A gentle, warm touch scorching my skin through the layers of fabric. Softness skimming across my throat, grazing the side of my neck. It was a pacifying, warm touch, one I hadn't felt since my mother's death. I sucked in a quivering breath as the warmth connected with the side of my face.

No one has touched me like this in years. Before I knew it, my fingers were instinctually reaching towards that comforting heat, craving its touch. Trapping the specter of warmth between my palms.

Sighing in satisfaction at the protective radiance that now curved over me, I opened my heavy eyes, registering a harsh reign of darkness around me. Through my hazy sight, I could briefly make out the shadow that loomed above me. My breath hitched. Tremors threatened to spill within my throat.

Cold, empty eyes, grazing my features like frost. Dark, sturdy build that closed around me like iron, pulsating warmth. The moment I registered it, every movement in my limbs froze, every vertebra in my spine turning to ice.

The face was not of familiar features; yet his eyes, his brows, his mouth, all seemed to connect like a glowing constellation. This was the boy who had witnessed me abused in my father's room, no doubt. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between us as I stared at him in disbelief.

"Where...Where is this? Why am I here?" he was so close, so close to me, till the only thing shrouding him was the pressing darkness. "Where is my father?" As I asked this, a throbbing ache gushed within my head, reminding me of my haunting nightmare- one I will never forget.

"This is where I live," he replied abruptly, his cold, distant expression burning through me like a merciless fire. "And your father is fine." He does not disclose more, but instead lowered a steely glare at me.
"But you... you've been in a coma for three days already. You've been quite the burden; running a fever throughout the nights, sudden convulsions, and occasional screams." This statement made me flush with embarrassment, but he ran on like he hadn't seen my uneasiness. "I held your hand to calm you; but you hung on so tight and wouldn't let go."

Red touched my cheeks, deepening my blush, as I gazed down at his hands. It was imprisoned in my firm grip. I hurriedly disentangled my hands from his.

"I'm so sorry..." Apprehension crowded my throat. His gaze softened at my apology, but examined me strangely as if expecting a different answer.

"I...um..." My heart raced as my voice shattered in broken pieces. "Thank you so much for what you've done for me. But I really need to go home now. My father will-"

My voice broke off as an almost incomprehensible expression began to shroud his darkening face. I remembered his complex gaze that night outside my house; it was an expression so similar to the one that now flickered across his features. That look soon slipped away, and he sighed uneasily.

I said nothing, and we both drifted into intolerable silence, the gloom around us hiding his features. He took a few steps away from me, then signaled, "I'm going to fetch some food for you. You must be hungry."

With this, I surrendered to my slumped position once again, surveying the interior of this room with stinging curiosity. It was a dreary interior, and although it was not small, the structure of the building reminded me of a dark, sinister attic. Drenched in a brooding melancholy, and whispering of bitter entrapment. The lack of air in this dark, inhospitable place seemed to strangle my heartbeat, reminding me of my countless sufferings.
I arose with teetering feet, making my way cautiously across the strange, dark space. As I removed myself from the warmth and safety of my nestled position, a frosty gale suddenly began to envelop my frail limbs, accompanied by another strange flood of odour. The strength of the smell intensified as I stumbled closer to a part of the room; that odd yet familiar scent. It reminded me of that icy night, when I succumbed to mirthless beatings in my father's room.

Agony thawed in my throat, tearing me apart. Drawing me back into reality.

There was a door at the corner of the attic. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, I caught sight of its rusted handle, and an urge to open the door conquered my inner worries. As I turned the handle, the door yawned unhappily, revealing the murky interiors of a tiny storage apartment. Uninterested, I was about to latch the door, when a shying light peered weakly into the dim room.

I felt my blood run cold. Every inhale drew in sharp bursts of ice, their forces threatening to tear me apart.

In a shadowed corner of the apartment, lay nothing other than the disfigured body of a woman. Clothes soaked in douses of blood, body contorted in an odd, sinister position. The sight of her slit, blackened feet was enough for dread to engulf me.

No, it can't be a coincidence.

The reflections of faint light slowly bled away, and I was pulled under the blanket of darkness once again. I hastily slammed the door shut. Dread unleashed and whipped viciously at my shuddering limbs, and I fought to conceal my cry of panic and shock. Beads of sweat were now streaming vehemently from my searing forehead, as I grasped onto the ground with the remainder of my draining strength.
Did... did that boy kill her? Is he a violent murderer hiding behind that cold, expressionless mask? And what if... what if he wanted to kill me too?

