Patient B-2

Chapter Thirteen: Avalyn

 Fuck, why did I do that?

 I barely made it out on time, almost getting caught when Wrath decided to swing the door open. I managed to make it to the other side of the mansion, racing down a hallway with my senses on high alert as I search for Idalia. She hasn't answered me within the last ten minutes, going completely mute on the other side of the earpiece, filling me with even more panic. I'm losing my composure.

 With Wrath's presence looming over me, I feel the weight of the situation pressing down, suffocating my resolve. The chaos surrounding me becomes overwhelming, and I realize I can't delve as deeply into my search as I had hoped. It's frustrating how his mere presence continues to cloud my thoughts, disrupting my focus and clarity. I know it's time to leave, to escape this suffocating atmosphere before it consumes me entirely.

 Idalia may not be pleased, but she'll comprehend the necessity of prioritizing safety over convenience. It's evident that Wrath's arrival isn't aimed at me; rather, his focus lies squarely on her. Her presence poses a significant risk, one we cannot afford to ignore. We'll have to retreat for now, regrouping to strategize another approach for attending these events without jeopardizing our anonymity or encountering my past. It's a frustrating setback, but one that underscores the importance of caution in our endeavors.

 Suddenly, a hand seizes me by the wrist, yanking me backward with unexpected force. Before I can even register what's happening, I collide with someone's chest, instinctively reaching out to steady myself against the figure before me. My mind reels as I realize I've been unfocused, my lack of attention to my surroundings a stark reminder of why I shouldn't be here in the first place.

 "Excuse my friend, she's had too much to drink," a soft feminine voice sounds from behind me.

 Idalia.

 I turn my head, glancing at her briefly before shifting my gaze back to the imposing man in front of me. With my eyes still finding his chest, I quickly take a step back to assert my personal space. Before me stands an older man, wrinkled with age and wearing a deep scowl that seems to be permanently carved onto his face. His beady black eyes bore into me with malice as he speaks. "You almost ran right into me, little girl," he sneers, his tone dripping with disdain.

 His raspy voice, tinged with the telltale signs of years spent inhaling smoke, adds to the ominous aura enveloping him. Dressed in an impeccable, undoubtedly expensive suit, he exudes an air of belonging among these affluent circles. The gleam of his golden watch serves as further evidence of his wealth and status. Every inch of him exudes luxury and importance. And the icy glare he fixes upon me tells me that he doesn't take kindly to being carelessly bumped into.

 It's then that I notice a young woman standing beside the older man, though her presence seems more like an unwilling companion. Her eyes are vacant, her body slumped against him as if seeking support. His arm wraps around her possessively, his grip tightly harsh and almost painful as his fingers dig into her hip. I meet her gaze, but it's as if she's looking through me, her awareness barely registering my presence. It dawns on me that she's not human; she's the same woman I saw in the other room, the one subjected to cruel treatment as people around her jeered and laughed while her fangs were ripped from her mouth repeatedly.

 My eyes are drawn to the evidence of blood still lingering, though it's clear someone attempted to hastily wipe it away, albeit with little care. Following the trail downward, I take in the sight of the dress draped over her body. It seems as though it was thrown on in a hurry, barely covering anything, and now bunched up around her upper thighs. I can't help the expression that takes over my face when I notice the blood that trails down her legs.

 Idalia's grip tightens on my wrist, urging me to follow her as she attempts to lead us away, aiming to walk past the menacing man. But it's clear to me what his intentions are, what he's already done to this woman. "Let her go," I say, standing unmoving as I gaze into his evil eyes.