They wouldn't; they couldn't...

“Alone with thoughts of what should have long been forgotten, I let myself be carried away into the silent screams of delirium.”

—Amanda Steel.

Leticia.

Her tears had dried up, her vacant eyes staring into nothingness. She still held the cold body in her hands, caring less about how soaked up in blood her cloth was.

The only thing that kept on resounding in her brain was Hannah's last words. The pain written on her face as she was dying slowly was the picture accompanying those words.

Hannah was trying to be strong until the end, struggling not to show that she was in so much pain, but she could see through the facade. She could see how she was gritting her teeth, and how she was biting her lips at intervals to relieve the pain.

In vain. All in vain.

Her soul had been long gone, but her words still lingered.

You must survive; you just have to survive.

I pray you'll find your prince charming.

Prince Charming? She let out a withered chuckle that resonated in the room, dropping her gaze to the stiff girl in her arms.

"You're very funny, Hannah. Very funny."

The sounds died gradually,  giving rise to a frigid silence. She felt suffocated.

Even when the door was opened, she didn't move. She just continued to stare at nothing.

"Ah, I see that her stubbornness has cost her. Such a pity. She was one stunning girl." The voice was familiar.

Her eyes stopped on the man that towered above her. The piercings, the ginger hair, the green eyes, all could be traced to one person.

The man that caught them trying to escape.

He gave her a wide smile as their eyes met, the screeching sound of his chair as it kissed the tile came to a halt when he put it down and straddled it.

"Come clear this mess."

His command was chaperoned by multiple footsteps.

Looking up, she saw three men walking towards her with their eyes trained on Hannah's body. They wanted to take the body away. To where?

As they got closer, Leticia gripped the body tighter, hugging it to herself. They would have to get through her to take the body.

"Release it," a gravelly voice commanded, trying to tug the body from her.

Saying nothing, she fastened her grip, refusing to let it go.

The third man stepped forward, pulling Hannah by the legs.

"Let it go," ginger-head said.

They stopped tugging the body and stood at attention by the side.

"Leticia. You seem not to have learned your lesson yet. Look at her, lifeless in your arms, would it be nice for you to end up like that? Okay, so you don't want them to take the body right? What would you use it for?"

His speech was as though he was talking to a three-year-old. Still, she refused to let go of the body.

"You can keep the body, but don't you think it's not fair? Your friend deserves a proper burial at least, but that can't happen if you refuse to release her body. Would you rather let the body rot and smell?"

The words struck a certain chord within her. Truly, what good will it be if she held on to Hannah's body? Due to the suddenness of Hannah's death, she had lost all sense of logical reasoning. She had forgotten that all living things decomposed when life was lost. Dust to dust.

Her clutch slackened, the muscles of her fingers relaxing as she let go of the body. The weakness she started to feel in her hands had her realising how heavy the body was.

"Good girl," ginger-head said with a light chuckle. He motioned to the men to take away the body to which they obliged.

"Your sensibility, although low is quite attractive. I can't wait to have you."

Leticia shuddered as his statement met her ears, refusing to think about his insinuation. Surely, they wouldn't touch her right?

He lifted his huge frame from the chair and squatted down directly before her. She flinched as he rose his hand.

"Aye, aye, not so fast. You haven't done anything to warrant any bashing from me, okay? There's nothing to be scared of. Just keep being a good, good girl. Huh?" He traced the side of her jaw with the tip of his fingers.

She shifted a bit, sickened at the way he was caressing her.

"Oh darling, you shouldn't resist. I'll have ample time with you soon, so I'm preparing you for it. Don't fret, I'll be gentle I promise."

His loud cackle and the signature sound of his chair grating the tiles echoed as he exited the room the way he entered.

Leticia hugged her legs to herself,
letting out a shaky breath as she rocked herself back and forth.

The stillness of the room reminded her of her newfound reality— she was all alone. No Hannah to encourage her that they would be fine, or to bring up random gists and questions whether her husband was hot or not.

She felt goosebumps swelling out of her skin when ginger-head's words resurfaced in her head. Her moment of silence was disrupted by heavy footsteps hitting the tiles followed by the opening of the door.

The minions filed into the room, lining up at either side where she sat, leaving her to wonder exactly what it was that they wanted next.

Then she saw him—the devil's incarnate, taking those leisurely, calculated strides in those immaculate white clothes and his angelic features.

She was tempted to spit at him, but then she wasn't as brave as Hannah.

This time, a thick white shawl was splayed on the ground before they kept his special sofa. He took a seat on it, leaning his head back and scanning the room with his crystal blue eyes before settling the pair on her.

The edges of his eyes crinkled as he gave a smile. The type that nothing good could come after.

