Beguile

6 The Innocent

The boy who stood in the doorway was familiar.

He had blonde hair that fell messily around his face, green eyes that held a mix of concern and fear, and a large scar that ran across his lips, giving him a rugged appearance.

Despite his lean and tall frame, he trembled like a frightened kitten.

"Was I too late?" he asked, his voice quivering as he took in the scene.

I struggled to find my voice. "I—I'm okay," I managed to say, though my words were barely a whisper.

There was worry etched deeply in his eyes, and I thought that was a strange comfort amidst the chaos.

But then again, I couldn't let myself relax. After all, the host was clear. We were all criminals, and the deep scar on his lip told a story of its own.

The boy noticed my gaze lingering on his scar and immediately tried to cover it with his hand.

"It's ugly, isn't it?" he said, his voice tinged with self-consciousness. "My mask got stripped away during the chaos."

I couldn't answer, fear and uncertainty gnawing at me. He walked over to me slowly, his head down, carefully avoiding any stains on the floor as if they could kill him.

"Did he touch you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as he moved behind me to untie the knot on my hands.

His fingers worked deftly on the knots, and I felt the tension in my wrists begin to ease.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, concern lacing his words as he glanced at my face.

I shook my head, the tears I had been holding back finally spilling over. I tried so hard to stifle the sound from coming out, biting my lip to keep quiet.

He ripped the curtains from behind me and laid them down.. He kneeled to work on the ties on my ankles, silent and focused while I cried.

When he finished untying the knots, his eyes lingered on the bruises before glancing back at me.

"You can kick me if you want," he said softly.

I stared at him, my voice shaky."Why would I do that?"

He looked away, his expression unreadable. "Sometimes it helps"

I was weirded out by his suggestion, but also touched by his strange comfort. "No," I said, wiping my tears. "I just want to get out of here."

He tilted his head, still kneeling there, his eyes not cutting from me. "You won't hurt yourself, right?"

I didn't understand what he was saying, so I just stared at him in confusion.

He continued, "Bruises heal, but a cut will scar." He put a hand over his mouth, mimicking a mask, and that's when I realized that the boy in front of me was Rie.

Just then, a notification buzzed on my band. Revealing him: Rie Harada - Locked.

Rie lightly held my wrist as we walked through the woods, his touch so gentle that I knew I could easily break free and run if I wanted to.

I remembered that the band would notify us of crimes either when the person was dead or attacking.

But it was strange.

Might be because hes not attacking that theyre locked?

Whatever, because he had been nothing but gentle, even humming softly to drown out the unsettling sounds of the night—crawling insects and rustling leaves.