Alessandro 16+ / Book 2

Chapter 8: Lead

Adrienne's POV

My body twists and turns, unable to keep myself still as the suffering eats me alive, whole, and without mercy.

I have no idea where worms came from, but I can feel their unsettling movements crawling all over me, and I am unable to do anything other than helplessly cry out, attempting to fend them off with my hands.

My eyes remain shut, trapped between the invasion of the worms and the persistent pull of sleep.

They are not real. They are not real. I try reassuring myself, knowing even though the worms feel so real on my body and make me fearful, they are not real.

I am just going crazy...

My eyes snap open abruptly, and I'm greeted by a swarm of worms inching toward me. Startled, I sit up swiftly, only to unexpectedly encounter something on the ground, prompting a gasp to escape my lips at the sight.

A body.

His body.

Dominic body lays before me, and it is covered with worms that eat his dead flesh. The sight causes me to feel puckish, unable to control myself, as a mouth full of vomit erupts from my throat.

It was white and obnoxious as any other puke, but what made me even more scared was the heaps of worms that came with it.

My eyes widen in horror, panic setting in as chilling cries escape me.

Abruptly, a peculiar sensation on my stomach prompts me to lift my shirt with trembling hands, revealing my abdomen infested with writhing worms, flesh eaten away, bleeding, and dead tissue cascading out.

Oh my God!

A blood-curdling scream leaves my lips as I spring from the ground with aghast hysteria, gasping loudly with panic, only this time I wasn't sleeping anymore.

And my baby was safe.

Earlier

"You resemble me," his weakened voice admits, lacking the strength my papa once had, the illness diminishing his vigor and sanity. "Same eyes, my few freckles. Gosh, you used to be my favorite," he chuckles weakly, recalling a memory. "Always so beautiful. When you were a baby, everyone would gush over you at parties, praising your perfection. Even with my hair, why don't you have it anymore?"

My tired eyes blink wearily at him, my head leaning weakly against the wall.

My dry lips crack as I speak, my voice raw and hoarse. "I didn't want to look like you anymore," I mumble, and he catches every word.

"Ah, I see." He nods. "Tell me, how was life when I was gone? I've spoken about so much, but not that. Fill me in. Did your mother change, or did she treat you like the shame you are?"

"Fuck. You," I growl through gritted teeth, watching as he laughs.

"Okay. Okay, my brave angel-"

The mention of the name sends a chill through my veins; it doesn't sound right from his lips. Not anymore.

"Don't call me that!" I attempt to yell, but a headache and pain in my body make me wince.

His dark, sick eyes pierce through me, lips quivering as he scratches his beard before continuing. "Your brother, Dominic-"

"No!" I exclaim, unwilling to be tormented about my dead brother.

Why is he doing this to me?

He rises swiftly, fury coursing through him as he points accusingly. "Remember him! Keep fucking remembering him!" He hisses relentlessly, his finger trembling and his left eye twitching.