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He growls, and it sounds horrifying. Unnatural. Unhuman.
"Malik? Malik!" I scream as he walks toward me. "Malik, stop!" I shout.
He doesn't stare at me, or maybe he does. I can't tell when the entirety of his eyes is a milky white.
I scream at the top of my lungs as he grabs my hair, his long fingers tangling beneath the tresses. He pulls me up, and I cry out from the pain as he drags me across the room. I curl my fingers around the frame of the door, but his strength is too much, and they pop off effortlessly.
My palms slap against the dark floors and make an obnoxious squeak as they drag across the tiles.
"Please! Please! Malik! I'm sorry!"
He doesn't say a word, just another low growl emitting from deep in his chest. It's manly, deep, and sounds like a vicious animal buried beneath his ribs.
He suddenly bends down, wrapping his hands around my waist and hauling me over his shoulder. My stomach drops on his muscles like a fucking bag of potatoes, and I let out anoomphof pain. He steps into his room, another growl breaking from his chest as he faces his bed.
With a quick pivot, he makes his way to his window. I grab onto his arms. "Please. I'm so sorry, Malik. I'll go get your clothes right now. Just, please, put me down!"
His fingers dig into my hips painfully. He lifts me off him like I'm nothing, suspending me in the air above him. He looks absolutely terrifying. The bags underneath his eyes are pronounced around the whites of his eyes.
He looks like hell. He looks like death.
A shiver rolls through me, and a tear leaks out, sliding down my face. "Please," I whisper.
"You fucked with the wrong person," he growls, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
It's Malik's voice… but it's not.
Malik's voice came from his throat, but there was a second voice laced with his. Something raspy, gritty. Like his throat has been overworked for thousands of years.
It didn't sound human. Not at all.
Before I have a chance to respond, I'm suspended from the window, Malik's fingers around my waist the only thing holding me up. I close my eyes, not wanting to look down. This place, it's bigger than a house. It's a castle. The second story is more like the fourth story of a regular house. I wouldn't survive the drop
He spins me around, and I move to grab the window, but he grabs my wrist, letting my other dangle in the air.
I swing to grab the window again, but he pushes me out further, too far. Too fucking far.
I glance up at him, and he smiles, his canines sharp against his upper lips, the whites of his eyes so desperately terrifying that it takes my breath. I can't do a thing besides scream.
"Only death can hear your screams." His voice comes again, the two-toned voice that sounds half like him, and half animal.
"M-Malik, if you're in there, please stop this. I k-know you wouldn't do this to me. I know you wouldn't," I cry, tears streaming full force down my cheeks at this point.
"Say hello to death, Vera." The voice, not at all Malik's this time, growls at me, and then he releases me.
I let out a scream as my hand flies forward, my fingers curling around the windowsill. I can barely catch my grip, and my fingers instantly begin to slide.
"Help me! Somebody, help me!" I scream.
Malik—or what was Malik at one point—stares at me, a smile on his face that doesn't at all look like Malik's.
My fingers grow weak, and I let out a choked sob. "Malik! Please help me!"
I watch as he blinks, once, twice, three times. The white fades from his eyes and his dark orbs come into view just as my fingers slip. The evil smile falters, his lips furrowing into a confused frown.
I let out a cry as I fall, closing my eyes as the inevitable hits.
Thick fingers wrap around my wrist, and I glance up, opening my eyes and seeing Malik leaning halfway from the window, his dark eyes alight with worry and terror. He extends his other hand down. "Grab my hand." I do as he asks, swinging my arm and wrapping my fingers into his palm.