"I've not forgotten you," he started, maintaining that smile that got her sick to the depths of her stomach.

"It's unfortunate that your counterpart had me give in to my emotions..." He sighed, shaking his head from side to side. "However, I've regained my control and I don't plan to end you so soon. I'll have some fun first, then go with the flow."

Have fun with her? Cold sweat breaking out on her forehead, she tried to refute her guess on his nuances.

They wouldn't touch her

They couldn't touch her

Leticia chanted in her head.

"Before that, you reek of stale blood." He pinched his nose, beckoning on one of his minions with his index and middle fingers who rushed forward. "Call me one of the attendants."

After giving the command, Angel brought his gaze back to Leticia, his blue eyes glinting maliciously as he scrutinized her features.

Shuffling backwards with slow but deliberate steps to shield herself away from his wandering gaze, she jerked when he snapped his fingers in her face.

"There, stop that irritating movement," he said and she halted.

"The attendant here will clean you up. Don't try to go against any of my instructions."

Leticia lifted her eye to the direction he pointed at. A tall lady with pale skin and a plump build stood in a skimpy white gown. Her brunette hair was swept into a ponytail. The skin of her face was littered with freckles, and her pointed chin was turned up.

She gave Leticia a once over before turning her gaze back to Angel.

"Master. What do I do with her?"

Angel, without shifting his gaze from Leticia said, "clean her up. Completely. Ask them to take her with you, I'm sure you wouldn't want your dress to be stained."

The lady nodded and gave a slight bow, then walked out of the room.

Two of his lackeys pulled her up by each biceps to carry out his command.

She said no word of protest as they carried her away, noting to herself that any little move and she could be cleared.

When they got to the room, she had no idea. But she was not interested in surveying it, all that was in her mind was what would become of her.

A harsh shove on her shoulders brought her back to reality. She did not acknowledge whoever it was that shoved her but continued to stare at the ground.

She was shoved again, this time the shove was followed with a command. "Strip."

I did not hear that.

It's not what I think it is.

She chanted silently.

The next she knew was that her gown was being ripped to pieces with scissors. Without any time to react, the following sensation she felt was the goosebumps and the wetness that had spread all over her.

She wheezed, flaying her hands up and down continuously to get some air above the water.

Moments later, when they had scrubbed and plucked and bruised her skin, she was handed a bathrobe to put on.

Ignoring the stinging sensation on her skin, she shrugged on the fluffy bathrobe, thanking her stars that it wasn't rough enough to cause more irritation to her skin.

She was led out of the room in the bathrobe into another room. The sources of her nightmares sat on the couch in the room.

Angel staring at her with the side of his lips tugged up into that wicked smirk, and Ginger-head smiling with his full dentition exposed.

As she stepped closer into the room, the looks in their eyes were getting more visible, and she did not like it.

They ogled her like predators scrutinizing their prey. Like she was fresh meat they couldn't wait to pounce upon.

Her heart began to pound in her chest for the umpteenth time in two days, as though it could leap out of her mouth at any moment. She wrapped her trembling hands around herself as tight as she could, wishing she could make herself smaller than she already was.

"You know," the voice started.

She shifted on one foot, praying that his next statement was not going to be bad. As much as she knew that she wasn't going to leave the place unharmed, a part of her still hoped that there was light at the end of the tunnel.

"Black ladies are fucking fire. Just look at those boobs," he continued, using his fingers to demonstrate the curves on her chest.

She grabbed the end of the robe, pulling it closer to conceal her body.

"Master, what do you think? She's got really juicy and fresh boobs. Man I'd totally squeeze that. Isn't it high time we get to business?"

His green eyes were glinting, showing unadulterated lust. He ran his tongue over his lips as he continued to stare at her chest. He looked like he was very close to attacking her any moment from then.

She shut her eyes tight.

Her heart, It was beating at a faster rate. She did not want to imagine the men touching her; did not want to relieve similar memories that she spent years trying to bury.

They could not.

They would not.

She continued to chant in her head, shutting her eyes tight, fighting it back, shaking her head to get rid of it.

"It is," Angel said, bringing his eyes to fully settle on her after a few seconds of staring at his watch.

It would not resurface, she would make sure of it.

"Strip, Leticia. Now."

All efforts were rendered futile as the statement reached her ears; and she was transported back in time, that fateful day on Noah's eighteenth birthday...

My guyyyysss😩😩
Sorry for being AWOL🤧 I had exams to write and I had to abandon Leticia for a while. But not to worry, I'm back for now.

Did you miss me?🙃😌

I know you did, no loud am😂

So how's the chapter? Please leave comments and don't forget to vote😚

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See y'all next time🥰🥰

Your favourite noise maker still remains... CAUPCAYKE😉💖💖