Page 67 of Dark Therapy

And then, in the distance, the faintest sound offootsteps. Slow, deliberate. Approaching.

The creak was followed by a slow, deliberate scrape of metal against stone. The sound was jagged and unrelenting, reverberating down the hallway like a knife slicing through the air. My stomach twisted, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I pressed my back against the wall, every muscle locked in place as the sound continued—a steady, menacing rhythm that seemed to mock the frantic beat of my heart.

Scrraaape. Scrraaape.

“Did you miss me, Millie?”

His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it carried through the silence like a storm.Ifroze, my mouth dry, my eyes darting into the abyss of the hallway. I couldn’t see him, but he wasthere. Somewhere in the dark.Watching.

“Two years,” he drawled, the scrape of metal punctuating his words. “Twoyearswithout you. Do you know what that does to a man?”

Scrraaape. Scrraaape.

The sound crawledunder my skin, scraping against my sanity as much as the walls. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat, each beat screaming at me to move, torun. But I was rooted in place, paralyzed by the voice dripping with malice.

“You don’t, do you?” Damien hissed, his voice oozing through the shadows like venom. “Of course, you don’t. Always so controlled, soperfect. While I—” His voice turned into a sharp, guttural sound that made my blood run cold. “I’ve beenrotting, doctor. Piece by piece. Every day without you tore something out of me.”

There was a loud bang, and I flinched, my body jerking violently as if the sound had struck me. The clang of metal against the floor echoed down the hallway, and my eyes snapped toward it.

“Do you want to know what I thought about every night?” His voice was closer now, impossibly close. I spun around, but the darkness swallowed everything. My pulse raced, my hands trembling at my sides.

“I thought aboutyou, Millie. About the way your voice shakes when you’re scared. About the way your eyes widen when you realize you’re out of your depth.” A harsh laugh cut through the air, jagged and broken, devoid of humor. “But most of all… I thought about the way youmoanedmy name when Ifuckedyou.”

A shiver ran through my spine, and I didn’t know if it was because of his words, or the metallic scrape that suddenly erupted from behind me.

I whirled around, a scream lodged in my throat. Nothing. Just the endless dark, watching,breathing.

“Tell me, Millie,” he whispered, his voice now soft, almost tender, sending chills racing through my body. “Did you think about me? At night? In your dreams? Did you wake up wondering if I’m still out there, waiting for you?”

The scrape turned into aviolentscreech, like claws against steel, and I clamped my hands over my ears, my knees threatening to buckle. His voice rose over the sound, maniacal and raw, his words cutting like knives.

“RUN!” he bellowed, the force of the word reverberating off the walls. “Run like your life depends on it. Because the things I have in mind for you are…deliciouslyterrifying!”

And then silence. Deafening, crushing silence.

I stood there, trembling, every muscle in my body screaming for me to move. But I couldn’t. Not until I heard it—the faintest sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, coming toward me.

“Tick-tock,” Damien murmured, his voice laced with a sickening glee. “You’re running out of time.”

The footsteps stopped. The scraping resumed. And in the shadows ahead, I finally saw it—a glint of metal, the faint outline of a figure moving closer. My breath hitched, and something inside mesnapped. I bolted.

Bare feet pounding against the cold, rough floor, I tore down the hallway, the icy air biting at my skin. The walls around me seemed to stretch and twist, a labyrinth of shadows and echoes. My heartbeat roared in my ears, drowning out everything—everything excepthim.

“That’s it!” Damien’s voice chased after me, wild and elated, ricocheting off the walls like gunfire. “Feel it! Feel thefear! It’s fuckingalive, isn’t it? Pulsing, burning, consuming you! That’s what I’ve been waiting for!”

The metallic scrape followed, relentless, almost playful now, like he was savoring the chase. Every few steps, it would pause, replaced by the heavy thud of his boots. He wasn’t running. He didn’t have to.

I turned a corner too sharply, my shoulder slamming into the wall. Pain jolted through me, but I didn’t stop. The hallway seemed endless, each turn identical to the last, as if the asylum itself was conspiring to keep me trapped.

“Do you know why I told you to run, Millie?” His voice came from somewhere ahead now, impossibly close, as if the shadows themselves carried his words. “Because Iloveseeing you like this. Helpless. Desperate.Alive.”

I tripped, my knees scraping against the unforgiving floor. A choked cry escaped my lips as I scrambled back to my feet, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. But even through the terror, a sickening truth clawed its way to the surface:I missed this. Thechaos, thethrill, the way my blood surged through my veins like fire. No one could unravel me like Damien. No one could make me feel so utterlyalivewhile dragging me to the brink ofmadness.

“That little smile,” he taunted, his voice closer now, dripping with cruel amusement. “Oh, Millie, I see it. You can lie to yourself all you want, but I know the truth.You love this, don’t you? You’ve always loved playing with fire. And me? I’m the flames that willburnyou alive.”

I veered into another hallway, the shadows darker here, thicker, suffocating. My lungs burned, my body screaming for rest, but I couldn’t stop.Notyet. Not when I could hear him closing in.

The metallic scrape grew louder, faster. A high-pitched laugh followed—a sound so raw andunhingedit made my stomach churn.