Chapter 5: Where screams are heard
1032 Words
The car moved through a road swallowed by silence.
No streetlights.
No pedestrians.
No sign of life.
Anyone unfamiliar with the area might mistake it for an abandoned stretch of land, but those who knew better understood the truth—this road was infamous. Crimes thrived here, from petty theft to bloodshed so frequent it had become routine. The kind of place where screams vanished before they could echo.
The vehicle slowed and came to a stop in front of a small, unimpressive house.
It looked harmless.
That was the deception.
Those who entered rarely left—and when they did, they were never the same. Their minds shattered, their sanity reduced to nothing but empty shells wandering back into the world.
The guards exited first, scanning the surroundings before opening the doors.
Inside, the air was thick and suffocating.
The building’s interior was pitch-black, forcing the guards to switch on their flashlights. Narrow corridors stretched ahead, walls stained with old marks that no amount of cleaning could erase. They walked in silence until they reached a room—not large, not small—just enough to hold six people comfortably.
That was where the sound came from.
“Please… I’m sorry,” a broken voice begged, pain thick in every syllable. “I won’t do it again… I swear.”
Dylan Donovan stepped into the room, his presence alone shifting the air.
“I thought I made myself clear,” he said calmly. “No touching of the prey.”
The scene before him was brutal.
Daniel was strapped to a metal chair, chains wrapped tightly around his limbs. Blood dripped steadily onto the concrete floor, pooling beneath him. His face was swollen, his eyes barely able to stay open.
“I didn’t touch him,” Mark said casually, stepping forward. He was one of Dylan’s closest associates—charismatic, intelligent, and far darker than he appeared. “I only played with him psychologically.”
Dylan didn’t spare him a glance.
He walked toward Daniel slowly, stopping just inches away. Daniel lifted his head weakly, terror flooding his eyes when they met Dylan’s.
“I remember the first day you got this job,” Dylan said quietly. “I made sure you understood every rule—inside and out.”
He leaned closer.
“And yet you disappointed me.”
Daniel’s lips trembled. “P-please—”
“Disappointment has consequences,” Dylan interrupted coldly. “And now… you’ll pay.”
Straightening, Dylan turned away.
“Deal with him,” he said.
No anger. No emotion.
Just finality.
Without another word, Dylan walked out of the house, leaving Daniel’s fate sealed behind him.
Sofia’s Apartment
Sofia Green — POV
I still couldn’t believe it.
After years—years—of being stuck in the same position, enduring humiliation and stolen credit, it had finally happened.
I had been promoted.
Stepping into the apartment I shared with my best friend, relief washed over me. Home always felt safe—warm, familiar, quiet.
“Hey, Sofi!”
The voice belonged to Haven—my best friend, my only real friend. She was sitting on the couch, legs curled beneath her, phone in hand.
“How was the party?” she asked with a smile. “Or should I say… gathering?”
I chuckled softly, dropping my bag. “It was good. There was a small issue, but it got resolved before anything serious happened.”
“That’s good,” she said, then hesitated. “Daniel didn’t bother you, did he?”
A grin spread across my face before I could stop it.
“No,” I said brightly. “In fact—he got fired.”
Haven blinked. “What?”
“And I got promoted.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow. That’s amazing!”
Then something shifted.
“There’s no way Daniel would get fired that easily,” she said slowly. “Not unless someone with serious authority stepped in.”
I laughed softly.
She stared at me.
“Don’t tell me…” Her lips curved into a knowing smile.
I nodded, grinning like a mischievous child.
“Dylan Donovan?” she asked.
“Bingo.”
Haven shrieked, jumping off the couch like an excited schoolgirl—despite very much not being one.
“Oh my God! You talked to Dylan Donovan?” she squealed, already drifting into fantasy. I rolled my eyes fondly. Mr. Donovan had been her celebrity crush for years.
“And the best part?” I added. “I’ve been promoted to his personal assistant. I start next week.”
My excitement was genuine.
Haven’s… wasn’t.
For a split second, her expression faltered—something dark flickering across her face. Disappointment? Anger? Sadness? I couldn’t tell. It vanished almost immediately.
“Haven?” I asked gently. “Is something wrong?”
She smiled quickly. “No. Nothing at all. Just… thinking.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Well, if anything’s bothering you, you know you can always tell me,” I said, patting her back reassuringly.
“I know,” she replied softly.
I headed to my room, but a strange feeling followed me—unease curling in my chest. I shook it off. I’d had a long day. I was probably just overthinking.
Later That Night
Exhaustion finally caught up to me, and I lay down to rest.
Minutes later, a soft knock came at my door.
“Sofi?”
“Yes?”
Haven stepped inside, fingers fidgeting nervously.
“Do you… know where you’ll be working now?” she asked carefully.
I frowned. “Not really. He said his driver would pick me up, so the location’s still unknown.”
Her face darkened briefly before she masked it.
“Oh,” she said lightly. “Okay.”
Something felt off—but when I looked again, she seemed fine.
I must be imagining it, I told myself.
After all, why would my best friend be troubled by my promotion?
CALIFORNIA
Dylan Donovan stood by the window of his penthouse, city lights glowing beneath him.
Snow Green.
The name echoed again.
And somewhere, far below, forces were already moving—quietly, patiently—toward her.
- Writer
