn't pass the exam; still, she continued to study human anatomy and medical texts," I said proudly. Massi's blue eyes sparkled, and she chuckled as she settled back on the couch beside me.
"She's the best mom, isn't she?" she asked, and I beamed at her. "Yes," I affirmed. Even though she isn't a wealthy mom with a picture-perfect life alongside a husband, she's still the best and works incredibly hard to provide for me. My memories of my father are scant; the only one that stands out is from when I was six, the moment he left my mom and me.
Massi then rose from the couch and stretched. "Well, I just came to check on you, and it looks like you're doing fine." I caught her playful smirk and rolled my eyes, playfully flicking her forehead, which made her gasp in surprise. "Hey!" she complained, and I simply winked at her.
"You're such a bad friend. I thought you were supposed to take care of me?" I teased, wrapping my arms around her tightly, feeling her squirm slightly. "Noooooo~" she responded with a dramatic whine.
"I really have to go—I've got work, silly..." she protested, and I nodded, releasing my hold on her. Massi adjusted her outfit and gathered her blonde hair into a ponytail. She had mentioned before that she'd found a new job as a criminal investigator at AIM Investigations Agency.
It's a well-known agency with impressive detectives and various police-related activities. Lyan works there, and I still haven't forgiven him for what he did to me—choking me and then taunting me. That handsome jerk.
With a sigh, feeling both defeated and yearning, I wished she could remain after all the chaos of the previous night. I gave her a thumbs up and leaned forward, placing my hands on my lap. "Alright... I suppose I can't keep you here..." I said softly, forcing a sad smile. Messi returned a small smile, poking my cheek. "I want to stay, Rashie... But duty calls." With that, she walked toward the door, offering me one last smile. I waved goodbye, and once again, I was left alone.
Now on my own, my body quaked in confusion. It seemed the fear from last night still lingered within me. My mental state? Honestly, I'm lost. My emotions are at odds, filled with fear and feelings I can't fully acknowledge or suppress.
The house feels incredibly eerie—something I sensed from the start, but this was the first time it genuinely struck me. I wasn't always like this.
Damn that killer. It's all his fault.
My mind is racing with unanswered questions, and the more I dwell on them, the more painful my head becomes. So, I decided to take a break. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the couch, but the feeling of being watched crept over me.
Great.
I shot up and scanned the room. It was still early, and I shouldn't be feeling this way. Curse this trauma. "Who's there?" I shouted, but silence greeted me. Right. Why did I think someone was here? Do I miss him?
Of course, Sherlock. That guy harassed me.
But you kind of liked it, Rashie. Yes, for just a moment. Oh gosh, I did enjoy the sex. But certainly not the part where he left marks on my stomach; that hurt like hell. And he terrified me.
Overwhelmed with stress, I decided to head to the convenience store nearby. They have plenty of snacks, but wait—I'm broke. Damn! Should I steal again? Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it's just the second time.
With my decision made—I'm not the type to back out once I've committed—I left my house and walked down the familiar road. I scanned the neighborhood until I caught sight of the convenience store.
Once I arrived, I glanced at the modest-sized store before stepping inside. I surveyed the array of food on display, and my mouth watered at the sight of spicy cup noodles. If only I weren't broke and under this stupid curse.
When I looked towards the counter and noticed no one around, I craned my neck to see the ceiling's CCTV. This complicates things. How can I manage my plan with a camera capturing my every move? If only I were a model, I could work some magic to make it look away.
But I knew that wouldn't happen. I tapped my foot, feeling impatient. I was starving.
Yet my thoughts of dodging the CCTV faded when I heard the door swing open. I quickly turned to see a tall man entering.
My eyes widened.
It was Lyan.
He was dressed in a snug turtleneck, revealing his toned physique beneath the fabric—his solid chest... solid chest?! Wait, why did I only notice this now? Oh, Rashie, the gods of chests have truly been revealed!
But I really didn't want to talk to him. We had a conflict recently, and I certainly wasn't keen on being choked again. Unless, of course, it were in bed, and I'd end up screaming, 'Choke me, daddy.'
Indeed, a part of me felt the urge to apologize. I wanted to be near him, drawn to him like a magnet, as if he were enticing me into a trap, and I was the foolish mouse thinking 'Oh, cheese!' only to find myself caught. I approached him quickly, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the air. Lyan turned toward me, and our eyes met.
"H-hi!" I stammered, embarrassed. His gaze penetrated me, making me feel exposed. After a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke. Thank goodness for that.
"What do you want?" he asked, his tone cold. The space between us felt vast despite our proximity. I could sense his dislike for me, and I acknowledged it. I managed a small smile and nervously rubbed the back of my neck. "I just wanted to say hi." As I spoke, my stomach growled, and I blushed in response.
