Carl Returned

Regrettably, my momentary relief dissipated as soon as I unlocked the door and took a step inside. A cold, wet hand gripped tightly around my ankle, sending a shiver down my spine and causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin.
In the doorway, my body froze, legs awkwardly positioned with one foot inside the room and the other outside, ensnared by the grip of an unknown man. Fear paralyzed me, and I dared not look back to identify the intruder. Sweat streamed down my face, as if a bucket of water had been dumped over my head.
Desperation urged me to push against the slippery hold on my ankle, but my attempts to break free proved futile. A voice, hauntingly familiar, whispered, "Bella, don’t go. I need you."
Compelled to confront the source of the plea, I turned my head to find him. He lay on the floor, contorted like a crippled log, his arm extended and clinging desperately to my leg.
Crouching beside him, I worked to unlock his fingers, wet with sweat. In his sleep-induced mutterings, he babbled about his girlfriend, pleading for her not to leave. With care, I curled his arm around my neck, lifting his limp body onto his feet. Together, we walked into the room, and I closed the door behind us.
Despite being Carl's friend, a soft spot developed within me for this troubled soul, witnessing his unconscious turmoil as he uttered his girlfriend's name repeatedly, desperately imploring her to stay.
Perhaps, my empathy for him had sparked even before that unsettling encounter, though I couldn't be certain. Regardless, that's how we found ourselves together for the first time—him and me, in a new apartment where I knew little more than his name, Arthur.
A subtle, controlled smile curled upon my lips as I whispered his name. Guiding him to one of the sofas in the living room, I flicked on the apartment lights. His warm breath brushed against my skin, slipping through the open collar and gently trailing down my chest.
Gazing at his peaceful, sleeping face, I couldn't help but marvel at the circumstances that led us here. Fortunately, Carl's apartment had two rooms. I made my way across the hall, opened the door, and illuminated the room with its soft lighting.
The space was inviting, adorned with delicate and luxurious furniture. The bed, neatly made with floral white bedsheets, invited me to rest. Casting a lingering look at Arthur's serene face, I withdrew from the living room.
Falling onto the welcoming bed, I surrendered to its comfort, and as if the day's events had drained me entirely, sleep embraced me swiftly.
The persistent banging shattered the tranquility of my sleep, each thud echoing through the room. I estimated it had been going on for the past fifteen minutes, disrupting what little rest I managed to find. Turning onto my stomach, I groggily reached for my phone on the side table to check the time—8:30 am. I was incensed. Who dared to disturb my sleep at such an ungodly hour?
Being far from a morning person myself, Carl, who knew this well, couldn't be the culprit behind the relentless knocking. So, who was it?
Furrowing my brow with concern, I rolled onto my back and stared at the plain ceiling. Another round of banging jolted me into action. Throwing off the blanket, I ambled lazily toward the door, irritation mounting with each step. With an abrupt motion, I swung the door open to confront the intruder.
A figure clad in olive jeans and a black shirt towered over me, his dark, charismatic orbs fixed on mine. Seductive and intense, I found myself unable to resist the urge to get lost in those eyes.
The atmosphere he exuded now differed from the one of the previous night. His persona seemed more defined and sophisticated, evident in the way he stood, balanced on both feet.
Cutting through the tension, I confronted him immediately, "What's your problem?"
"Excuse me?" he countered, raising an eyebrow.
I fired off a barrage of questions, "May I ask who you are? What are you doing here, and who brought me here?"
He chuckled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Woohoo! So many questions at once. Hold on, I won't finish swiftly." He seemed ready for a prolonged discussion, and I found myself captivated by his magnetic eyes, taking in the lingering scent of alcohol and his sophisticated demeanor.
"Well, you're in my house right now," I declared proudly.
His gaze flickered around in amazement before returning to me. "Are you kidding me? This is not your apartment."
Defiantly, I asserted, "I'm not new in this place. It belongs to my friend Carl."
He scrutinized me, his tone plain. "You must be his guest or girlfriend, if I'm not wrong."
Annoyed, I huffed, "I'm not his damn girlfriend."
"Okay! Then who are you?" he inquired with an air of curiosity.
"I'm his sister," I declared.
His gaze traveled from my toes to my head and then locked onto my eyes. "I see."
"So, you brought me in here?" I questioned.
"Yes."
"Why?" His expression hardened.
Summoning courage, I admitted, "Because you were pleading by holding my feet."
I chose to be straightforward, indifferent to whatever his reaction might be. "Even in my dreams, I wouldn't do that to you or anyone else," he retorted, a puzzled look on his face.
"But you did, if not in your dreams, then in reality," I retorted, a proud smile on my face.
He twisted his lips, attempting to recall the events of the previous night. From his perplexed expressions, it was evident that his efforts were in vain. "Are you trying to take revenge on me?" he questioned.
"Why would I do that?" I countered. He pursed his lips, searching for an answer.
Before we could delve further into conversation, the distant sound of keys turning in the lock reached my ears. It could only be Carl, as he was the sole keeper of the apartment keys. A sigh of relief escaped me as I saw him approaching across the hall.
Even from a distance, I could sense his unease at finding me standing with a man, especially one who was his friend. Ignoring the emerging awkwardness, I moved forward and embraced Carl.
"Thank God, you arrived. I was dying to meet you after so long."
Carl returned my hug, a mix of surprise and discomfort evident on his face. He gently pulled away, his eyes flickering between me and the mysterious man.
"Bella, who's this?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.
"Meet Arthur. He brought me here," I replied, gesturing towards the man in olive jeans and a black shirt.
Carl shot Arthur a questioning look. "And why is my sister being brought here in the early morning?"
Before I could answer, Arthur interjected, "I found her outside the apartment. She seemed disoriented, so I brought her in."
Carl's gaze shifted from Arthur to me, skepticism in his eyes. "Disoriented? Bella, what happened?"
I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "I...I don't remember much. I think I had a strange encounter last night."
Carl's concern deepened. "Are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?"
"No, no, I'm fine now," I reassured him. "Arthur here helped me. It's just a weird situation."
Arthur spoke up, "I'll take off. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."
As Arthur left, Carl turned to me, a protective edge to his expression. "Bella, you've got to tell me everything that happened."
We moved to the living room, and I recounted the bizarre events of the previous night. As I spoke, Carl's concern grew, and we began to piece together the puzzle of that mysterious evening.