Clink!
The bell above the door jingled endlessly as customers flowed in and out, the hum of conversations filling the air at a supermarket.
"Thank you so much! Have a great evening!" The cashier chirped cheerfully, handing the last customer their receipt before offering a practiced smile.
Nearby, the store manager—a middle-aged woman with curly brown hair, sharp brown eyes, and a bellsome figure—checked her watch and let out a sigh.
"Alright, folks, we're closing up for the night." Her voice carried across the room, authoritative but not unkind. "It's 8 PM, so we're checking out the last customers. If you need anything else, grab it now."
Minutes later, as the final transactions wrapped up, she paid the cashiers their wages and sent them off with a nod.
Then silence enveloped the atmosphere. The supermarket was empty now, just the quiet hum of refrigeration units and the soft flicker of fluorescent lights overhead.
She moved through the aisles, making her final rounds—ensuring shelves were neat, tills secured, everything as it should be.
But then— she felt a chill. A sudden coldness ran down her spine, sharp and menacing. She dismissed it at first, as just fatigue and paranoia from working late.
Just then— Clink!
The bell at the entrance rang again. She froze and her pulse raced.
Someone had just entered. But the doors had already been locked.
Frustration flared as she turned sharply toward the front. "Hey! Didn't you read the sign? We are clo—sed."
Her words died in her throat. Her breath hitched as she took in the sight of the intruder in front of her. A towering, muscular man stood before her—his presence suffocating, unnatural. Dark hair cascaded past his broad shoulders, framing his sharp, menacing features. But it was his eyes—his eyes—that struck terror into her chest.
Deep. Blackened. And dripping red—as if blood seeped from his pupils. He wore all black, his silhouette blending into the dim evening glow, and the deathly aura emanating from him sent every nerve in her body into alarm.
He silently pulled out a phone, its dim screen displaying an image.
Then—he spoke. His voice was deep. Low. Rumbling. A voice that felt like it didn't belong to this world.
"Have you seen this man?"
A simple question. But it felt like a threat. She swallowed hard. Her throat felt dry.
"N-n-no… I haven't seen him b-before…"
She didn't dare look at the picture—her focus was locked onto the monster before her.
He didn't like that and without warning, he lunged forward—his hand fisting into her curls, yanking her hard. A scream strangled in her throat as pain exploded across her scalp.
"I won't ask again, bitch!" His voice dripped with venom. "Look. At. The. Picture! If you've seen him, you tell me. Now!! Otherwise—"
His grip tightened.
"I'll rip your hair from your skull."
Her breath came out in ragged gasps. "Oww—please! I swear, I haven't seen him! Let me go—please!"
His eyes darkened further.
"No."
His grip didn't loosen.
"I want you to see this face clearly. If this man ever comes by here, you will tell me immediately. And if you dare call the cops? If you so much as whisper this to anyone—"
He leaned in, his presence smothering.
"I will make sure you regret it."
Then—he shoved her away, releasing his grip. She crashed onto the floor, her palms scraping against cold tile. Her chest heaved, her body shaking as she looked up at him—praying he would just leave.
He stared down at her for another agonizing moment. Then, slowly, he tucked the phone back into his pocket. His voice returned to that terrible, monotonous tone.
"I'm staying at the motel across the street.
I'll be keeping an eye on this place. If you see him—call me."
He tossed a slip of paper onto the floor. Then, without another word—he turned. And walked out.
The door clinked shut behind him leaving the room engulfed in silence.
The woman stayed motionless for a long, long time—her breath uneven, her fingers trembling against the cold tile.
Then—she scrambled to her feet. Her instincts screamed at her to relock the doors. She raced toward the entrance, twisting the lock violently, checking it twice—just to be sure.
Then, flicking off the lights, she grabbed her belongings with shaking hands and slipped out through the side door—her heart hammering as she vanished into the night.
She stepped out into the cool night air, her breath steady but cautious. Her eyes flicked left, then right—scanning the dimly lit streets, searching for any lingering shadows, any sign that someone was watching. She saw nothing...no one.
Satisfied, she slipped into the dark alley beside the shop. The air felt colder here—thicker, heavier. She walked briskly, stepping over scattered debris, her shoes scuffing against damp pavement. The alley seemed to stretch forever, its abyss-like darkness swallowing everything beyond a few feet ahead.
Then—she reached a dead end. But nestled within the rugged walls was a small, hidden door. She fumbled with her keys, slipping a thin one into the lock, twisting it swiftly.
The door creaked open. Darkness greeted her. A presence loomed inside. Before she could react....a figure lunged at her.
"Jonny—it's me!!" She whisper-shouted, hands raised defensively.
Then—she clicked on a light switch. A dim yellow glow flickered to life, casting shadows across the small, cramped room.
A single bed rested against the far wall, where a little girllay fast asleep—her tiny frame curled beneath a thin blanket.
Nearby, a cluttered table was littered with empty takeout containers, greasy wrappers, and half-drunk soda bottles.