"What was that? Was that an engine?" I tried to deflect, but he was too astute. "That was your stomach," he said with a sigh, slipping his hands into his pockets. "What do you want to eat?" His question caught me off guard.
Does he realize I'm broke? I had only shared my 'curse' with him. Wait, this could be my opportunity to make things right and get closer to him. Without thinking, I grabbed his hand and led him to the aisle displaying cup noodles. He appeared surprised but soon relaxed and let me steer him. "So?" he asked in a deep voice. My heart raced. "I want the spicy cup noodles!" I exclaimed cheerfully, bouncing slightly, and I noticed a faint smirk on his face.
"Alright, then grab plenty."
Grab plenty?! Absolutely!
I turned my back to him as I collected a number of spicy cup noodles. His gaze followed me, and the animosity seemed to dissipate.
I lost count of how many I had, but they weren't just noodles. He settled the bill, and now we were walking along the street towards a small park. I savored the taste of strawberry ice cream, enjoying the comfortable silence between us—a stark contrast to earlier. "So, about your curse..."
I turned to him, encouraging him to continue. He nodded and folded his arms.
"I discovered your situation—you're unemployed and have been rejected after thirty job interviews."
That was accurate.
"Wow, your job is a bit unsettling if you can see all that about me," I murmured as we sat on a bench overlooking the lake, finishing my ice cream. "That's just part of my job," he replied with a slight smile that made my heart skip a beat.
"Tell me more about what you've found out about me." I gave him a teasing look, which he seemed ready to accept. "Sure, I can go along with that for now."
He closed his mouth, leaned back, his hands still tucked in his pockets. I noticed how his body stretched as he moved, revealing more of his toned muscles. Oh my gosh.
"Your name is Rashie, you're 25 years old, and you once lived at the Dranchez Residence, where the family cared for you while they were alive. Your mother passed away from stage 4 cancer." I was taken aback by his words, but he continued.
"You went to clubs to make money, flirting with men and then being intimate with them. I must say, you've got quite the talent for flirting. Your bad luck seems to vanish when you engage in that."
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. His job was unsettling.
"You slept with Tyrson, Will, Alex, Alvoc, Charles, and Chris. This behavior of flirting and sleeping with men occurred before the Dranchez family learned about your situation, but once they did and started caring for you like an adopted child, you stopped." He concluded with a raised eyebrow. "So?" he prompted.
All I could manage to say was...
"Wow..." I whispered, noticing him chuckling at my astonishment and brief response. "That's unsettling..." My expression shifted to one of playful disgust as I brushed a strand of hair away from my face.
His laughter erupted, causing my eyes to widen. He looked incredibly charming when he smiled. My heart raced.
"You look so lovely when you smile..." I whispered, and I could see a hint of disbelief in his eyes, as if no one had ever told him that before. He turned to face me, letting out a sigh. "That was unexpected. You enjoy catching me off guard, don't you?" he teased, nudging him playfully as I laughed softly. His gaze then drifted to my stomach.
I awkwardly leaned back against the headboard of the bench, stealing glances at him. Did he notice the bandage peeking out from under my shirt? I certainly didn't want anyone probing into my medical issues, not even my injuries.
"What happened?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice, making my fingers tremble slightly. Recalling the events of last night sent chills down my spine. "Oh, a knife accidentally fell on me and cut my stomach."
"You're fortunate you didn't get hurt on the head," he replied calmly, and I found myself lost in his gray eyes, which were devoid of life yet somehow comforting. "Yeah..." I murmured with a small smile, but then my attention was drawn to a ringing phone. He pulled it from his pocket and excused himself, stepping away from me and creating some distance.
I could only hear his muffled voice, and I watched as his expression grew cold, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine. After the call, he returned with a solemn demeanor.
"I need to leave now, Rashie," he said urgently. It seemed the call was important. I smiled and nodded. "Okay, I wish you luck." He wasted no time, walking away immediately after I spoke. His figure gradually faded from view until he was gone.
Once he left, I rose from the bench and headed home. I opened the door and stepped inside the house, feeling the urge to clean up. It was such a mess. Why had I become so lazy over the past few months? No wonder I felt increasingly uneasy.
I grabbed a broom and began sweeping the floor while humming a tune.
I hope he doesn't return.
The sun was still shining overhead, illuminating the cluttered house my mom left me. As I swept through the living room, an unexpected chill washed over me. I quickly glanced around, but there was no one there. Letting out a sigh of relief, I reassured myself that it was still morning. Calm down, Rashie.
I continued cleaning, but an unsettling sensation lingered, as though someone was watching me; it felt as if the killer was near. I couldn't tell if he was actually there, but it was clear that his presence haunted me. It lingered within me, and I couldn't shake it off, no matter how hard I tried. The more I resisted his presence, the more firmly it clung to me.