Page 8 of Lilies from Hell

“Yeah. We’re definitely seeing the changes,” says Romina, making us all laugh.

My brain seems to calm down with the meaningless conversations and sips of my non-alcoholic gin and tonic. Some guys are already drunk. The only ones left sober are Romina and me. We both curl up on the sofa, ignoring the laughter and shouting of the rest as we catch up.

I move my legs nervously as I feel my bladder full, trying to hold it in as long as possible until I can’t take it anymore. I feel too lazy to move from my seat.

“I’m going to the bathroom for a second,” Jason glances at me and nods.

I get up from the sofa. With the doorknob still in my hand, I remember I do not know where it is.

As I turn around, my eyes fall on someone with brown hair and green eyes, James, and as if he had read my mind, he answers my unspoken question.

“It’s downstairs, to the right of the dance floor. Just follow the signs. It’s not that hard,” James mutters the last part to himself with disdain, turning his attention to my brother before even hearing my thanks.

I can barely take a step without having to dodge someone. I start to think that it wasn’t such a good idea to come here when a girl accidentally spills her drink on me, leaving my collarbone and upper chest sticky and smelling of alcohol.

I go to the bathroom, take care of what I need to, and then try to fix my clothes and check my reflection. It’s all covered in graffiti, scribbles, lipstick, and other things that I’d rather not know about. Then moans coming from one of the bathroom stalls make me run out of there.

On the way back to our place, I feel more overwhelmed and need to get out of that hole. Before I do, I text my brother to let him know I’ll be gone for a few minutes. If I don’t, he’ll probably freak out and search the whole place for me. I sit on the curb, resting my elbows on my knees and holding my face in my hands. My thoughts drift to that look of disdain he gave me on the terrace as I smoke the last of my menthol cigarette.

Determined to forget the disastrous night with a drink, I put the rest of the cigarette in a small metal box and stand up. Just as I reach the door, someone shouts from the back of the bar. That same voice stops abruptly, leaving everything in an eerie silence. With a hand on the gun beneath my skirt, I crept towards the rear of the building, my steps hesitant but prepared to draw the weapon instantly. There are only bins and the occasional roach.

My parents always told me I was very curious and that it would get me into trouble. They’re absolutely right. Hidden behind a green dumpster, I watch the scene unfold. I squint at the two unfamiliar men as they brutally beat the person I assume is the one who screamed for help. I don’t know how the hell he’s still awake when they’re done with him.

Those two start talking about something I can’t make out in a playful tone as they make their way through the crowd. When he appears on the scene, I almost drop my gun on the floor. Compared to the others, he looks huge.

Blending into the night’s shadows like a ruler of darkness, he’s dressed entirely in black, his short-sleeved shirt splattered with what appear to be fresh bloodstains. He has more tattoos than in the photos I have, and the veins in his arms and hands are more pronounced. His characteristic rings still adorn his hands, and his muscles seemed to have grown. Even from here. His eyes draw mine like a cursed magnet, and his face has an almost unreal but dangerous beauty. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end when I notice the sinister look in his eyes.

The slight smile on his lips lets me know he is enjoying the situation.

He looks lethal, like a machine designed to destroy. So different from how I remember him, I fear he will dare to do something to me if he discovers me spying on them, but I cannot stop looking. Everything about him attracts and repels me at the same time. I bite my lip as he approaches the man on the floor. With a sadistic smile, he holds the man’s face, placing his fingers on either side. He leans close to his ear before running his tongue, with something shiny on the tip, along his bloody and bruised cheek. I feel my stomach churn violently when he smiles with satisfaction. My skin turns pale and bile rises in my throat at the sight, but I continue to watch everything from the shadows while I struggle to swallow my vomit.

Then he gets up. One of the men with him says something. He throws his head back, letting out a laugh that makes my hair stand on end and sends shivers down my spine, but my head repeats it repeatedly. It’s disturbingly charming, like the unforgettable melodies in horror movies that draw you in.

I gasp when he stomps on his face with fury and without mercy, drops of blood now splattering his shoes and part of his pants. His blows are so violent that some teeth fly through the air, but that only increases his strength. It’s not until the boy is unconscious that he stops and brushes his hair back with a smile I wish I hadn’t seen. Did he just… kill him? I’m not planning to check if I’m wrong, so I get out of there quickly.

Back in the club lounge, I try to ignore my dismay by washing away the nausea in my stomach with a shot of vodka. The combination of the burning sensation and the anxiety in my stomach makes me want to vomit.

“Are you okay? You look pale,” Jason asks as soon as I enter the room.

“Yeah, I just got a little dizzy down there.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, narrowing his eyes slightly. He puts his hand on my forehead and looks me up and down, searching for something wrong.

“Positive.” I gently remove his hand.

“Anyway, I think it’s better if I go home and rest. You can stay longer.”

“No way. We came together, and we’re going back together.”

As I walk down the stairs, Jason pulls me closer to him. I find it hard to believe that the place remains as crowded as it was when I arrived. At one point, I look up at the upper floor and meet his blue eyes, illuminated by a strange glow. Next to him is a blond guy whispering something in his ear. Then he fixes his blue eyes on me, sending an unpleasant shiver down my spine, and flashes a half-smile before turning around and disappearing into the darkness. What are the chances he saw me? Knowing my luck, a hundred percent.

By the time we get back to the house, it’s already daylight. At seven o’clock, no one else is awake yet, unlike me, who can’t sleep a wink. I toss and turn, replaying the situation, until I finally fall asleep. However, my dreams are haunted by events from the building, leaving me waking up agitated and sweating. The fact that my mind was constantly imagining someone watching me from the corners of the room didn’t help the situation either.

That’s when I wished he had never come back, knowing that from now on my summer break would be anything but peaceful.

To start the day on the right foot after last night, I decide to wear something colourful, so I put on a short black dress with a purple belt. As for my hair, I leave it down to better hide my deplorable state as a newly converted zombie. Then I trot down the stairs to the kitchen with an empty stomach growling.

“Good morning, Maria,” I greet the woman who has always been the cook in the house as I enter. She gives a friendly smile.