...

I stood at the top of the grand staircase, my silk gown feeling like a leaden shroud. The mansion, usually a place of opulence and comfort- well it was today, had transformed into a foreboding labyrinth of fear. The lights were dimmed an indication that people had been off to sleep, casting eerie shadows on the mahogany-paneled walls, I wasn't sure whether it was my imagination playing tricks on me or it was really there neither did I care at the moment I had bigger problems to worry about

Crystal chandeliers loomed overhead, their soft, ghostly glow illuminating the marble floors with a haunting allure. Deep down I hoped a ghost, ghoul or anything of the nature of supernatural would pop up and stab me to my death, anything would be better than facing that man. My head felt the absence of my bonnet that I had removed before leaving the bedroom, it was cold all of a sudden.

My trembling hand clutched the ornate banister, its polished wood sending shivers through my fingers. As terrified as I was I noticed the stark change in the design of the house as we had reached this side of the house. Mr. Worthington, our butler, appeared beside me, a stoic figure in his impeccable attire. His face, as inscrutable as the statues that lined the hall, betrayed only by a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes when he looked at me.

"Madam," he whispered, "if you'd follow me." A reminder of sort. I was escorted from my room at this hour by him with word from Lachlan commanding my presence.

Moments before Mr. Worthington had entered I had been a bit mad at the Viking man's absence, it had been a very slow but fast day with the events of yesterday replaying on my mind I couldn't help it neither could I help the smile that came with it, the things that had upset me forgiven and forgotten. Lachlan had left in the morning, leaving me with my thoughts. I had been annoyed by his absence but now I regretted that.

His study awaited at the base of the stairs, a room that had once symbolized wisdom and sanctuary. But tonight, it held a sinister secret - the underground basement, a place of unimaginable horrors. I could feel the air change as I descended the stairs. Goosebumps slowly covering my body.

I couldn't stop my mind from wondering, did I maybe do something wrong. Why would he call me out here if he wasn't going to kill me or hurt me somehow between the two the first option felt better than the latter. I contemplated on running back but knew better. Plus where would I run to, who would help me.

Every step down felt like a descent into madness. The fear of Lachlan's anger weighed heavy on my heart, as I kept on asking myself what did I do wrong, he wasn't even here today and kept to myself for most of the day. The thick scent of blood overtook my senses sending shivers down my spine, I wasn't even inside the room yet I could feel the hot tears gather at the back of my eyes.

My footsteps faltered, and I clutched my chest, overwhelmed by a suffocating dread. Mr. Worthington, a pillar of support, steadied me without touching me in any way. He was a man who was very careful and calculated his every move maybe that's why he was still alive and usually went where Lachlan was. He knew the man Lachlan was, even as he led me down here his robotic eyes had a shred of sympathy in them.

Finally, we reached the heavy oak door of Lachlan's study, and it was clear this was no ordinary study. It concealed the entrance to his dark basement: a place where he committed unspeakable acts, just like back home- he clearly had a taste.

With a sombre nod, Mr. Worthington gestured for me to enter. My heart raced as I crossed the threshold, closing my eyes for a second. I felt the presence of Mr. Worthington disappear. I had counted on him as if his presence would be any different, as if if the Viking man decided to rain down his wrath on me he would be able to help me. I bit my lip at the voice telling me to turn and run. Tempting but foolish.

What my eyes saw left me frozen as endless tears ran down my cheeks. I was mute. My stomach turned as my body started to tremble. I could feel the contents of my stomach fighting to come up but my body was too afraid to as my eyes connected with Lachlan standing in all his glory, as he watched me, analysing me with his powerful gaze.

It was what was around and on him that made me almost take a step back. Pieces—actually limbs—of people—so many people—blood was all over, and the quietness of the room was maddening. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up with the top three buttons of his shirt popped open—he was covered in blood. I could see it on his face and his hair. His calmness amidst it all scared me, and the satisfaction shinning in his eyes made me gulp.

My hand moved to my mouth as I held in my sobs trying to keep myself together as my eyes noticed in one of his hands he held on to one of the heads as if it were a ball, only he held it in a way that his hand was where the neck was once holding onto the lower jaw. I closed my eyes trying to get a grip on myself. This man was the devil.

The contrast between the calm and quiet in the room compared to what was in here was horrifying. My nose was blocked from all the silent crying as I started breathing using my mouth, trying to count in my head so I wouldn't pass out. The thick smell of blood and death wasn't helping.

"I apologise, for taking so much of time. As you can see, I have been a bit occupied, love." He said not moving as inch, and as I literally broke down in front of him, my chest moving up and down as I tried to focus on him, my eyes strayed for a second, connected with yet another severed head on the ground- there were so many heads.  He then moved aside and only now had I noticed the table behind him, the silence in the room was drowned out by my sobs. I couldn't stop.

