Abigailrapedherinfrontofher. Andwhenhewasdone,hepulledouthisbladeandplacedit under her breasts as she lay there lifelessly.
“I’ll leave a souvenir for you, my sweet doll,” Cravingherskin,hegotup,admiringhernakedframe,bloodiedandlifelessasherblankeyes looked at the sky, tears running down her cheeks. Amara sniffled watching herself. Abigail zipped his pants and walked away.
Amara felt immense hatred for that man. She crouched beside her dismantled frame and cried. Thesynchronizationbetweenthetremblingthundersandtheimpactofthelimpfigure intensifiedthepainshefelt,addinganotherlayerofdespairanddesolationtothealready anguished heart.
It was as if the heavens themselves were mourning the loss and sharing in her grief, their roars a symphony of sorrow and an unwelcome companion to her pain-stricken heart. She flinched when she watched her mirror self slowly standing up. Amra didn’t know what to do. Amara gasped.
"No, no, no..." her eyes moved fearfully to her mirror self as she saw her moving towards the middle of the road from where a car was coming. She couldn't move, like the ground beneath had turned into mud and her feet were cemented there. Her mouth parted as she said something. Amara couldn't hear anything, but she could see.
The car accelerated and Amara screamed as the car hit her mirror-self.
CHAPTER 76
Amara shrieked in fear, she woke up terrified from the nightmare, her body drenched in sweat. Her heart racing and her hands trembling as she tried to catch her breath, the memory of the terrifying images still fresh in her mind. She didn't understand what she exactly saw a nightmare or twisted fragment of her lost memories. It all seemed too real to be called a mere nightmare.
Reality blurred with the remnants of the nightmare, leaving her disoriented and unsure of her surroundings. Anxiety coursed through her veins, a relentless tide threatening to overwhelm her fragile sense of composure. She longed for the comforting embrace of Kaelith.
Yet, despite her desperate yearning for solace, she found herself hesitating to close her eyes again, afraid of what horrors the night may hold. Each moment of wakefulness was a precarious balance between the desire for rest and the dread of reliving the nightmare's torment. She was scared. Terrified. Top of Form
She patted her cheek when she felt something wet trailing down her face. Her eyes widened at the realisation that she was actually crying. She placed her hall hand over her chest, feeling her heart beating rapidly.
Rafael.
His face flashedbefore her eyes,her ownharassedbody, the fear in herowneyes. She shook her head. Her chest clenchedimagining it all happening in real. No matter how much she tried, it all seemed too real. Making her question her sanity.
Sheranherhandthroughherhair,andthenrubbedherface.Whatwasthis?Whatwasthis feeling? Why did she had that dream? And then she stilled.
Abigail.
Amara panicked, all of this was too much to take in. And then it made her remember everything Abigail did to her. The flower shop, kidnapping, forcing himself upon her. She quickly raised the sheets and looked down at herself. She was still wearing the same clothes, and she didn't felt any pain anywhere. Her one wrist still cuffed to the headboard. Did that meant she passed out? Amara was grateful.
When the aftermath of nightmare faded into reality, she observed her surroundings. Same cold room, the sky outside seemed darker. She could feel the cold breeze swaying in through the windows making the curtains dance.
She let out a sigh and laid her head down on the pillows staring at the ceiling. The nightmare was so disturbing that she kept seeing flashes of it in her front of eyes. She was not terrified of seeing the nightmare again, but dreaded of seeing her own body getting molested.
Kaelith.Shemissedhimdeeply.Shewantedtoseehim,evenforabriefestmoment,toknowhe
was alright.
The voice in her head was loud. She blinked, and then blinked again, Amara sighed frustratedly. Theturmoilofemotionshadhershifting.Herheartwantedsomethingelsewhileherhead screamedforsomethingelse.Shecouldn'tunderstandwhatwasrightorwhatwaswrong anymore except for the fact that she was helpless and alone.
*****
Kaelith cursed loudly as he slammed his phone on the wall smashing the device into small pieces. He ran his hand through his hair as he paced down the room.
"Track that fucker down! Call Rafael!" He snarled at Lorcan through the computer screen, whose own expression displayed an equal level of annoyance and rage as him. The visible signs of hisangerwerenotlimitedtohisface — histremblinghandsbetrayedthesheerintensityofhis emotions. It was clear that he was engulfed by an overwhelming desire to destroy something.
“Andwhat?You'llcallhimandhe'lltellyouwhereAmarais?"Lorcannarrowedhiseyes.The latter let out a scoff.
"He will. If he doesn't, I'll fucking hunt him down and tear that little fucker piece by piece." Kaelith scoffed. The video tape he saw earlier still replaying in his head.
The amount of anger and loathe he felt was indescribable. And at that, Amara was kidnapped.
"I shouldn't have left her alone even for a second! Fuck!" He regretted taking her to the shop. He hated he let his emotions take over his head. He should've kept her in the room, locked and caged—where he knew she was safe.
His chest clenched.
But her smile. The sheer beauty of her smile held an inexplicable power over him, captivating his heart and stirring up emotions deep within his soul. It was as if the radiance emanating from her lips could eclipse any darkness that clouded his existence. The mere sight of her lips gently curving upwards was enough to make him willingto go to great lengths, to sacrifice anythingand everything, just for the chance to witness that captivating sight once more.
