Rabbit Hole (Romantic-Suspense)

Chapter 30: Doubt

Chapter 30: Doubt

At the same site where Lennox has buried Mr. Chang under cement, there's a man all tied up on a chair, immobilized not only with the strap around him but also with unfathomable fear continuously striking him directly from the within to every inch of his body. Tired and trembling in fear, with a thudding headache, eyes closed against the dull pain. The back of his skull throbbed like a w***e's heart; he bit out a curse and moved his hand to inspect the damage – except that it didn't move. The violent hum of electricity streaking through the air assaulted his battered head, calling forth a grimace of agony. A steady dripping echoed all around him, but it seemed to come from a single source.

A runny tap. He thought, assuming through the dark as his vision gets blocked by the sack, the men have covered his face.

Remembering how he got himself in that f*cked up situation after he tried to kill Lennox. The man he was told to kill in exchange for money was the same man who proved to him that the pain wasn't worth the money he was offered. Getting screwed over in a one-sided fight, he thought Lennox would just leave him be after he had enough of him. But to his surprised, he saw how a person could turn into a complete demon when Lennox decided to break his legs and shoulders while smiling maniacally.

Immobilized, his screams for help didn't reach anyone soon after Lennox hit his head, making him lose his consciousness. And, waking up in the worst possible scenario, only to get tortured by men he didn't know, has led him to be lost in confusion. Who are they? Why are they doing this? Is this all because of the attempted murder I did?

Thoughts running wild, the only questions he was able to shout out of his lungs were these. However, no matter how he desperately tries to ask, the only responses he got were either violence or another question, asking him—whose order was it to kill Lennox?

Yet, no matter how he desperately tries to uncover the person behind, all he could say was—

"I don't know! I don't know!" for despite accepting the tasks, his greed couldn't be denied when all he cared about was the money the person offered him.

How long had he been out cold? His lips were parched, and hunger growled in his stomach. Although he couldn't see anything, he knows the sun has already set, for the cold of the night has started creeping. He cracked open his eyes to better perceive how deep in s**t he was. Blackness continued to engulf him. A tremor of panic vibrated in his core. He was blind, sightless, motionless, restrained. He was as good as dead, a lamb awaiting slaughter, poultry breathing its last lungful before the bloodied knife would steal it forever. That slight tremor increased in intensity until he physically shook in time with it.

He tried to wrench his arms free and felt narrow straps dig into his flesh. He cried out in pain and kept battering at the straps with his broken forearms. They sawed in deeper and drew blood, but he was too far gone to notice it. His every instinct forced him to fight these unseen enemies.

He snapped his head back, the impact dizzying him for a moment. He hit the metallic chair's backrest again and again with the back of his head, pounding away at his restraints. He yelled out, a shout mingled with fury and panic. The stuffy air invaded his mouth, causing him to gag. How hadn't he noticed before? The metallic scent of blood mixed with the stench of excretion, like fingers of decay forcing their way down his throat and lodging in his heart.

His strength was beginning to ebb; his poundings came at longer intervals; his feet beat the painstakingly slow rhythm of a burial march. He drew in ragged breath after another, inviting the foul fingers back down his throat again and again – then, a squeak from rusty hinges; someone was coming in – or going out, he realized. They were leaving him there to die of hunger and thirst.

The distinct sound of swishing cloth reached his ears. It was coming closer. The closer it gets, the harder his heart pounds. Closer, closer, and then past him, the faint footsteps receding into the other direction.

He listened for an excruciating moment. They weren't coming back. They had left him to rot, to die in the darkness. They had left him hanging over the open maw of Satan, suspended from chains. His tortured throat let out a pathetic cry as he attacked his bonds with the remainder of his strength.

He thrust forward with every muscle he had, gritting his teeth when the straps tightened around his form, trying to overcome his captivity. He could feel the joining groan in strain and he pushed harder. Hope. It existed. Just a little more... A few inches. One of the joins popped out of its socket, cleanly as a twisted arm. He clenched his teeth harder. A few more and he'd be free.

Or so, he thought.

"Hey, it seems you're awake." Someone said in front of him, voice brimming with excitement.

A set of dragging footsteps echoed into his struggles. Stone cold, as he recognizes the voice he just heard.

Terror washed over him, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck. The footsteps had stopped. He heard soft breathing. Something nudged his hip painfully, a questioning prod from the shadows; he shirked away from the sadistic touch the best he could.

"Hmm, oh? Quite a nice reaction you have there. Say? Why don't we wrap this up already? Hmm?" This voice was crisp and cool, all warmth drained by lack of sympathy. He wasn't sure if the speaker could even be human.