"Why are you still so far from me?" It was a simple question, yet it sounded like a threat, and I knew better than to take it lightly. The thought of being next to him and the sight all around me was nauseating. I could feel my knees start to fail me as my stance weakened. My mind refused to believe this, but at the same time, it felt very real. I didn't know what to do.

I didn't know what to do with myself; I didn't even know what was going on. I was afraid to live or breathe, terrified of setting him off in any way. I didn't want to get hurt, and I didn't want him to hurt me again. The last time I was in a basement with him, he scarred me for life instinctively I ran my hand over the other as I bit my lip.

"I-" I almost collapsed as the thought of him hurting me like that again crossed my mind. I couldn't take it, he would hurt me in any way.

"Please don't hurt me." My voice came out in a whisper that filled the room as I bit my lips, tears blinding my vision for a second.

I was in the grip of fear, and it was slowly crushing me alive. I could not move as I cried and tried to reason with myself. It didn't even take me a second to recover just by the look of him - it made me stand upright yet again and start to walk towards him, not daring to look at anything else in the room aside from him- my legs taking their own time as they wobbled. I wished I could lock myself up in a dark abyss where he would not be able to touch me, see me, or look at me.

"Hello love." His voice was deep and thick with his accent, his tone something else directed to me as he held me -the blood that on his hand now on me, the head in his other hand. And yet I could truly tell that he didn't see anything wrong with his actions or him as he looked at me in a way that made me believe he would never let me leave.

"I-I-Hi." My voice was low and thickened with fear. A huge ball on my throat. He kissed my forehead, leaving electricity all over my body, and I grabbed his suit, trying to find my ground, heavily crying into his chest, not even caring about the blood at the moment. I was disoriented; the scent of blood mixed with his made it worse.

I didn't even know what was going on; even as I closed my eyes, I could see the room, as it was the parts where my gaze went over. The amount of blood was unsettling, but it was the limbs of people that were on the floor and all over the place that had me bawling. Terrified could not even begin to express how I felt as I stood in close proximity to the man responsible of all this.

As much as I read and watched documentaries, this was something else. I have never seen anything like this, such a heinous act.

This felt worse than anything I could ever expect, but then again, I never expected the terrible things because I couldn't even imagine these sick and twisted acts. On top of being scared, I was bawling my eyes out,  I couldn't help but feel trapped—in this room—in this life with him. I was trapped—I was probably never leaving him, and he gave meaning to the word psychopath.

"You will excuse me if I zone out; I'm still trying to figure out what to do with you." There was a ghost of a smile on his face. As he brushed my cheek, his big, crimson-painted hands were gentle yet heavy.

"I'm -sorry -I'm so sorry. I'm sorry- I'm sorry." I couldn't stop, the words all to familiar as my mouth spewed them out. It didn't matter that I didn't know what I did wrong. He was my worst fear; I could even feel it in my veins as my stomach dropped. My begging seemed to excite the look in his eyes even more which made me whimper.

My begging fell on deaf ears as he turned, positioning me in front of him my view filled with the silver platters consisting of human organs. I stood shaking, praying, still whispering my pleases as I pressed my back onto him, trying to process everything yet miserable failing. I didn't stop apologising, even as my voice dwindled. I didn't want to be here, I begged him to just let me leave, I didn't want to be here and see all of this.

"It took me a little longer than expected to put this together for you. I will admit I had a little fun and got lost in the moment there." He said his hands were still on me, weighing heavily on my soul.

There were silver platters that covered the entire surface of the table, and there were organs on the platters—human organs. I was shaking as I watched the scene unfold in front of me, my mind slowly registering the contents on the table as I was still in denial. The trembling of my body was visible. This couldn't be real.

Maybe I would wake up at any second now. I wanted to run. I wanted to disappear. My heart was racing, and I could feel the adrenaline rushing through me, yet I couldn't do anything.

"W-what is this - I- what is this Lachlan?" My voice was small and croaky as it trembled at every word. I didn't even bother trying to be strong; this was too much; everything was too much with him. He heard me perfectly clearly because the only noise present in this room was from my crying; otherwise, there was silence. I knew how much he liked his silence.

"They made you cry so they paid with their lives." As if it was such an obvious things, I paused repeating his words over in my head as if a puzzle was now fitting together my eyes widened in realisation before I paused confusion taking over me. But I didn't understand, there were so many bodies here so many hearts on the platter the observation ripped out a sob from me yet again. As I pressed my back onto him.

"Why -why are there so many -so many-" I couldn't get the word out but there were so many limbs and heads everywhere. I have never seen anything like this.

"They also paid with their families lives ." Was all he said as if it was the most normal thing to say, I bit my lip focusing on the wall as I tried to pull myself together I didn't even want to think about it, yet I felt the guilt wash over me like pouring ice cold water. Oh my God this man was crazy.

"On a silver platter, as promised. " He said, kissing the top of my head and putting the head in my hands, making me scream and clutch my teeth together. I didn't look at it even though I felt it in my trembling hands; I knew better than to drop it.