I sunk my teeth deep into my vulnerable lips, until I could feel the strings of blood weeping down my chin. There was no doubt. That boy had slaughtered the woman. As much as I tried to suppress the thought, it bubbled up to the surface, swallowing me whole.
He killed someone. Is he going to hurt me too?

The darkness pressing cruelly around me exemplified the thought. As I staggered back to the spot where he had left me, one rising thought continuously haunted me as I waited in silence for his dreaded arrival - I could very well... be that lifeless form, murdered under the frosty gaze of the devil himself.

And as I crumpled there, tremors rising and falling like mirthless tides upon my body, the boy reappeared. He was holding a round bowl, which was set gently before me. His cool, imperious composure soothed me a little; he likely hadn't witnessed my outburst of shock and fearful realization. I brought the bowl, which was filled with a strange liquidish substance, greedily to my mouth, but hesitation ceased my tremulous movements.

What if there was poison in that dish? Should I trust his actions? No, nothing could be helped now. Under his mirthless scowl lurked suspicion and skepticism, as if coldly calculating my every move. I was pretty much dead, one way or another. It was as if my world was crumbling around me, and my eyes instinctively flickered to that door in the corner of the attic. I only glanced for a second or so, but that was enough to catch his eye. I guiltily withdrew my terrified gaze, but it was already too late.

"What did you just see?" he inquired with a smile, and his hands instantly caught my wrist in an iron grasp. The bowl of liquid shattered on the floor, and its watery substance crawled angrily down my legs. I made no effort to struggle; fear seized me so completely that I was immobilized.

I could feel the rising and falling of his warm breath on my neck, and his fingers digging hungrily into the flesh of my wrist. Revulsion overflowed me like the blood in my mouth, and I gritted my teeth in disdain. This was the boy that I had held hands with while in that coma. How could I? The sight before me faded into an irritating shade of gray; a violent trepidation was smothering my vision. I fought with my extinguished strength, trying desperately to tear away his firm grasp, but that only made his eyes blaze with a more vicious hunger.

He lunged, hands outstretched, crushing me mercilessly against the cold, hard ground. Paralyzed with dizziness and shock, I struggled back. Before he could register yet another loathful blow, I sewed my eyes shut, vanquished by the fate that awaited me.

The shadow of a fist was threatening above my forehead; I could decipher its malice as it approached my face. Through the depths of my cold; anguished mind, a glacial voice screamed and mocked, over and over, a singular loathsome word. Murderer...But as I blindly awaited that final ominous blow, my body curled and trembling, a glacial laugh of contempt reached my stinging ears.

"What a shame." The boy was shaking his head tauntingly before me, a wisp of imperious mockery in his ice-cold eyes. "You should've fought harder." Then with another mocking scorn, he released my inflamed wrists, inspecting me with bloodthirsty arrogance. He was the powerful hunter surveying his ensnared prey, and that made every gush of blood streaking through my skin ten times more excruciating. Why wasn't I dead? Thought poured blankly from my mind, and a stubborn weight crushed my painful chest. The malevolent hunter was now encircling me with a teasing smile, grazing his hands momentarily upon the edge of my cheek. Upon seeing the frosty look glistening in my eyes, he extended his arm and wiped the remnants of tears on my face.

"Now, now..." he threatened coldly, "don't ever think of going back home. You've seen my inner secrets, so you're staying here with me. Or..." his voice lowered into a quiet snarl, " you may choose to die, if you wish."

With those final menaces, he shoved me maliciously against the hard, dusty wall, and smiled as a groan escaped my throat. Then he strode contemptuously away from my debilitated form, not troubling to lay one last look upon me. A door slammed shut in the distance.
It was fortunate that he had gone. For, luckily, he did not catch the fire in my eyes, now blistering vehemently with none other than the incarnation of flaming hatred. It manifested feverishly within my heart, and I swore to myself that very soon, I was going to make him regret everything that he had done to me.

That night, I lay on the harsh, uncomfortable ground, the pain inflaming my back and chasing away every brooding urge of sleep. I rested quietly, with no bed sheets, bedcovers, or anything that would placate my stiffness. I could see myself in sorrowful tears, a girl entrapped in this wrathful, incorrigible prison, drowning under ever-present anguish. I wrapped my limp, ice-blue arms around my own shivering body, trying to keep myself alive, at least.

I have no idea why I'm here. Why he decided to kidnap me.

I stay awake all night, tears scalding my red-hot cheeks, exhaustion crippling my veins. It was only until morning that I followed the scent of metallic blood into the abyss of yet another frightening nightmare.