9. Lyric

Chapter nine

Lyric

THE CLOCK SEEMED TO MOCK me as it ticked past ten, my mind still racing with conflicting thoughts. The police's questions lingered alongside the memories of the mysterious vigilante who was searching for and killing the men who hurt me. Was he a hero or just another criminal trying to use me for his own fucked-up intentions? Some of me wanted to trust and believe in his intentions, but the rest of me was filled with doubt and fear. I couldn't decipher if he was trying to protect or pull me further into his dangerous world.

I lay in bed, my eyes tracing the intricate patterns of the white ceiling above me. Images from that night flooded my mind like a movie reel, replaying every detail with vivid clarity. I could still see him emerge from the alley. His movements were fluid and precise as he quickly took down Devin and Michael. It was as if he were dancing, effortlessly swaying between them before delivering swift blows that left both men on the ground. The memory sent shivers down my spine as I replayed it repeatedly in my mind.

As we got closer together, his eyes went from distant and unfeeling to alight with pleasure; it was like he was delighted to have me near him. It was as if he were looking into my soul, reading my thoughts and emotions as if I had written them in a journal just for him. His gaze made me feel vulnerable as if I had no secrets to keep. I wanted him to see them, to see me, and I felt guilty for it.

But boom, like that, he forced me away with a simple word.

Who the hell runs from the word 'boo'? I do; that's who.

Frustrated and restless, I toss and turn in bed, trying to find a comfortable position. But my brain wouldn't slow down, my thoughts racing and keeping me awake. My eyes roam around the dark room, searching for relief from my insomnia. As they settle on the window, I am surprised to see a faint red light emanating from outside. My forehead furrows in confusion as I take in the unexpected sight, wondering what could be causing the mysterious glow in the dead of the night.

What the fuck.

Heart racing, I flung the heavy comforter aside and tiptoed across the room to the window. With trembling hands, I pulled back the curtain and looked down at the figure on the lush green lawn three floors down. Panic surged through me as my mind raced with possibilities.

He knew where I lived?

Was he watching me? His gaze seemed fixed on my windowpane.

His hand moved slowly until he gently touched his mask with a finger, suggesting quietness.

Yes, he could definitely see me.

My heart pounded as I rushed to the room's far corner, pressing myself against the wall beside the window. I held my breath and counted to ten before cautiously peeking out. The lawn was deserted now, and there was no sign of him. I searched beyond the dirty window pane, hoping to glimpse his retreating figure, but he was gone. Relief washed over me as I sagged against the wall, my heart racing.

This was a nerve-wracking situation. Carmen decided to spend the night at her boyfriend's place, and most of the dormitory was either buried in books or drunk at off-campus parties.

Where was my tattooed hero from class when I needed him?

Was this mysterious figure a hunter stalking his prey? Did revenge drive him, or was he indulging in some twisted desires? I wondered as my eyes still searched the campus below.

The heavy, creaking dormitory door clicked shut behind me like a final punctuation mark, jolting me out of my reverie and scattering my thoughts like a frightened school of fish. I turned slowly, taking in the eerie darkness that enveloped the room. A faint red light glimmered off the wall, casting an otherworldly glow. The silence was almost deafening as realization sank in.

He's here.

I spun around to face him. The executioner who had been slaying my abusers was standing in my room, a trophy in his sight - me.

Each step he took was calculated and steady; his shoulders squared confidently. My throat constricted as I saw him coming closer, his gaze fixed on me. My hands shook as I tried to steady my breathing.

"What do you want?" I choked, breaking the silence.

As he approached, I could see the wild glint in his dark eyes, like a fire burning deep within. As he strode closer, the dimly lit dorm room seemed to shrink around him. The faint streetlight filtered through the window, casting eerie shadows across his face, accentuating the intense look in his deep brown eyes. The sliver of light followed him as he entered back into the darkness, his slow and menacing steps echoing throughout the room.

He remained silent.

"P-please, don't hurt me." I pleaded as he closed in on me. I recoiled back against the wall.

The man tilted his head, his eyes glinting with curiosity and desire. He slowly extended his arm, bringing it closer to my face, until his gloved fingers hovered just centimeters away. I instinctively flinched, turning my head to the side to avoid his touch. His intense gaze traveled across my body, not as a predator but as an admirer, taking in every inch of me. Despite my reaction, his fingers remained suspended in the air, almost as if he was afraid to break the spell between us.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts instead of my usually baggy hoodie, which always concealed my figure.