"I don't-I -I don't understand-I -"

"It's simple, love. No one disrespects you and lives, whether you tell me or not I will find out about it."

"Why-why are you doing this to me?" My heart was sore as I looked at him; he towered over me. I didn't understand why he was so evil—and evil to me. The head felt like the heaviest thing I have ever held, as I made sure in every way I didn't look at it.

"I haven't done anything to you." His response sent chills down my spine as hiccups took over. I was still in a trance from the news; I couldn't think or breathe, and I struggled to do anything at his words on top of the dead bodies in here. I was paralysed with fear.

"The idea of cutting your tongue and making you swallow it excites me, but then how will you sing our wee ones to sleep." He easily wrapped his hand around my neck, easily lifting me off the ground. Even the force that my hands used against him was nothing. I was petrified and paralysed as I struggled to breathe. The head was long forgotten as I struggled for my life.

"Why do you insist that I repeat myself." I could feel his grip tighten, making my eyes widen I didn't stop fighting him but it was futile. He truly made me feel like I was a little doll compared to him. He made sure to make me understand and realise that I stood no chance against him; he could easily crush me. He would easily crush me.

"I-I'm sorry-I'm sorry." I kept on trying to shake my head, trying to appeal to him in any way, as I started to feel a little light. His grip around my neck was iron, and it was painful. I felt like he was slowly crushing my throat.

I started screaming and crying when he just fell silent. All of a sudden, there was a dark, gruesome change in his eyes as he watched me struggle, panic, and beg. My futile attempts were dying down, which made me more frantic. He did not budge, even as I screamed his name and sobbed. I could feel dots at the back of my eyes as I watched him no longer begging or fighting, just crying.

He dropped me making me land on my knees as I coughed endlessly, convinced I would start coughing blood. I felt his hand grip my braids as he pulled me by them across the room making me scream, which made my throat more painful as the sound came out. He stopped at his own accord; my vision was blurred from the constant crying as my hands held onto his iron grip on my braids. I felt like he would rip them off. A stronger scent of blood washed over me but I was too busy trying to sooth the pain than to care. My sobs were constant.

"Shhh." At the sound I tried to stop my sobs and coughing, which made my chest burn as I was on my knees at his feet facing him, his grip still on my hair, quiet as a mouse at his command. I was so scared. A newly discovered tub sat beside me that I didn't even recognise when I walked in, which was not surprising to me because I was only focused on him. I watched him quietly, trembling before his feet not daring to move even though my small hands were on top of his, to lessen his painful hold on me. I was afraid to say anything, yet I could not stop my tears even if I wanted to.

I couldn't help but sob, the sobs hurt my already sore throat. It was filled with a crimson liquid. I knew that it was blood from the scent. I could barely smell anything now because of my clogged nostrils, but the proximity of the tub filled with blood and myself made it easy. I was horrified and disgusted, questioning his sanity yet again.

"If you survive this maybe I will no longer be annoyed and cut off your tongue if you do wake up." He said, his tone calm, I knew he was serious. My stomach dropped and I screamed my pleas.

"Wa-wait- at least -attest please-please-" my lower lip seemed to have a mind of its own as it quivered endlessly. My eyes were in pain from all the crying that I was doing.  My head was buzzing at his next move afraid of the unknown.

"At least please-please tell me what I did wrong Lachlan. Ple-please -I -so I will -I will ne-never do it again. -please-please for-forgive me." This wasn't the same man I was having ice cream with yesterday, the one who has been on my mind the entire day- a sad reality check. As much as I had tried to be delusional, this was also him that I had to recognise. My throat and chest were on fire.

I shook my head while watching him. I couldn't find any words at the moment. I was so scared. My small hands entered my vision as I placed them together, begging him as I sobbed. Everything went in slow motion. I couldn't take anything from him; anything from him always left me scarred and traumatised. The vision of my hands only made me more sad; he didn't listen to me the first time. I doubted he would now, but I couldn't stop; I could now taste my fear.

He wasn't touched in any way as he pushed my head into the tub filled with blood. My entire being screamed in agony as I cried; the still-warm liquid covered my head. I tried to hold my breath for as long as I could, but I couldn't. It felt like forever. Even as I quickened and shook underwater, running out of the little oxygen I had, he didn't budge. I could feel the energy leave my body, and I started drowning; my chest burned as I sobbed, Lachlan's grip on my neck of iron.

When he pulled me out, I coughed out blood as I tried grasping onto the air as I cried and begged for forgiveness. My throat and chest burning so did my eyes. This was definitely worse than the water. I couldn't see anything, nor did I get a chance to clear my vision before I was under the
liquid yet again. Slowly fighting for my life my efforts coming short, useless as my body begged for air. I could tell he would only stop when I was either dead or he was satisfied.

...

Tell me what y'all think.