"Hmm, hey, he isn't saying anything." The voice said, "It can't be helped then, shock him up." Continuing, snapping his fingers as if sending signals to some people around.

The implications of this request hadn't the time to register in his mind before a hard fist wrenched the rough sack from his head, ripping out some of his hair in the process. Revealing the most recent face he knows, Lennox. Flashing a soft smile across his face, contradicting the way he sounds, the man on the chair then spit blood on his face.

But shortly after that, he cried out as high prickling voltage wormed its way through his body, eyes, and into his brain, eating away at his nerves, biting them raw. Blistering scabs were ripped open inside his head as the parasitic rays of light feasted upon his flesh, flaying him bloody from the inside. Through the haze of agony, he heard the two voices conferring above his prone form.

"Ugliest mother*cker I've seen in a while", Lennox said, piercing his eyes through the man screaming in pain. Eyes full of satisfaction, he wipes off the blood on his face.

"So? This trash says he doesn't know who ordered him?" Lennox asked, asking the man in charge, George in a suit. George steps forward and handed a folder to him, saying,

"Yes, sir, but recently we have gained information that this man is a wanted criminal. A rapist and a murder to be exact." He said, not feeling bad about being in charge of the man's torture.

Lennox, checking countless files of the person's victims inside the folder, revealing most of his victims as children. Lennox raises a smirk and looks nonchalantly at the person in the chair getting electrocuted.

"Hmm, looks like it. His blade skill wasn't good but wasn't sloppy either. Too bad, he's not what I thought he'd be." Lennox said, handing back the folder to George. Disappointedly sighing, figuring it out that the person he has invested time on torturing couldn't be anyone related to Alice's brother.

Then, who the f*ck has the nerve to kill me? Lennox thought, still pondering on who would dare do this.

"Then, what are we going to do—"

"Kill him." Lennox plainly said.

"Yes, sir," George said, turning up the voltage. The man then started getting more contorted in spasms of agony. He twists and writhes in time with the physical pangs of his body. In the end, he gasped and groaned, eyes rolled back into his head. He tried to close his eyes, but someone was keeping them open. Froth danced on his lips, and his whole form shivered in faint spasms, all the fight gone from him. Sweet oblivion slowly accepted him into its grim grasp; his body went limp until he loses a life.

"Oh, hey. Sasha's dead. That man could be the one who did it, but I want to run an investigation to be sure. Check if you can find that man's fingerprints in the car." Lennox said.

"Yes, sir," George said, despite the shock and pain he's feeling along with the death of his friend, Sasha.

Alice's POV

After getting back from the hospital and hearing from architect Santos, who Lennox had tasked to attend in their place, informed them that the firm, ASpex got the project successfully. Their firm, because of that, Alice has become more stressed on what's his brother's real intention. Thinking about the chase that happened on their way there and his company's decision to choose their firm as contractors to their project, things have become more complicated and blurry as everything seems not to connect.

Scribbling in her notebook in her room, she wrote down the possible intention of the chase. Still, all the possibilities don't point to her brother, Clyde as the perpetrator, because if he was, then the chance of them getting the project was lower than zero. Scratching her head as she thinks that there are still some details missing, frustrated, she tore the paper. Suddenly, the note that Henry left flashes through his mind.

Being reminded of Dove, Alice stood up, searching for the pants she used earlier. But, even if she searches all the pockets it has, the note isn't there.

"Damn it, where is it?" Alice said, irritatingly searching. Groaning, she crouches and digs her dirty laundry, but there aren't any traces of the note.

Surrendering, she puts everything back in.

"Tsk. Anyway, that note hasn't had any clues to contact him." Alice hissed, thinking hasn't made any more progress since she decided to take Lennox closer to her. Mind traveling within tangled thoughts, she then got stuck in the most oblivious questions she had buried within.

"In the first place…why is he so obsessed with me? What pushed him to like and stalk me for years…how far has he known me? How much that psycho does know about me?" She uttered, speaking out her thoughts, staring blankly at her laptop's screen. Showing Dove's remaining poem, with several sticky papers and notes, stamped and pinned on the board behind her computer. Trying her hard to decipher the message dove had written.

"Tsk, I'm far too late with incomplete poems to decipher, f*ck. That psycho sure's making everyone work." Alice uttered, rereading the highlights she wrote on each poem until her eyes stopped on the 'hole.'

Mirror…

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Mirror, mirror makes the wall.