Suitcases lined the floor, half-packed—ready to move at a moment's notice.
And Jonathan looked wrecked.
His hair was unruly, his gray tracksuit rumpled and loose on his frame. His eyes, which were once sharp and bright, were now tired and haunted.
The baseball bat clutched tightly in his grip slowly lowered before he exhaled sharply.
"Sorry, Aunty Cheryl." His voice was hoarse, weighed down by exhaustion. "I thought you were one of those bastards who found me."
He slumped against the wall near the door, rubbing his temples.
Cheryl, meanwhile, glanced around, wrinkling her nose.
"Urrgh! This place is a mess!" She crossed her arms. "I know you're in hiding, but did you have to be so… filthy"
She stepped forward, eyeing the cluttered table. "And seriously, Jonny? This place looks like pigsty! Look at this trash—you're living like a wild animal."
Her fingers combed through her hair, wincing. "And not to mention..one of your goons pulled my hair! What the hell did you do that has monsters chasing after you?! Honestly! I always told James and Marie that if they kept spoiling you, you'd turn into a good-for-nothing, reckless nitwit—running around causing trouble and fathering bastards all over the damn place!"
Jonathan remained silent. Then—he muttered, his voice tight—"The man who came to the shop looking for me… What did he look like?"
Cheryl huffed, still irritated. "Like a damn nightmare. If a man could be compared to a monster, he'd take the whole cake. Huge—bulky—long dark hair—and those eyes.God, those monstrous—hey!"
She stumbled as Jonathan scrambled to his feet, bumping into her in his frantic movements.
His hands darted around the floor, grabbing loose clothing, tossing them haphazardly into suitcases.
Cheryl blinked. "Jonny! What the hell?! You can't just bump into me like—"
"We have to go! We have to leave—now!"
His voice was sharp and urgent. Jonathan spun toward her, panic flashing across his face. "How did he know I was here?! He must've figured it out because of the distance where I left the car. He must've already placed patrols all over town! And you—you should have left instead of coming here!!"
Cheryl groaned, shaking her head. "I came to check on you! And I checked the area first—nobody was watching me, nobody was following me—OH! What are you doing?!"
Jonathan had pulled open a suitcase—his hands swiftly retrieving a gun and loading it.
Cheryl froze."Jonny!" Her voice rose. "Are you insane?! What the hell do you need that for?!"
Jonathan's face was grim. He handed her Tulip.
"Aunty—I need you to take Tulip. We're making a break for it to your car. I don't know if someone followed you here, and I'm not taking chances."
Cheryl hesitated, then nodded, cradling Tulip carefully.
Jonathan threw the last few items into the suitcases, yanking them toward the door.
He unlocked it. Then—slowly—he cracked the door just enough to peek outside.
He heard silence and saw darkness. His eyes darted through the alley, searching for movement. There was nothing.
After a moment, he signaled Cheryl to move forward.
She slipped out, keeping Tulip secure in her arms, and made her way toward her car—just a few steps from the side entrance.
She opened the back door, gently settling Tulip into the seat.
Seconds later, Jonathan followed, tossing the suitcases into the back.
Then—he jumped into the passenger seat.
Cheryl slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine.
She shot Jonathan a sharp glance. "You owe me a lo for this."
Without another word—she reversed, pulling out of the alley and onto the street.
The tires screeched softly as they turned onto the main road, their car merging into the night—heading away from town.
The town's lights faded into the distance, swallowed by the open road.
Jonathan finally exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders.
"I guess… they didn't see us."
His gaze flickered to the backseat, where Tulip slept peacefully, her small frame rising and falling with steady breaths.
A fleeting warmth passed through him.
Then—Cheryl spoke.
"So? Where to now?"
Her voice carried an edge, practical and no-nonsense. "You know I can't keep hiding you forever, Jonny. Why not go to Dennisville—to your parents? I know they wouldn't mind keeping a bastard grandchild."
She paused. "You're their only son after all. I bet they'd be thrilled."
Jonathan sighed deeply, shifting slightly in his seat.
"Thanks for sticking around for me, Aunty Cheryl." His voice was quieter now, tinged with something vulnerable. "After all these years… I didn't think you'd still be here."
Cheryl scoffed, keeping her eyes on the road.
"Well, someone has to. You'd be dead by now if I wasn't."
Jonathan chuckled softly but didn't argue.
Then—Cheryl's tone shifted.
"What about your girlfriend?" she mused. "Patricia, right? I heard from Lenny she's the daughter of that deceased world champion derby racer—Simon Milton."
She shook her head. "When I heard you were dating her? I really thought you'd hit the gold mine. Multi-billionaire father, legacy, fortune—hell, Jonny, I thought for once you had some brains."
Her lips curled into a wry smirk. "But I guess I shouldn't have expected better from you."
Jonathan felt his chest tighten. Patricia. Her name alone carried weight, unspoken things. She had been his light. His chance at something real, something pure.
