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Dear Diary,
I think my daughter killed someone today. Athena was at the top of the stairs looking down, when the butler was down below... dead. There was something in her eyes. A wicked smile on her face.
It was an accident her father was quick to say. A deadly, deadly, accident.
But dear God, I think my daughter killed a man.
I’m afraid of what this means for the future. I can tell Athena is changing, becoming colder and more distant. Her father is trying to protect her, but I fear he may be enabling her dark tendencies. Even if she didn’t mean to do it, she could be capable of doing so again.
And that terrifies me.
I know she’s not the same little girl she used to be. She’s taken a strange liking to dark things, and I’m concerned that her fascination with the forbidden might be slowly leading to something more sinister.
I’m afraid to leave her alone, so I always keep her in my sight. But even then, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. It’s almost as if I’m being followed, and I can feel Athena’s eyes on me even when I’m alone.
Every day I watch her with a growing dread, my heart aching at the sight of the viper in the garden she’s becoming. I know now that it is only a matter of time before her wickedness is revealed. I can only pray that it doesn’t spell disaster for us all.
I flip to the beginning of the journal to see if any dates were written but don’t find anything to answer my questions. When was this? How old was Athena? Did she really kill the butler?
Athena has always been terrifying. She went to my school the same time I did. We were only one year apart, but everyone knew not to mess with her. And not just because she was a Godwin, but because that girl was terrifying. Even at a young age, I seriously doubted any grown man would mess with her.
Does Athena know what Phoenix is planning with me, that he’s here punishing me, and then plans for me to have his baby? Maybe she’s part of it. Maybe some of this is her idea. Or maybe the real truth is that if she had her way, I’d be dead. My sister and I would be dead.
Nothing about this diary entry tells me about Phoenix, however, and I so desperately want to read about things that may help me start to understand him better. Maybe I’m pressing my luck, maybe I’m tempting the fates, and Phoenix will grow suspicious and catch me in the act, but I keep reading.
Dear Diary,
Troy made me go to The Vault tonight. I had heard stories that dark, debauched sex acts occurred in the old 19th-century bank but didn’t know if the tales were fact or fiction.
I’m embarrassed to even be writing this story in my journal, but then again, I never want to forget this night.
As I walked up to the entrance, I could feel an eerie presence that seemed to permeate the air. The old wooden doors creaked as Troy opened them, and a gust of cold air rushed past us. Inside, I felt a chill run down my spine as I saw the various sights and sounds of the old bank. Everywhere I looked, there were dark figures sitting in the shadows, and strange music emanating from somewhere in the depths of the building.
As I continued to walk, I heard a low, guttural laugh coming from the corner of the room. I couldn’t make out who it was, but the laughter was sinister. I felt a chill in my bones as Troy grabbed my hand and led me further into the building.
We entered through the locked door and down the winding staircase. The air was musty and heavy with secrets, and I felt like I was being watched by unseen eyes. We reached the bottom of the stairs to find an ornate room filled with couches and a large red-velvet bed in the center.
The atmosphere was different here. Instead of the electricity that usually crackles in the air before a wild party, there was an eerie stillness that seemed to hang over everything.
As my eyes adjusted, I saw the people in the room—the women in the room—were all naked. Some were on their hands and knees being led around by a collar. Others were pleasing the men by sucking their cocks.
Troy led me further into the room, and I couldn’t help but feel I had entered a realm of forbidden pleasures and sinister desires. My heart raced as I looked around and realized that Troy had brought me to a fetish club. This wasn’t just an ordinary sex club—it was a dark, twisted place where desires of all kinds were being explored and acted upon. I could feel myself getting aroused, even in the presence of such depravity.
