Page 8 of Nocturne

Just as we reach the doorway, a man appears suddenly, as if out of thin air. This causes Ivy and I to let out a small yelp and jump back.

Under the moonlight, this man looks scary. He is handsome with eyes that glint, dark hair, high cheekbones and a toned body. He is clad in a fashionably loose dark shirt tucked into his trousers. When he smiles, it resembles an unhinged serial killer rather than a sane person.

“Can’t have you leaving yet, lovelies.”

This time, Ivy pushes me behind her, trying to face this new man who gives the vibes of a deranged psychopath. The madness can be seen in his eyes and he makes no effort to mask it. He wants the fear and looking at his euphoric smile, he seems to enjoy ours.

“We just want to leave, please, let us go.” Ivy pleads, somehow keeping her voice from shaking.

The sudden arrival and loss of hope of our escape has me shaken. It is getting difficult by the minute to maintain my composure. Everything that has transpired in the last hour is too much for my brain to comprehend.

My hands shake and the security of my gun is the only thing that keeps me tethered to this ground right now. I know that if push comes to shove, I’ll be able to protect us. I can shoot, I will at least hurt them before they can kill me. I could even provide the chance for Ivy to run. I’m on borrowed time anyway.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t do that unless the boss man there gives you a go.” The new guy shrugs carelessly as he takes a step forward.

It has us taking one backwards. This continues until we are standing right where we had been. With our backs to the hanging corpses and facing the men who resemble the legion of devils.

“How did you like my new masterpiece, boss? I know you said to keep it clean and I tried my best.”

The new stranger looks at his boss, resembling a kid who’s eager for his father’s approval for his new scribble that he calls a painting. I can feel the slippery floor beneath my heels and smell the stench of blood behind me. If this is his version of keeping clean, I wouldn’t ever want to know his version of messy.

“Didn’t know vying for validation is your thing Eero,” Nico taunts the new guy—Eero.

Such strange names they all have. I bet all of their meaning are somehow linked to chaos or darkness.

“Shut up, fucker. It has been a while since I’ve been able to use the slaughterhouse with these many,”

I can feel the nausea climbing up my throat. Ivy grabs my hand for support and I go to stand beside her, trying my best to control the bile. These people talk about killing men as simply as we discuss clothes. And they have a thing called a slaughterhouse? Good god.

“Seems your crude words are unsettling our guests. Show some restraint in the presence of women, Eero.” Iblis speaks.

And surprisingly the man listens.

“Sorry,” Eero looks at us, but he doesn’t look sorry at all.

I cannot take another bout of silent standoff again. My heart’s palpitations are faster than I’d like and I know I cannot keep up this composure and clarity for long.

Normal people aren’t built like them. I’m afraid that if I lose my composure, it will affect my aim. Without perfect aim, the chances of survival go down. It might cost us our freedom, I might not be able to protect Ivy or give her enough time to run.

No, this will have to conclude, soon.

“Why can’t we leave?”

I’ve had the experience of remaining calm in dire situations before. And I’m thankful that it helps me keep my voice firm. I can’t see Nico’s and Devlin’s faces, but I see Eero and Iblis’s eyes flare with surprise for a moment before it is gone.

I’ve been told that my voice has a certain effect on people. Mom used to call me a mermaid until I told her the dark origins of the tale and how they used to lure sailors to eat them. I have seen the effect it has on others as well, but I didn’t think it would affect these battle-hardened criminals as well. If it does, maybe I could use it to my advantage.

“Because you have seen and heard things that make your lives… burdensome,” Iblis takes a step forward but still remains a step behind his boss.

He does most of the talking, but it’s clear who’s the boss. If not for his name I heard, with the way others stand behind him, hands clasped behind their backs, poised to follow his orders like obedient soldiers, they paint a quite obvious picture.

“We have poor memory. We easily forget traumatic things.” I quip.

This causes Iblis to smile slightly and Eero to chuckle. Nico and Zagan remain quiet.

“Do you?”

I nod, and so does Ivy. I cannot ignore the way Iblis’s eyes stay on her for a second longer and the way they travel all over her.

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