Patient B-2

Chapter Fifteen: Idalia

Leaving Avalyn in the company of the man who had shattered my world sent sharp pangs through my chest, an unexpected ache that echoed the raw grief of losing Aren all those years ago. Yet, as wrenching as it was, nothing could compare to the abyss of agony his absence had carved in my soul.

I switched off my earpiece for barely ten minutes, but in that short span, Avalyn spiraled into a state of panic. I rendezvoused with my insider, Jessie, and muted the piece to spare her from overhearing our quickie. It was a gesture of gratitude for his role in locating the warehouse. I never anticipated Avalyn to be incapable of maintaining her composure for such a brief period. I've instilled better judgment in her, and her reaction disappoints me deeply. She should have remained composed, but she didn't. That's why she found herself in the situation she did. Yet, despite my frustration, a gnawing sensation persists in my chest.

Upon returning to our once-shared apartment, I found myself clutching at my chest, despising the persistent ache that nestled in the cavity where my heart once beat, its weight sinking into the depths of my stomach like an unwelcome pit. I was consumed by a turmoil of emotions, a sensation foreign to me, Idalia Wellington, who prided myself on composure.

This is the peril of allowing others entry into your world- of granting them proximity close enough to truly understand you. I should have clung to the facade of being the most formidable and intimidating presence around, but Avalyn's blend of sweetness and resilience had me captivated in that platonic soulmate connection. I genuinely cared for her. She infused my mornings with a newfound sense of joy, and collaborating with her injected anticipation into my days. Together, we transcended the monotony of existence, making life vibrant and thrilling. Our partnership was seamless, yet in a moment of weakness, I left her behind.

It's not the absence of hesitation in leaving her behind that catches me off guard, for truth be told, I would repeat the action without a second thought. Rather, it's the unfamiliar twinge of guilt that takes me by surprise. Throughout my life, I've callously manipulated countless individuals, guiding them to their fate and then abandoning them. Yet never before have I experienced this sensation of remorse. Perhaps in those instances, my actions were more calculated, driven by external forces. This time, however, I acted of my own volition, and it weighs heavily on me. Perhaps it's also the knowledge of the company she's now keeping that unsettles me, adding another layer to the tumult within.

He's a vile creature, his mind warped and corrupted. He's the very source of the darkness that stains my soul- the catalyst for the malevolence that festers within me. The realization that Avalyn is now trapped in his clutches is sending my brain into overdrive.

I draw in a deep breath, fingers instinctively twisting and tugging at my hair, a nervous tic I've long indulged. With one last weighted exhale, a resolve solidifies within me. I refuse to stand idly by as another soul is ensnared by that man's depravity. Aren, having been absent for over two centuries, has likely endured unimaginable horrors, the mere thought of which I dare not entertain. My prolonged search for him stands as a testament to my failure, but I refuse to allow history to repeat itself with Avalyn.

I regard her with a twisted semblance of maternal instinct, akin to how a deeply flawed, monstrous mother might regard her child. Despite her pure-hearted nature, she harbors a fascination with the shadows, much like my own. I can't help but think of her in a sickeningly possessive light. She's my friend; she's become my charge, my responsibility. No one has the right to strip her away from me. If anyone is to inflict harm upon her, it should be me, not him.

With a newfound resolve coursing through me, I hastily wipe away any traces of vulnerability from my eyes, smoothing down my dress with purpose as I reach for her purse. Pausing briefly in my room, I snatch up the solitary photograph of myself, knowing I'll need it to convince the others, before turning to the front door.