PURE | 18+

𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

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Lethological

[Leth - oh - lo - gic -ah] Classic Greek

(n.)When you can't
think of the word
for something

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-𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐚

𝐓hunder has always scared the living daylights out of me , It's like my skin starts trembling and I can't help but feel overwhelmed. I think it's because I've never been alone during a storm .

or maybe it's because my brother used to scare me even more with his stories about this Thundermonster that wakes up whenever there's a storm.

It's no wonder I hate thunderstorms. It's just too much to handle.

It would have been great if Levi have stayed with me and waited till the storm passed But he was concerned about Sergio's arrival and the potential trouble it could cause me.

So, after lunch, Levi made the decision to drop me off and then left. But I don't blame him , Sergio is a rough and intimidating guy.

mustering up the courage to peek my head out of my cozy blanket . Just as I do, the sky let out another monstrous roar , dramatically I roll back and let out the loudest scream ever , forgetting that I'm not lying on my bed but I'm on a couch .

*Thud*

I think I rolled off a bit too much , because my face has now collided with the carpet in our spacious living room

As I groaned and struggled to get up from the floor, I make the decision to retreat to the safety of my room. The couch just isn't cutting it anymore. But as I make my way towards the stairs, a series of rough bangs echoes through the house, coming from the front door.

My heart skipped a beat. Could it be the thundermonster from my brother's stories? my imagination runs wild. With cautious steps, I tiptoe closer to the door, my eyes fixated on the shadowy figure of a tall, muscular build behind the window adjacent to the massive door.

It felt like a scene straight out of a suspenseful movie I must admit I might have been watching a bit too many scary movies lately.

"The thundermonster does not exist, the thundermonster is not real-"

"Elena!" a voice says ,I can't help but question. How did it know my name?

As I cautiously approach the door, my hands tremble slightly with a mix of fear. Thoughts raced through my mind, making me wonder if I was losing my sanity.

"Elena, open the door," the voice calls out again, sounding vaguely familiar. The heavy rain pouring outside masks the true identity of the person behind the voice.

With a trembling voice, I mustered the courage to respond, "Hello?" I leaned closer to the door, pressing my ear against it, desperate to catch any clues about who was standing on the other side. The last thing I wanted was to let a stranger into my home.

"Bambi? Are you there? Open the door," a voice echoing through the hallway. My heart skipped a beat as I instantly recognized his voice. Mr. Costa, the only person who affectionately refers to me as Bambi.

with my trembling hands . I swung the door open , I was met with the sight of a dripping wet Mr. Costa, rainwater cascading off his body and onto the floor.