Page 69 of The Devil's Chaos

The first cut was meant to scare her. The second and third were meant to torture her. The cuts and stabs after…those were meant to kill her in a cruel and inhumane manner. He wanted her to suffer. As her blood spilled on the ground, you could see the hope that she might make it out alive slowly fade from her eyes. Her body jerked and convulsed with each stab of his blade. Her muffled screams faded into whimpers and then silence as the life drained from her eyes. My brother took a sadistic pleasure in drawing out her suffering for as long as possible before allowing her the mercy of death. I slammed my eyes shut when he gutted her, her intestines spilling out onto her pale skin. His maniacal laughter echoed through the cathedral as they tied her to the cross near the altar.

Lacey was dead because of me. Because I had dared to defy my brother and tried to escape his iron grip on my life. He had warned me there would be consequences, but I never imagined he would go this far as to torture and kill innocent people to prove a point to me or to teach me a lesson. Her blood was on my hands.

I knew I should go to the police and turn over the video as evidence. But fear held me back like a vice. My brother had eyes and ears everywhere. One wrong move, and I'd be the next one strapped to that cold stone floor, begging for mercy that would never come.

Maybe that’s what I deserved.

I took another shot, hissing as the familiar burn in my throat returned. The bartender eyed me suspiciously, probably wondering what a woman like me was doing in a place like this. If only he knew the truth about the hell I was living. I glanced at my phone, the screen still open to the text message from my brother. The thumbnail image of the video taunted me, daring me to press play again. To relive the nightmare once more.

But I couldn't do it. I knew if I watched it again, I would shatter completely. The carefully constructed façade I had built over the years would crumble, leaving me exposed and vulnerable, just like he wanted.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. The stench of the bar filled my nostrils, grounding me in the present moment. I had to find a way out of this mess.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. My eyes flew open, and I whirled around, ready to fight off any potential threat. But instead of my brother's menacing face, I found myself staring into the concerned eyes of the bartender.

“Are you alright there, miss?” he asked, his gruff voice tinged with a hint of worry. “You've been sitting here for hours, downing shots like there's no tomorrow.”

I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. “I'm fine,” I managed to croak out, my words slurring slightly. “Just had a rough day.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying my half-hearted excuse. “If you say so,” he shrugged, walking away. But then he paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. “Just be careful out there. This ain't exactly the safest part of town.”

I nodded, watching as he disappeared behind the bar. If only he knew the true danger I faced. The threat didn't come from the seedy characters lurking in the shadows of this dive bar.

No, the real monster was my own flesh and blood.

I glanced at my phone again, the screen now dark. I knew I couldn't stay here forever, drowning my sorrows in cheap tequila. Throwing some crumpled bills on the bar top, I stumbled out the door, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap. The streets were deserted, save for a few stragglers huddled in doorways. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, trying to ward off the chill that seemed to seep into my bones. The world spun around me, and I gripped the brick wall for support. My stomach churned, threatening to expel the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed. I needed to go home and shower, but that meant I had to face the truth, and I really didn’t want to.

The taxi ride back to my apartment was a blur. I vaguely remember mumbling my address to the driver before slumping against the window, my forehead pressed against the cool glass. The city lights streaked by in a haze, their bright colors muted by the fog of alcohol clouding my mind. The driver kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, probably wondering what kind of trouble I was running from.

If only he knew.

When the taxi finally pulled up to my building, I fumbled with the door handle, nearly tumbling out onto the sidewalk. I managed to right myself, tossing a handful of bills at the driver before staggering toward the entrance. The doorman, Frank, always kind to me, eyed me with concern as I stumbled past him.

“Rough night, Miss Benson?” he asked gently, reaching out a steadying hand.

I flinched away from his touch, shaking my head. “I’m fine, Frank. Thanks,” I mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

The elevator ride up to my floor seemed to take an eternity. I leaned against the wall, trying to ignore how the small space spun around me. When the doors finally slid open, I practically fell into the hallway, my legs barely supporting my weight.

Once inside my apartment, I made a beeline for the bathroom as a wave of nausea hit me like a freight train. I barely made it before emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Images from the video flashed through my mind—Lacey's terrified gaze, my brother's sadistic grin, the gleaming blade slicing through flesh. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories, but they persisted, tormenting me relentlessly.

Gasping for air between heaves, I clutched the cool porcelain, my knuckles turning white. The marble tiles beneath my knees dug into my skin, forcing me to stay in the present. With shaking hands, I pushed myself up from the floor and stumbled to the sink. I splashed cold water on my face, the icy shock helping to clear some of my alcohol-induced haze. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and at the ghost that stared back at me—bloodshot eyes, sallow skin, and dark circles that spoke of a girl haunted by nightmares.

Staggering back into my bedroom, I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and chugged it. Walking back into the bathroom, I turned the shower on and stripped myclothes off. I scrubbed my skin until it was raw and red, as if I could wash away the stains of my brother’s sins. I stood under the water until it ran cold, my body shivering and numb. Turning off the faucet, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel.

With a heavy sigh, I padded into my bedroom, not bothering to dry off before collapsing onto the bed. The sheets were cool against my damp skin. I curled up into a tight ball, hugging my knees to my chest, and squeezed my eyes shut, willing sleep to come and grant me a temporary reprieve, but I couldn’t shake the image of Lacey’s lifeless eyes staring back at me from that cold cathedral floor.

“Nice of you to finally come home,little lamb,” Kai’s voice broke the silence.

I sat straight up, squinting to find him. He was sitting in the chair next to my closet, his blue eyes breaking through the dark.

“What are you doing here?” my voice trembled as I asked.

He leaned forward, his face coming into focus as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. That familiar smirk played on his lips, the one that now sent a chill down my spine.

“I think you know exactly why I’m here, little lamb. You’ve been a very naughty girl, running away and hiding so many secrets from me.”

He was here to kill me for what my brother did to Lacey.

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