Page 3 of Deviant Secrets
Why doesn’t she just stick her demon claws down my throat and take my soul while she’s at it?
“I can’t this time,” she said, pinching her eyebrows together. If she kept doing it, the creases in her perfect face of plasticwould crack under the pressure. “Ezra wasn’t the only one you left behind. Other people suffered from his abuse.”
Guilt welled up in me at her statement, but I stayed quiet, pouring the rest of my water bottle onto the fire. Watching it fizzle to ash before throwing it to the trash can at the side of the cabin.
A shiver clawed at my spine, hearing movement from the brush of the forest. Sometimes we had wild animals, coyotes, bears, things of that sort, so I really didn’t think much of it.
“Why do I have to save everyone?”
My chest clenched, and I played ignorant to it, storming inside to hide the tears that threatened to fall. Back then I never cried this much, but now it’s like the weight of the world was crushing me. In times like this, I wish I had someone to hold me and tell me everything was going to be alright, even if it was a flat-out lie. The cabin was old, and the wood started to rot at the foundation, but it gave me the privacy needed.
Hidden among a throng of trees and thick brush. It had three bedrooms and a bathroom with a medium-sized kitchenette. I loved the place dearly and would soak up as many years as possible before it needed a complete renovation. I always made the drive here to relax when the hustle of the city became too loud.
“Stay safe! You never know what’s lurking out here!” She yelled from the window of her SUV.
The sound of tires spinning in the wet earth grabbed my attention, and I watched as her truck became a speck on the horizon. My eyes landed on the dusty turntable that adorned the corner of the room, and I padded across the itchy carpet. Placing the needle right on the edge of the vinyl. Part of me hoped it still worked.
After some scratching, the soft melody of ‘(You’re the) devil in disguise’ by Elvis sounded from the singular speaker.Drowning out the sounds around me, I swayed to the music, letting it flow through my veins, feeling transported back in time.
The same feeling I used to have on the ice. Closing my eyes softly, I inhaled the foreign scent of the rink, watching everyone skate around, and helping those who wanted to learn. There’s nothing quite like it. The smell of ice that was freshly smoothed over ten minutes before your skate touched it.
Relaxation washed over at the memories, and I smiled, heading over to the kitchen to grab some snacks and a nice glass of wine. The rain tattered on the old mossy roof, and the patter gave the song an added beat. Past conversations were at the forefront of my mind again, and I tried to shake them away.
Why would she try to gaslight me like that? My parents were disappointed when I left, and because I didn't trust them, I never told the full truth of what I went through. Not that they cared anyway.
Plus, I’d always craved a different type of lifestyle, and sometimes shame crept to the surface. People always assume in my world, especially those on the outside looking in. It hasn’t gotten me in
trouble yet, and oh, do I love to play. Each conversation meticulously planned out, right down to what color the paint on my toes was.
I’d gone out on dates and attempted to share my life with someone I thought loved me, but the truth is I’m selfish, and I’ve created safety within myself. I rose from the ashes, and I’d be damned if anyone took that away.
I have a particular set of needs that can only be fulfilled by those willing to cross a threshold most are afraid of. Which is understandable, yet drab, to say the least.
The smell of buttery goodness permeated the air as I reached for the wineglass, tempted to drink it right from the bottle.Flashbacks and memories flooding my mind in a haze. Making my heart flutter from anxiousness. I was never keen on alcohol, but at this moment I wanted to forget before it completely ruined my night.
Making my way over to the small chair, I grabbed the fuzzy blanket that laid across the top and set out to enjoy my snacks and curl up in a good book. The fourth in the series, and what I’ve been waiting for. All I needed to do was relax.
Leaning back in the chair, sleep pricked at my eyes, and I started to doze off with the book draped lazily at my side. A shiver crept its way up my back, and my body jolted as the needle zig-zagged. An uneasy feeling claimed the room as the song to skip and restart the same line.
You’re…
The Devil…
The Devil…
The Devil….
It was eerie to say the least, and I chalked it up to the multiple scratches that record has gained due to the years of overuse. All I had to do was fix the needle and the soft melody would penetrate my ears. Flowing through my brain once more. My arms raised above my head, stretching each muscle to the max before they rested in my lap.
I rolled my eyes and rose from the couch with the glass of wine in my hand, and the floor creaked ominously as I headed towards the turntable. An unmistakable thump came from the back room, and my breath hitched. Goosebumps pricked at my skin, and I agonizingly waited, a sense of dread washing over me.
Then came the footsteps, and the old wood creaked under the intruder’s feet. I froze, and the wineglass slipped from my fingers, shattering to the floor as I tried to push down the rapidly growing lump in my throat.
Someone was inside…watching me…or were they outside, trying to get in?
I peered through the window with my hand over my face, pleading with the rising vomit to not spill. My breathing stilled, escaping in wisps through my fingers as panic rose within. I couldn’t see anyone through the crisp frost of the window.
Not one breath Chloe. If I can get to my keys on the table, it might be possible to make a run for it.