Chapter 4 – The countdown 2
1068 Words
The sound of the door opening drew my attention. Ken walked in together with Greg.
“The girls will start coming from tonight. We can’t waste any more time," Greg said, and he meant it.
That night, the first girl arrived.
She looked fresh-faced. Her soft features held an innocent charm, the kind that could make any man believe she had never known the weight of the world.
I grinned through my pain; Greg sure was going to make it epic.
“A package for Mr. Andrew.” Her voice sounded tiny and pure, yet seductive.
The box was rectangular and straight; whatever was inside must be in a bottle.
Tim collected the package and shook it slightly, then he understood.
“It must be Forgotten Pleasure,” I thought. Greg was in charge of getting the substance.
She took that opportunity to brush her hands against Tim, but he simply flashed her a smile and left.
Obviously, she had mistaken Tim for her client.
She was asked to wait in the living room while I watched from the monitor. I had to know who I was sleeping with in case that guy tried anything funny; you could never be sure with Greg.
She was offered a glass of water. Its clear surface hid the quiet swirl of Forgotten Pleasure.
She took the glass without hesitation, her lips barely brushing the rim before she drank. I wondered if she was truly nervous or simply thirsty.
The liquid must have been tasteless since she drank the whole thing. Almost immediately, a subtle haze began to cloud her gaze. Her smile softened, her shoulders loosened, and she looked at Tim as if they had known each other for years.
Then she was led to my room.
The room was dim, lit only by the warm flicker of a single lamp. She sat on the edge of the bed, her dress brushing against her knees, waiting for me to speak.
The toxin soon took over my senses, and I dragged her close. Within seconds, every piece of clothing was shredded from her body, along with mine. It looked like she wanted to say something, but I didn't have the patience. My body was tearing at me like a rogue beast.
She was taken away before she awoke.
I stood by the window, watching the sunrise, a heaviness settling in my chest. There was no satisfaction, only the quiet, suffocating truth that this was just the beginning.
And the truth was always bitter.
The second girl was quite different from the first.
She arrived just before midnight. Taller than the first, with sharp cheekbones and eyes that seemed to measure everything in the room before settling on Tim. Her beauty wasn’t soft; it was the kind that warned you not to get too close.
Once again, Greg was having fun with this.
She didn’t smile when offered the glass of water laced with “Forgotten Pleasure.” Instead, she studied it, swirling the liquid as if she could hear its secrets. Eventually, she drank. Slowly. Purposefully.
At first, nothing seemed different. She was calm and collected, her gaze locked on Tim with a focus that made the air heavy. But then, the haze took hold, subtle at first, then sudden. Her lips curved into a smile that wasn’t there before. Her eyes lost their sharpness, replaced by something soft.
Then, just like the first, she was brought into the room, and the norms followed.
Once inside the estate, they are drugged to relax, aware of what’s coming. Still heavily under the effects of the venom, I'll lose control.
The same thing happened on the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth days.
Greg kept changing their personalities like he was teasing me. Once, I called to ask why he was doing that, and he said he didn't want me to get bored.
I couldn't refute him.
If the girls were indeed alike, it would only add to my frustration.
Somehow, I felt like with every passing day, my humanity was being shredded off.
Soon, the seventh day passed.
This time, I could feel it; the toxin was completely gone. I was finally free. I turned to look at the lady from yesterday.
She was nothing like the others. No painted lips, no glittering dress, no perfume thick enough to choke the air. Just a plain white blouse, dark jeans, and a face you could forget in a crowd.
Where did Greg get this one?
Just like the others, she was carried away.
"Take this one to the hospital. I was rougher last night," I said.
"Yes, sir," Tim answered. "Should I go for breakfast?"
"Yes. Then call Greg and Ken."
It was time to catch that very brave human who dared to try such a thing with me.
While waiting for breakfast, my mind went back to the events of yesterday.
***
“What’s the time, Tim?” I had asked.
“It’s 9 p.m., sir,” he answered.
It was already 9 p.m., yet the last girl was nowhere to be found, and the poison was already acting up. Ken had said that its effect would be doubled on the last day.
"Put a call through to Greg," I ordered Tim.
"Yes, sir," he answered.
I went into my room, locked myself in, and threw the keys somewhere.
It felt like my skin no longer belonged to me, as though something was peeling it away, layer by layer, while an army of ants marched and chewed through my insides.
The pain wasn’t just physical; it whispered, it taunted, it made me question if the torment was real or if my mind had finally betrayed me.
My gaze landed on the fruit knife I had used earlier. A wild impulse urged me to cut until the crawling stopped.
My fingers reached toward the handle, yet a faint thread of sanity reminded me that if I gave in, I wouldn’t just lose the ants. I’d lose
my life.
So I held onto my bed lamp instead, on my knees.
Just when I thought I would lose it, my assistant, Tim, came in with a lady in his arms.
I was grateful he had a key of his own, because I had no idea where I had dropped mine.
He laid her on the bed and left immediately.
Like a starved rouge, I pounced on her.
- Writer
