Micah

There was an awkward silence as I stepped into the house with Mr Lyon, it wasn't something I wasn't used to, I just wished I didn't feel so damn nervous.

My gaze shifted around the large house I didn't visit too often. It was well furnished and enormous but felt so dark, cold and empty.

The strong and chocking scent of cologne was very prominent. The house was always arranged and neat, the way my family would clean up whenever we were expecting a visitor.

I pulled off my white gloves, rubbing my two palms together, the friction gave warmth and a cozy feeling.

"Why were you with him?" I heard a mutter behind me. I swallowed hard.

What did I expect? He wouldn't ask?

"I should be asking you, why didn't you travel anymore?"

I turned to face him, hugging myself to protect myself from this icy atmosphere.

He was silent, his eyes threw daggers at me, he eyes looked cold and he was pissed of. He bit his gum and clenched his fist.

"Pardon my intrusion but this is your brother s-"

He drove his fist into the wall, cutting me short. I was taken aback by his sudden action.

"Why do you always have to disobey me Micah?" He paused. "Bryson's bad news."

I scoffed, letting out a cold breath. "And you're not?"

He walked slowly towards me, his heels tapping on the marble tiles. I waited in anticipation for his next move.

He finally halted, his body inches away from mine, him towering over me.

He bent his back a little, coming down to my height. He stared deep into my eyes and I did my best to stare back into his dark emerald eyes.

His eyes were expressionless and his face polka so why did he look so damn intimidating.

My mind immediately flashed back to that Night Mr Lyon kissed me. What if he did it again? I bet my stupid ass I wouldn't be able to push him away.

The chances of him kissing me were low, he was so pissed with me. However, he was pissed with me that night as well.

How do I always keep finding myself in the house of the man that I hate so much.

My eyes wavered once or twice and my lips quivered due to the cold.

"Do whatever the Fuck you want." His hot breath fanned my cheeks. His eyes sized me before he finally walked away.

I turned my head aggressively to the direction he walked to and watch him walk up the staircase.

I hate him. He looked at me like I was nothing, to him I was nothing. He didn't care, he still doesn't care, he's evil, I hate him. I hate him.

So why do I want to be around him? Why do I want to be more than just a dum girl, trying to change his mind in his eyes? Why do I want to actually get along with him? Why do I always want to give him a hug and mess up his perfect hair? Why do I want to feel his lips against mine again? Why do I want to know more about him and laugh at his childhood pictures with him? Why do I want to hear a hearty laughter from him? Not the one done out of spite. Why?

...I hate me.

***

I twisted and turned on the sofa, trying to find a good position to sleep in. I'd been awake for hours and the snowstorm outside didn't make it any easier to fall asleep.

The snow flakes constantly tapped on the window before they finally melted. I sat up on the sofa with a big  yawn and a stretch. It was less cold now and my hair all over my face. I pushed it to place and spat out some strands.

"Can't fall asleep?" I heard a voice behind me, it was Mr Lyon.

I shook my head, stretching my hands some more.

"Me neither." He walked to the sofa, offering me a can of orange juice.

I didn't know he drank orange juice.

"Thank you sir." I smiled a little. Yes, this was surprising but there's a first time for everything...I guess.

"Please, Call me Kristopher." He smiled back with a nod.

What the hell!?

What's going on!?

Why the hell is he being nice!?

"Okay....Mr Kristopher."

He chuckled, brushing his knuckles on his nose lightly.

"So, why are you being so nice suddenly."

I took a sip of my orange juice which weirdly tasted like like strawberries. I redrew the can  from from my lips and stared at the labels. Come to think of it, I'd never heard of this brand before and I knew everything about drinks.

Kristopher's smile expanded as he reduced his height, sitting on the sofa as well.

"Because I'm not Kristopher, silly." He dived his fingers into his perfectly gelled hair, ruffling it.

"What?" I laughed nervously, shifting away from him. I hoped his statement was a joke but Mr Lyon never told jokes.

I should have noticed that it wasn't him. My Lyon would never give me a drink after we just had an argument, he was too much of proud dick.

It seemed like a Bryson thing to do.. weirdly.

"W-who are you then?" My heart beat increased as I held the sofa tightly, he slowly turned his head in my direction.

A liquid, mistaken for wax began to drop on the sofa. I stood in horror and disbelief as I watched Mr Lyon's face melt away revealing .... Bryson.

"Mabelle, why don't you recognize me?" He said in a high pitched voice as I screamed and began running.

"Bryson's bad news." My Lyon's voice echoed  again and again, causing an excruciating pain in my head.

Anywhere I turned, I saw Bryson approaching me. It felt like I was in a horror movie and I wasn't a fan of horror movies myself. I always thought they were fake and too predictable, always repeating the same theme. It was always a psychotic children eating clown, a doll possessed by a demon or a dead human, a nun possessed by a demon, a stalker hunting a group of teenage girls, a demon hunting a little child, two mentally deranged boys going on a killing spree for revenge on fun, a zombie apocalypse, a demon possessing a mum, a group of adults forced to play truth or dare, a group of teens spending the night in the woods until one goes on a killing spree, all crap!

But right now, I felt like I was in a horror movie myself.

When I got to the door I banged on it severally but it was locked, no knob, no key hole, nothing.

The pain in my head and the repetitive echoing, not to talk of Bryson who was coming at my from four different angles, it was all too overwhelming.

I screamed and screamed as I fell to my knees, banging my head, begging it to stop but it didn't.

***
I gasped, springing up from my lying position. My breath came in my pants as I clutched my chest.

Thank goodness, it was just a dream. The sitting room was just as cold as I remembered it to be but despite the cold, I was sweating profusely.

I reached out for my phone on the centre table. It was 1:27AM but I couldn't go back to sleep, not after that dream. It was puzzling and I'm still trying to figure out what it meant.

Luther
Hope you got home safely
                                           1:28AM

I sent a message to Luther. Still trying to figure out what that dream meant, I made my way to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

💮💮💮
Unlike Micah, I'm a huge fan of horrific movies, I dropped a few hints in this chapter, can you guys figure anyone out?