Chapter 6

DEVIL'S GAME

Dad…

My phone screen lit up, the name flashing in bold letters. My stomach twisted, and my breath caught in my throat. Dad was calling.

A chill ran down my spine as I stared at it, frozen. The air around me suddenly felt suffocating. My fingers tightened around the device, my pulse hammering against my skin.

Michael, standing only a few feet away, noticed my hesitation immediately. His dark eyes sharpened as he took a step closer, his gaze drilling into mine.

“Who is it?” His voice was low, almost a growl.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I turned the phone toward him. "It's my dad," I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips before I could think.

Michael’s gaze flicked down to the screen, his expression unreadable. His jaw flexed as he looked back at me.

"Pick up the call," he said, his tone commanding, his body now only inches from mine.

My fingers hovered over the screen. I hesitated. What would I even say?

"What do I tell him?" My voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

Michael’s expression twisted into something between irritation and disbelief. His patience was wearing thin.

"Pick the goddamn call. Isn’t it your father?" His voice was sharp, clipped, and laced with something that made fear crawl through me.

And then, before I could react, he snatched the phone straight from my grasp.

I gasped, instinctively reaching for it, but Michael had already lifted it to his ear. His demeanor shifted instantly.

"Hello."

His voice was lower now. Darker. The kind of deep that sent shivers down your spine and made the air feel heavy. Whoever was on the other end, my dad would definitely feel it too.

I strained to hear, desperate to catch even a fraction of the conversation, but Michael gave me nothing. His face was blank, his grip on my phone firm.

Then, suddenly, his eyes flicked to mine.

A slow, calculating glance.

"Did she tell you who she was with?" His tone was laced with something sinister. A warning? A taunt?

My heart pounded.

Michael stared at me for another beat before letting out a scoff. "We’ll talk later. I have a job for her."

And just like that, he ended the call.

I barely had time to process what had just happened before….

BZZZT. BZZZT.

The phone vibrated in his hand again.

Another call.

I didn't even get the chance to see who it was before Michael, without even glancing at the screen, flung my phone across the room.

c***k!

I let out a strangled gasp as it hit the ground hard, bouncing off the cold floor before coming to a stop.

"Ahhh...!!" A scream tore from my throat as I lunged forward, dropping to my knees. My hands trembled as I reached for my phone, barely able to breathe.

The screen was cracked beyond repair. Part of it flickered, a long jagged c***k running across it. Half of the screen had gone completely black.

I held it in my hands like something fragile, my vision blurring as hot tears gathered in my eyes.

My chest tightened. I could feel anger bubbling inside me, a rage so fierce I thought my skin might tear apart.

My teeth clenched. Hard. So hard, I swore I could taste blood from my gums.

"Ahhhhhh!!!!" I let out another scream, slamming my hand against the floor. My breathing was erratic, my body trembling with fury.

Who… who the hell was to blame?

My dad? For calling?

Michael? For his cruelty?

Or myself? For even getting involved in this nightmare in the first place?

The room felt like it was closing in on me.

Then….

"On your feet."

Michael’s voice sliced through my haze of rage and despair like a blade.

It was deep. Commanding. Unshaken.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my body stiffening as I tried to reign in my emotions. I knew better than to act out in front of him.

For a moment, silence hung between us. Thick. Suffocating.

I forced myself to my feet, my legs feeling like lead.

"Wipe your tears, child," Michael said, his voice disturbingly calm. "The journey has just begun."

I looked up at him, my vision still blurred with unshed tears. And for one fleeting second, I saw it.

His eyes flashed.

Not in the way people say when they get angry. Not in a figurative sense.

They literally flashed.

A flicker of something inhuman.

I froze. My stomach twisted painfully. My pulse thundered.

Was it a trick of the light? Is the sun reflecting off the glass?

Or was it something else?

And why… why the hell did he keep calling me child?

A fresh wave of rage surged inside me, overpowering my fear.

"What journey?" I snapped, my voice shaking with newfound determination. "I’m not doing s**t for you, beast."

Michael didn’t react. Didn’t blink.

Then, he laughed.

Slowly. Darkly.

A low chuckle at first, before morphing into a full-fledged devilish laugh that echoed through the room.

It was wrong.

Deep. Menacing. The kind of laughter that didn’t belong to a human.

My body stiffened.

"Do you have a choice?" Michael finally said, his smirk widening. "Hahahaha…"

The sound sent a wave of ice down my spine.

I could barely breathe.

"Have a seat," he ordered, still smirking. "Do you want anything to drink? To eat?" He scoffed. "I’m sure you don’t."

And then, he turned, walking away.

He disappeared into another room, shutting the door behind him.

I exhaled shakily, my hands still trembling.

"That was weird…" I muttered under my breath, staring blankly at the door.

My eyes slowly drifted around the room, and for the first time, I took in my surroundings.

A lion’s head was mounted on the wall, its eyes strangely like. Next to it was a bull’s head with one horn broken off.

A shiver ran down my spine.

"How did they even get this?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

I scanned the room again making sure I was alone before I took slow, cautious steps forward, walking towards the lion’s head. I paused right in front of it, and slowly stretched my hand to feel it

BANG!

The door slammed open.

"Hmph…!" A strangled sound escaped me as I jerked back, startled.

Michael stood there, staring at me.

His expression was unreadable.

For a brief moment, there was silence as I stared at Michael, my body trembling slightly

"Come."

His voice was uncomfortably calm. Too calm.

My eyes darted downward. His hand was behind his back.

My stomach churned. What was he hiding?

My throat dried up. I could barely swallow.

"What… what is that?" My voice barely made it past my lips.

Michael didn’t answer.

He just waited.

Fear slithered through me, cold and suffocating.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a split second, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"God… please help me," I whispered to myself

Then, with legs that felt heavy as lead, I took a step toward him.