But he had ruined that before it ever began. Because he had been taught to play and move on.
Because his world was too dark for someone like her. Patricia was too pure, too honest and fragile. So even if he began to feel something for her, he just could not take the risk. But right now he has something more precious to protect and he was going to do whatever he can to keep it safe.
Jonathan exhaled sharply. "You're right, Aunty. You shouldn't expect anything from me."
His fingers curled slightly against his knee. "And I can't go to Dennisville—not just because I don't want Mom and Dad tangled in my mess, but because… I'm too ashamed to go back."
The words felt heavier as he spoke them.
"I made a lot of mistakes. Mistakes I'm not proud of. And I can't face them—knowing everything I did wrong. And that... I'm not the son they wanted to be proud of. I'm just…" He swallowed hard. "…a nobody."
Silence filled the car for a long moment. Then—Jonathan's voice dropped lower, quieter.
"And… I won't change that. No matter how hard I try."
His gaze drifted back toward Tulip, her soft breaths steady and unknowing.
"But right now, all I care about is her. Only Tulip. She's the only thing that matters now. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."
His voice cracked slightly. "And I hope that maybe… maybe one day, you'll all forgive me. And the world will forgive me."
Cheryl glanced at him briefly before returning her focus to the road.
She sighed. "Go to Brussels."
Jonathan turned to her, surprised.
She kept speaking, her voice even, firm. "Your father and I bought a house there. It's far—so far it's off the map. And I am sure that your dear admirers will have a hard time to find you there."
She paused. "Go. Start your life over. Give that little princess a good life. She deserves it."
Jonathan felt his throat tighten. His eyes burned. "…Thank you, Aunt."
He meant it. From the depths of his soul.
Cheryl scoffed. "Don't thank me—thank your father. He's the one that convinced me not to sell the house, even when I wanted to. I was ready to flip it for a quick buck to grow my business, but he was so stubborn. Kept on saying—"
She deepened her voice, mimicking his father's gruff tone.
"'Maybe we'll need it someday.'"
She smirked slightly. "Turns out, he was right."
Jonathan chuckled—just slightly. "I guess he was."
Then—Cheryl's grip tightened on the steering wheel. Her tone turned teasing, but her foot pressed harder against the pedal.
"Well—I better step on it then...so you can catch that midnight bus to Monopoly Airport."
She shot him a smirk. "Otherwise? You'll be stuck waiting for two more days, and let's be real—you don't have that kind of time, since you are on the 'run'."
Jonathan chuckled again, shaking his head as Cheryl increased speed.
But— unbeknownst to them. A shadow lurked behind them. Far enough to remain unnoticed.
A black Range Rover followed at a calculated distance—its headlights off, blending perfectly into the dark. And the person inside? He didn't need light. His vision navigated the road perfectly in the dark. He didn't need light to hunt his prey and he was going to make sure, his prey won't escape his jaws this time...
...
'I am sorry that I had to break up with you this way. I am ashamed to face you because of the pain that I have caused. I was truly hoping to create a wonderful future with you but I guess it was not meant to be. I am sorry and I hope you understand. But I do wish you all the happiness in the world because you deserve it.
I am sorry
Jonathan.'
Patricia stared at the message glowing on her phone screen, her grip tightening ever so slightly.
The words were supposed to feel like an apology.
Like closure.
But all she saw was cowardice.
Jonathan had vanished before she could fully execute her revenge. Before she could demand answers, demand justice for everything.
She inhaled slowly, schooling her expression into indifference.
Then—she muttered, voice low but sharp, "The audacity of this scumbag. Running away before I could finish crushing him under my feet properly."
Her jaw tensed before she scoffed.
"Well—good riddance. At least I won't have to deal with him anymore. For now."
With a dismissive flick, she turned off her phone and looked up at her surroundings.
The gazebo was bathed in warm, golden light, casting a soft glow over the evening gathering.
A few feet away, Isaac sat with Davis, Mr. Wilby, and Philip—beers in hand, deep in conversation, their voices carrying through the air.
Not far from them, Zach and Peter sat side by side, their brows furrowed, fingers flying over their phones—locked in an online game.
Yet—every so often, Peter would steal a glance at Alisha, captivated by her radiant beauty whilst she was absorbed in chatter with her best friend, Melissa, who had come over for a visit.
Nicole, as expected, was beside them—grinning like the mischief-maker she was, clearly enjoying teasing the girls far too much.
Patricia exhaled slowly, letting the warmth of the scene sink in.
Her friends and family. They were here, together. Safe. It was rare and beautiful moment.
Her heart swelled—not just with happiness, but gratitude.
She wanted this to last forever.
But— it's a wish that's far out of reach.
Because beyond this peaceful moment, beyond the laughter, the teasing, the light—
Dark clouds loomed in the distance.
And she knew—without a doubt— this was simply the calm before the storm.
The battle ahead would be ruthless.
And escaping it wouldn't be easy.