His fingers glided across my cheek, moved down to my neck, and traced a line along my collarbone. I didn't reject his touch this time; strangely enough, I accepted it. When I looked down, I saw that he had left bloody streaks on my skin. It was Michael's blood.

What was his purpose here? To alleviate my distress by allowing my abuser's blood to saturate my skin like lotion?

Hell no, I don't want any parts of those fuckers on me, near me, or in me.

I recoiled from his touch, shaking my head in disbelief while giving him an icy glare. "What do you expect from me? Gratitude? That is not going to happen. You're killing people. That doesn't make you any better than them," I seethed, my voice rising with each word. His hand shot out and grabbed me by the neck, pressing me into the wall. His eyes were black pits of rage.

"You'll come around, Reina." He murmured close to my ear, his hot breath fanned against my neck.

Reina? What the hell did he call me?

I was taken aback when he spoke, his voice breaking the silence. It wasn't his natural tone, just a voiceover, but it was the first time he had said anything other than "boo".

"Reina?" I inquired.

He laughed and said, "It means Queen in Spanish."

"Why would you call me that?"

He slowly pulled away from my neck, removed his glove, and ran his thumb gently across my lower lip. "Because you are my Queen." His inky eyes searched mine. "Now, you have a choice. Trey is next. You can warn him or be my good Reina and watch him suffer," he concluded.

He backed away from me, retreating until he reached the door. He paused, looking over at me with my back against the wall where he had pinned me moments before. His dark eyes swept over me once more before locking with mine. "Choose wisely, Reina," he warned, leaving my dorm.

With trembling hands, I sank to the ground, my back pressed against the cold wall. A wave of conflicting emotions crashed over me as I tried to steady my breathing and calm my racing thoughts,

What was he implying when he said to choose wisely? Would I be punished if I chose wrong?

The following day, Carmen returned to the dorm after her night with her boyfriend. It was Saturday, so there were no classes, and I really wanted a coffee. However, Carmen was lecturing me about going out after the previous night's encounter with my abuser's killer.

"You can't be serious. You want to go running around the damn town like nothing happened like it's normal to have some masked guy breaking into our dorm?" Carmen argued.

Why was she being so difficult? She said the other day that she wasn't scared, and now she's acting like he's going to murder us all.

I sighed, placing my laptop in my bag, then turned towards her. "Carmen, if he can get in our dorm, don't you think I'm not safe anywhere I go, anyway? I don't think getting a coffee matters at this point."

She let out a sigh and ran her fingers over her forehead. "They had to give me the roommate who has a stalker that likes to kill people. Why couldn't he just be a normal stalker and just be obsessed?"

I walked up to Carmen and grabbed both of her shoulders. "Hey, it's okay. He's not going to kill us. We were alone together. He had the chance to hurt me, but he didn't."

She gave me a deadpan look. "Speak for yourself. He's obsessed with you, not me. Maybe he'll think I'm just in his way and kill me to get to you," Her dark orbs of brown are slits of soft eclipse, worried and tired.

"Carmen, he said that he was only out for those who hurt me. He has no reason to kill you." I told her, hoping that would calm her down so I could get the damn coffee that I needed right now.

Despite her gothic appearance, she was surprisingly easily frightened. I always assumed that individuals who embraced the goth culture enjoyed spooky shit.

"Alright." She breathed. "I have brunch with my parents. Just be careful, and I'll see you later." She grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

"Brunch?" I called out before she could leave.

She glanced backward at me, then gave a slight shrug. "Rich parents," she said, chuckling as she walked away, signaling goodbye with a wave.

I left the warm, aromatic cafe and stepped into the teeming sunlight. The temperature was mild for a November day, only requiring my lightweight red hoodie and black leggings. I walked through the park, taking in the vibrant hues of autumn foliage, letting my hood down as pockets of cool air caressed my face.

I strolled along the red brick sidewalk by the lake. The trees, laden with orange and yellow leaves, fluttered like a blanket of rain around me. My beloved pumpkin spice latte warmed my chilly hands as I held it up to my lips, taking sips as my eyes took in the beauty of Savannah fall.

