MONSTER

Cassandra's heart hammered against her ribcage and a cold sweat broke out on her skin. She might not be alive to see the brightness of day. This monster of a man standing in front of her, although he was a sexy structure, covered in casual vintage clothing, was also a living terror. His eyes have a way of growing five shades darker whenever he was furious and she had seen this look on him before, on the night they were supposed to spend together.

She might be a strong-willed woman, but he unnerves her, and his presence unravels her thoughts. She always has a war going on in her whenever he was present, and he wondered if every woman felt the same way for him. He was a magnetic force of attraction, and she hates that she could still be attracted to him in that way when she hated him so much and when he frightens her so much. It was a fatal attraction.

There was nothing for her to do but back away, but he came after her, his eyes focused on her, his smile downright dangerous. That he was smiling surprised her until she remembered that his smile was more brutal that his frown. Her lips quivered. She wanted to start apologizing to start saying something, but something told her that the man right in front of her, coming after her, stalking her with his wicked eyes like a predator about to devour its prey needed no explanations. She prayed silently for help to come her way, but prayers don't always work.

Her back hit the wall, and his palms hit the wall at the very next instant, either side of her head trapping her there. He was so close that she could feel his heat and drink in his cologne. It toyed with her senses, and she almost felt giddy by it if not for her heart that was pounding for different reasons. He grabbed her neck with one palm, wrapping his fingers around her, tightening them. Her hands went up to his, one arm around her neck, but her strength was no match for his.

He was strangling the air out of her, her eyes were popping out, and she was gasping for air, but his eyes grew darker and darker that she knew that she was breathing her last. She choked and tried to speak.

"Pl... plea...please..."

His hold loosened on her, and he left her neck. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, wrapping her hands around her neck, coughing, and trying to catch her breath.

"B*tch," he cussed.

She looked up at him, their eyes met only that hers were filled with hate. All the attraction she felt for him a few seconds ago was dispelled. He grabbed her hair and made her stand up. She fought the tears that were threatening to run down. She wouldn't humor him by crying. She knew he wanted her to plead for his mercy, he wanted her to cry and break down in his front. She had just tried that now and she wasn't willing to try it anymore. She won't let him win, even though he was likely to, she was going to give it her best shot.

He shoved her to the wall and pinned her head to the wall with his forearm on her neck, then he leaned closer to her ear, and she felt his breath fanning hot on her cheek.

"You will pay for ever raising your filthy hands on me, more importantly, I am going to make you beg me to f*ck you, and I am going to f*ck you so hard that you would plead for mercy. I won't force myself on you, you will come willingly to me, crawling begging, crying." His voice was cold as steel, and it sent chills all over her body. He moved away from her, looking into his eyes.

All she saw was a monster, the devil in human form and she couldn't hold back the hate she felt. She dragged in a deep breath, but it was spiced by his scent. Then a lone tear slid down her cheek.

"I hate you, monster," she snarled, glaring at him, daring him with her eyes to hit her, that was what he was good at anyway.

~~~

Dimitra thought she heard a noise. She jerked up from bed and looked towards the door with a frown perched on her brows. Was it in her dream she heard that noise? Her room was dark but a thin line of light from the living room slipped into the room from the crack on the door. She groped around for her phone, found it, and turned it on. It was ten p.m. She had just decided to take a nap after a hectic day at work, but she had slept far too long. Her roommate had gone to her mother's place, and she was home alone. The noise came again from the kitchen, she quickly turned on her bedroom lights, climbed out of bed, and wore her slippers, grabbing the baseball club she keeps by her bedside just in case.

She slowly moved to the door, her whole body quivering with fear, her grip tightening around the baseball club. She turned the knob and slowly opened the door, pulling it back as gently as she could but it still made cracking noise. She opened it wide enough to let herself out and then she peeped into the living room. There was no one there and there was no sign of intrusion. She let herself out of the room, her eyes darting from one place to another, searching to see if anyone was hiding somewhere.

"Hello?" she called; her voice filled with fear. Then she slowly moved towards the kitchen, it was dark in there, so she turned the lights on, but there was no one in there.

She frowned. Maybe she was just imagining things. There was no sign of anybody in the kitchen. She breathed with relief and lowered her weapon. It must be a dream she was having and had just picked up those sounds from that dream. She turned but was too late to see the person behind her.

A punch sent her crashing to the floor and a scream tore through her throat. Something tickled down her nose and she touched it to see it was blood. She looked up to see a woman clad in leather blank pants and a jacket with gloves. Her face was masked but her blonde hair was loosened and cascaded down her shoulders.

"Hello Dimitra Alonso," said the lady in black.

"Who are you and want do you want?" Dimitra asked, her voice shaken with fear, as she scooted back into the kitchen.

"I am your death, and I am here to kill you," the woman said in an amused voice.

"What do you want from me?"

"Something that belongs to me. I want you to stay away from what belongs to me and the only way I can do that is by killing you." The woman took out a knife from her holster and the blade shimmered in the light. She stooped to Dimitra's level. "You must have heard about the other women who have died mysteriously."

"Please, let me go," Dimitra cried.

"Aww," the lady said tucking a strand of hair that had fallen on Dimitra's face with the back of the knife's blade. "You are so vulnerable, and I will just feel bad killing you."

"I will do whatever you want," Dimitra sobbed.

"You are too attached, and once I visit, it's death." The lady stood up again. "Getting this opportunity is not easy for me. I have always tried to visit you, but you are always at Eros or your dad's, or your roommate is around. This is an opportunity and I grabbed it; I can't let it slide."

Dimitra's eyes shifted to the knives on the kitchen counter. If only the lady would turn her back a little bit, she would quickly grab a knife. But that was easier said than done. She might not be as fast as the lady. She searched for another option. She was not going to die; she was not going to die like this. The lady took out a gun from her back.

"Choose a way to die." She pointed the gun at Dimitra. "If you choose this, it will send you straight beyond without pain...or a little pain. But this." She raised the knife. "This will let you die a slow and very painful death."

Dimitra looked around for something to save herself, but nothing was in sight. She sobbed. The baseball club was lying a few feet away from her and she couldn't reach it as quickly as possible with the lady looking at her. She looked behind the lady and gasped. The lady turned to see what was giving her the reaction. Dimitra seized that opportunity and quickly grabbed the baseball club, but the lady turned before she could use it properly. It hit the lady's hand where the gun was, luckily, the gun fell and clattered to the floor. The lady was skilled, she quickly swung her other hand where the knife was and drove it into Dimitra.

Dimitra's eyes widened as she saw blood gushing out of her. But she used her last strength to fling the baseball club. It hit the woman on the head, and she fell with a thud. Dimitra crashed to the floor too. Her blood poured out on the kitchen floor. She needed help she couldn't just die like that. The lady would wake up anytime soon and if she was still there, she wouldn't spare her. She managed to grab the gun and crawl out of the kitchen, into the living room, her blood, leaving trails on the floor, the knife, still in her. She thought of going to her room to grab her phone to call for help—to call Eros, but he might not be in the mood of taking calls and the intruder might wake before help arrives. Her only option was to find a way out of the apartment and go to Eros'.

But would she make it there alive?