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Chapter 59

Author: Edith
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

A nightmare...

It must be a nightmare.

I prayed in my mind. As I came back to consciousness, I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see the ceiling of my room in the psychiatric hospital. However, the first thing I saw was a ceiling fan that I had never seen in my life. My chest tightened at the cruel reality, my stomach churning.

It's not a nightmare.

Don't panic; you won't achieve anything that way.

Émilie...

Tears formed in my eyes and fell down the sides of my face. Oh Émilie... she didn't deserve to die like that; she hadn't done anything wrong. I couldn't stop thinking that her death was my fault. If she hadn't gotten involved with me... If I hadn't been stupid enough to let Mason fool me, she would be alive.

Calming myself down, I turned my head to both sides to take a look at my surroundings. I was lying on my back in a large bed with white sheets. It was a huge room; it had two windows that touched the floor and reached the ceiling, with white curtains on both si
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    With that, he disappeared through the bathroom door. As soon as he did, I let out a long breath I didn't know I was holding, and tears rolled down my cheeks as I held my chest. "Oh my God," I murmured, my hands shaking. I was in his hands. The killer of my family had gotten to me, and who knows what he was going to do to me. Torture me? Kill me? Rape me? Or maybe all of that and more? I knew everything Mason was capable of, and that only increased my fear. Wiping away my tears, I decided to hurry. I didn't know how many minutes had passed, but I knew I didn't want Mason forcing me to do anything. I searched the closet, and my stomach turned when I noticed that all the clothes were my size. Since when had he planned all this? I picked out a long-sleeved shirt and wool pants, which had a zipper on one side of the leg, so I could put them on with the chain. Bastard, he had really prepared everything. It looked like pajamas, but I didn't care; I wanted to cover myself as much as p

  • ECHOES OF TRUTH   Chapter 61

    Police Station, K Division, Ontario, Canada. Agent Foster -Shit! Shit! Shit! - I hit the wall with all my pent-up rage and frustration. I couldn't believe it; I couldn't believe this shit. -Can someone explain to me how this happened? The four agents only shared a glance without saying anything, so my gaze fell on Officer Ferguson who, although he had a broken nose with a bandage over it, looked calm, chewing gum. I eliminated the formalities and spoke to him directly, "Logan, what the hell happened?" He shrugged, "Boss, I did warn you about Mason, didn’t I?" Agent Miller ran his hand over his face. We never had any reason or evidence to suspect him. He had a confirmed alibi for the night of the murder. What were we supposed to do? Logan leaned back in his chair, "They should have trusted me." She gave him an incredulous look, "How can you be so calm?" Miller rolled his eyes, "Did you really just ask him that?" I sighed, "Can someone tell me how a killer was right under our

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    "The same story, but he went to Greece." I let out a laugh full of irony. "The bastard planned everything very well. Did they send someone to check the crime scene?" Hudson replied, "Yeah, there's nothing, and I don't think it's going anywhere near that place." The sound of a notification echoed through my office. Logan checked a tablet on his lap. "We need to move; he's near the U.S. border," Logan spoke confidently. I gave him an incredulous look. "Logan, I feel like there's something you’re not telling us." Logan held up the tablet. "Even though she doesn't know it, she's wearing a tracker. It hadn't emitted any signal until now, but now she gave me a faint signal before disappearing near the U.S. border. So let's stop wasting time regretting what we didn't do right and let's go find her." "Shit! The border? The last thing I need is international agencies involved in this." He grabbed his jacket and quickly put it on. Silently, we all left the office, prepared. Anaís Garnie

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    His eyes met mine again. “I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. I loved my mother; I would never have wanted to hurt her.” He sighed. “But she was crazy. One night after Thanksgiving dinner, she murdered my father and my two younger sisters. She tried to stab me, but I fought her. It was her life or mine; it's amazing what the survival instinct can turn us into.” I did not know what to say. Mason put his knife and fork on either side of his plate. “Our survival instincts are impressive, don’t you think?” I swallowed hard. “It is.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “I know what you're doing, Anaís. You're acting very well, and if I were a person with average intelligence, I would have believed you. But don't underestimate me; there are many ways to escape me, but being smarter than me is not one of them.” Feeling exposed and stupid, I stopped eating too. “So what do you want me to do? Attack you? Scream? Disobey you?” “Of course not,” he shook his head. “I think it's gr

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    Chained...That's how I felt, and I wasn't just referring to the chain around my ankle but also to the feeling of being psychologically trapped.I was sitting on the bed, my feet dangling, the chain rubbing against the floor, making a slight noise. I didn't know how many days had passed; I had realized that there was no point in counting them. I only knew that with the passage of time, the helplessness and sadness had given way to a feeling that had overwhelmed me many times after the murder of my family: numbness. I couldn't feel anything, no matter how hard I tried. What was the point of feeling if I couldn't change anything? If I couldn't do anything about it?The routine had been the same every day: get up, shower, have breakfast with Mason, walk with him, come back for lunch and watch some TV, have dinner, and sleep together.The first night, I couldn't sleep a single second with him next to me, even though he kept his distance, but as the days went by, I got used to it. Fortunat

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    Six months ago. Mason Stevens Her tears... That was the first thing that caught my attention, not her outfit, nor the way her blonde hair fell rebelliously on the sides of her face. She was pretty, but she was not my type—too perfect for my taste. Well, not so perfect; she had just left crying from the office of the most renowned psychiatrist in this place, so consumed in her tears that she didn't even notice me sitting on the stairs. She passed me by as if I were invisible, and maybe, in her little world, I was. Bored, I got up and decided to follow her out. The winter cold greeted me relentlessly, so I just stuck my hands in my coat, sucking on the mint candy I had taken from the receptionist, Bella, who, despite being in her 30s, looked 50. Don't get me wrong, she was nothing special, but I was bored, and I wasn't in the mood for another session with my psychiatrist. He had been interesting at first, but the moment I was able to easily manipulate him, he lost all my attention

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    He took two steps toward me. "You say you hate me, but you can't, and that makes you angry." Don't come near me. He didn't stop, forcing me back until the back of my knees touched the bed behind me. "Despite everything, you can't help but feel the way you feel about me." I hate him, I hate him; he's a murderer. I keep repeating it in my head over and over again. But Logan didn't let me think; he grabbed me by the waist tightly with one arm, sticking me to him. I struggled, trying to free myself. —Let me go, Logan! He gave me that signature crooked smile of his. I missed you, Anaís. Before I could say anything, he used his free hand to grab me by the neck and smash his lips against mine. Those soft lips that were so familiar and that I had kissed so many times still felt good against mine, but I couldn't respond. I fought against that feeling of comfort and pushed him away. Logan stepped back, smiling. I slapped him as hard as I could. —Don't you ever do that again. Logan con

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    Memories………Blood... So much blood on my hands... I move my fingers in front of my face, warm blood sliding down them, running down my palms to my wrists and falling into the void. Stop... That soft voice... angelic... I turned around, but there was only darkness around me. Where am I? I'll bite you back, red princess. Mason's voice in the distance made me fall to my knees, a sharp pain spreading through my head, squeezing my skull, making me gasp in agony. I'm not interested in you; I'm interested in Anaís. It hurts so much. I heard footsteps approaching me; they were slow and steady. Whoever it was was in no hurry. Holding my throbbing head, I managed to stand up, staggering from side to side. The light came back around me, blinding and imposing, and there in front of me was my father. Dad? —I couldn't believe it. I hurried towards him. —Dad, my head hurts so much. Standing in front of him, my father smiled and hugged me, but instead of feeling good, it was the opposite

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