Mirror, mirror through the hole,

Mirror, mirror makes the hole.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

I'm telling you my secrets

Once and for all

Let your eyes illuminate

I really want you to see

the other side of me

Not my appearance

Somewhere behind the brilliance

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Be the eyes through the wall.

Mirror, mirror through the hole—

"Expose his foul soul…" Alice uttered, reading the last line of the poem. Looking down, framing and decoding what the poem is all about, she moves and turns her swivel chair around and paused when her eyes caught the largest mirror in the room.

Staring blankly at it, another thought came to mind. Mae, aunt, where are you? Feeling torn, Alice winces, massaging her temples, letting out a groan of frustration.

"Ugh, this is driving me insane—damn it, what will I think first?!" She said, pressing her hands on her head. Trying to get a hold of the stress she's oozing.

"Mae, aunt, Clyde, Lennox, and that f*cker Dove." She said, gritting her teeth.

Why do I have to be in this complicated situation?! What does that dove want me to do? Get away from Lennox? How? Ugh, he could have just told me directly! I swear, the next time I see him, I'm going to beat the crap out of him!

Screaming inside, she stood up from her seat and headed her way into her kitchen. Head aching from stress, she grabs a bottle of water and drinks it straight.

Finishing it up, she closes her eyes and calmly squeezes them in her lids. Heaving a heavy sigh that seems to be her normal breathing now, she opens her eyes wide and then—

"F*CK YOU ALL—"In the middle of cussing Lennox, dove, and Clyde in the air, the causes of her headache, her doorbell rings, cutting off her outrage.

Having enough for the day, she glances at her phone's clock.

"Now, what?" She hissed, seeing that it's already late for a visitor. But having the gist of who is outside, she looks at her intercom's screen. There she saw the person in her mind.

"Way to crash my peaceful night." She said, pressing the button.

"What?" Alice angrily asked. Then a broad grin flashes across his visitor's face.

"I miss you—"

"Get away, Lennox. I'm calling the security this time." Alice said, holding in her anger in a wish not to give Lennox the satisfaction of seeing her pissed and gritting her teeth in, clenching her fist.

It's already past 3 o'clock—damn it, he's always way too early to hit my nerve.

Then, Lennox's grin grew wider as his assertive voice calls in.

"Eh? But I bet you won't do it." Because of this provocation, Alice glares at him.

"Huh? You sure want to test me right now?" She said sarcasm in full sarcasm, ready to place a bet.

"Yep," Lennox said, smiling cheerfully.

"You sound confident, and I don't like it, so I'm calling the security," Alice said, ready to dial security's phone. But when she's about to call them, what she heard next caught her attention.

"Even if I know where Mae is?" With that, Alice put down the security line and looked at Lennox's face.

"You what?" She asked, uncertain of the hope she's feeling, as doubt clouded her mind towards him. Alice stood there, examining Lennox's expression.

Seeing the face, which has already deceive her multiple times, she couldn't help but think more than twist to trust the man. However, after thinking for a minute or so, Alice finally hit the conclusion.

To begin with, the decision that it was her choice to cling and knock onto this man's sleeves, the man she doubts now, is the same man she needs.

"Proof?"

With that, Lennox lifted his phone on the intercom's camera. He was showing Alice a picture taken from her aunt's house in the living area.

"What's that, Lennox? I know my aunt's house was a mess. Is that all you've got? Ugh, really." Alice said, seeing the picture.

"Want me to explain what's this russian's table setting's doing on their coffee table instead of their dining?" Lennox said, making Alice realize the table setting in the midst of a mess on the coffee table.

Speechless about how cryptic the setting is, she couldn't say anything and pressed her lips together.

"And these seven inches shoe footprints on the carpet's dust? Hmm?" Lennox added, swiping right o the next picture he has on his phone.

Mouth parted, Alice couldn't believe how the footprints slipped through her that time. She could have accepted the coffee table getting away from her eyes but not the footprints. And so, intrigued, she felt the small suffocation of realization that more than doubt, she should feel grateful for Lennox.

Damn it. Alice curses, not accepting the hard reality that she's stuck without him.

I'm… damn, moving forward with my stalker.

She couldn't swallow the truth. She puts her hands on the doorknob. Damn, in the first place, have I—as myself progress? When will I learn to walk by myself? Have I even grow and learn to subdue him? f*ck. no.

Knowing the undeniable truth, in the end, she couldn't do anything but let him in.

"Get…get in," Alice said, twisting it in, letting Lennox in her suite.

"That's more like it", Lennox said, passing through her entrance door, smiling gently at her furious and full of contempt eyes looking at him.

Of course, I can't subdue him under my control—because, in the first place, this devil isn't tamable.