A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 11 – 20

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 11 – 20

I trudged home, trying to shake off the strangeness of the mansion, but the man’s words kept replaying in my head. “We have been waiting for you, milady… the house is yours.” Every step seemed to echo with his voice, deep and unsettling, reminding me of those dark eyes that held something beyond my understanding.

The streets were empty, the quiet only adding to the heaviness that hung around me. I’d wanted to tell Liam what happened, to explain the eerie feeling that had wrapped around me when the man spoke, but he wouldn’t believe me. He thought I was just spooked by the mansion, and maybe a part of me wished he was right. But now, with every passing minute, the pit in my stomach grew.

When I reached the front of my aunt’s house, I stopped, my breath catching. There, sitting on the front step, was a small box. My name was written on it in elegant, swirling letters, the kind you’d see in old books or on ancient artifacts. I glanced around, but the street was deserted. No one had been near the house when I arrived, and yet… the box was there, waiting for me.

My fingers twitched as I reached for it, hesitant but drawn in by curiosity. It wasn’t heavy, but the craftsmanship was detailed—ornate carvings along the sides, with patterns I couldn’t place. Something about it felt old, far older than anything that should have been on my doorstep. I slipped it into my bag, unsure what to make of it, and then opened the door.

I barely had a second to register the slam of the door behind me before the sharp sting of a hand across my face knocked me back.

“You ungrateful little brat!” my aunt’s voice rang out, and I stumbled, clutching my burning cheek. She stood in front of me, her eyes blazing with fury, and behind her, my cousin smiled, her lips curled with cruel satisfaction. “You think you can just leave whenever you want? I told you to cook! You’re useless. Absolutely useless!”

I swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t dare look at her, knowing that any sign of weakness would only make things worse.

“And after all I’ve done for you,” she continued, her voice seething with venom. “After I took you in. You’re lucky to even have a roof over your head, and this is how you repay me? No wonder your mother didn’t make it. She was as selfish and ungrateful as you.”

Her words hit harder than the slap. The mention of my mother always did. I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, fighting the urge to scream, to shout, to defend myself. But what was the point? Nothing I said would change how she saw me. In her eyes, I was just an unwanted burden, a reminder of the sister she lost.

My cousin, standing smugly in the background, didn’t say a word, but I could feel her satisfaction radiating. She always watched with that same expression whenever my aunt lashed out at me. It was like a performance for her, a cruel game that I was forced to play every day.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, not because I meant it, but because it was the only thing I could say to make her stop. I was too tired to fight today. Too tired to care.

“Sorry?” she spat. “You should be grateful I don’t throw you out into the street. Ungrateful, useless girl.”

With that, she turned on her heel, walking away as though the conversation had never even mattered. I stood there for a moment, my cheek still stinging, before I moved up the stairs to my room. I didn’t glance at my cousin as I passed. I didn’t need to. Her smile said everything.

Once inside my room, I closed the door softly behind me, letting the silence settle. The moment the door clicked shut, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The tears were there, hovering just on the edge, but I swallowed them down. I’d cried enough over the years. This wasn’t new. This wasn’t anything I hadn’t already experienced a hundred times.

I pressed my hand to my cheek, feeling the warmth of the slap still burning into my skin. Slowly, I moved to the bed and sank down onto it, my mind drifting back to the mansion, to the man who had appeared before me. His eyes, his voice—everything about him was unsettling, and yet, there was something familiar, something that made me feel… watched. Even now, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being observed, like his presence still lingered around me, just out of sight.

I reached for my bag, pulling it onto my lap, and carefully slid out the small box. It sat there in my hands, its surface cool and smooth despite the intricate carvings along the edges. I turned it over, trying to find a latch or a seam, but there was none. It opened easily, though, with the lightest touch, the lid lifting silently.

Inside, nestled on a bed of soft velvet, was something I couldn’t quite describe. At first glance, it looked like a small stone, but as I tilted it in the dim light of my room, it caught the light in a way that made it seem alive—almost like it was pulsing, like a heartbeat. I reached out, hesitating for just a second before my fingers brushed against it.

Warm. Too warm.

I jerked my hand back, my heart pounding. What was this? Why was it in a box with my name on it? Who left it for me?

A shiver ran down my spine, and I suddenly felt very, very alone. I glanced around the room, half expecting to see the tall man from the mansion standing in the corner, watching me with those dark, intense eyes. But of course, no one was there. Just me and the strange, glowing object in the box.

I closed the lid quickly, feeling a surge of panic rising in my chest. I didn’t know what this was, but I knew it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t safe. And yet, despite my fear, there was a pull, something deep inside me that wanted to keep it close. Like it was meant for me.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts from my mind. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe everything that had happened today was catching up to me. The mansion, the strange man, the slap from my aunt… it was all too much. I needed to sleep, to forget about it all, even if just for a few hours.

I placed the box on my bedside table and crawled under the covers, pulling them up to my chin. My room was dark, the faint glow from the object barely visible through the cracks of the box’s lid. I closed my eyes, trying to push it all away, but the darkness behind my eyelids only seemed to amplify the strange sensation that something was coming.

As sleep slowly began to take hold, I felt the weight of everything settling into my bones. Relief wash over me but little do I know that, the same man I saw eight years ago will appear in my dream.

Or was I wrong?

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 11 – 20

Click 3 below to continue reading