A playground caught my attention. Youngsters were running around, laughing heartily, and shouting at one another in the middle of a hide-and-seek game. It reminded me of my childhood days. Life wasn't easy back then, but it certainly was less tainted than now.

I ventured deeper into the park and saw a bench overlooking the lake. Sitting and sipping my coffee, I watched a few ducks that had stayed for the winter season.

I felt like those ducks. I'm sitting here in a relentless circle of torment. I could fly to a new place, but what good would it do? The memories would haunt me no matter where I was.

I exhaled and leaned against the bench when I heard footsteps on the leaf-covered grass.

"Lyric." A voice called, along with a few laughs from a few others. "What brings you out suddenly? Oh, is it because you have some tough guy wreaking havoc against my friend that you feel it's safe for you to come out and enjoy your life again?" Trey asked in a menacing tone.

My eyes darted around as I stood on the bench. The park felt very empty suddenly. The five guys standing before me were most likely my attackers from the video, and they were all eyeing me with hatred and malice.

My racing heart echoed in my ears as I desperately searched for an escape route, but there was no way out. The assailants kept advancing, cornering me in the process.

When I stepped back, intending to escape, I only stumbled into a tree trunk. "Just leave me alone," I begged.

Trey stood before me while the others closed around me, and that night came back to me. They all had that predatory look in their eyes, just like before.

Two of the guys lunged forward, each grabbing hold of one of my arms while Trey's iron grip clamped onto my jaw. With violent force, he slammed the back of my head against a sturdy tree trunk. My latte, held tightly in my hand, was suddenly thrown into chaotic disarray, tumbling downhill until it finally rested in the lake's murky waters below.

"Where's your masked hero now?" Trey chuckled. "It's funny. He only comes out to play at night." Trey's mocking laughter echoed through the deserted park as he scanned the area for potential witnesses. Satisfied that we were alone, he turned his attention back to me and slyly slipped his hand under my hoodie, inching it towards my chest. A knot formed in my throat as tears welled up and trickled down my cheeks, not from fear but from seething anger.

I stared straight into Trey's eyes with a sly grin, feeling the salty tears slide into my mouth as I spoke. "You're next," I growled, relishing in the thought of watching his torment unfold before me.

His gaze narrowed, suspicion and fear evident as he tried to decipher if my words were valid. But before he could respond, a hulking figure appeared between us, forcefully pushing Trey away from me with one swift movement.

"You put that hand on her again, and I'll cut that bitch off and shove it so far up your ass, you'll be waving to people from your mouth." The man growled.

It was the inked man from class. My second hero. His voice was so seductive and deep; it made me so weak in the knees that I gripped onto the back of his black shirt for support.

"We were just talking to her." One pipped.

"Talking?" He chuckled. "It looked to me like you were cornering her like little bitch boys."

My heart raced almost as if it were about to jump out of my chest. My vision became foggy, and I leaned my forehead against his back between his shoulder blades, feeling his body tense under my touch. Instead of moving away, he let me cling to him until I could regain control of my breathing and heartbeat.

They backed away, and Trey spoke. "We'll see you soon, Lyric."

I peered past the inked hero. "You won't," I declared confidently.

Trey tilted his head and chuckled. "And why is that?"

I stepped out from behind the man. "I already told you. Your fate is set." And with that, I fled from the scene, frantically sprinting out of the park.

Once I was back in civilization, I tried to cross the street when a hand caught my forearm and spun me around.

I let out a little yelp of surprise from my lips.

"Where are you going?" The inked man asked.

"It was a bad idea to go to the park. I should have known better. They will come looking for me. I need to get back to the dormitory." I attempted to walk away, but he held on firmly to my arm.

"They won't hurt you again, I promise." He assured me.

"Why?" I asked, looking into his eyes as if the answer would be spelled out in them.

"Why what?" He replied.

"You don't even know me. Why are you helping me?" I questioned as my eyes searched his, trying to determine their familiarity.

My eyes shifted back up to his. "Who are you?"

"Xander." He pulled his hand away from my forearm and offered it to me for a shake.

I paused briefly, then slowly extended my hand toward his. "Lyric, but I'm sure you already know that."

"Yeah, but it's nice to hear it from you." A smile spread across his face, exposing perfectly white teeth. He didn't look intimidating when he wasn't scowling at me.

"Well, thank you, Xander, for everything," I said gratefully. "I should go." I smiled faintly and walked past him.