Onto That Dangerous World

CHAPTER 4

WARNING: This story contains mature themes and is intended for mature readers.

This chapter contains graphic violence and may offend some people. Please do not read if this offends you.

ISABELLA STANLEY.

Eyes, piercing green eyes looked down on me. They were beautiful, yet cold as ice.

I tried to move back and away from him, but the effect of whatever I had been given still wore heavy on me. My mind was still foggy, my muscles were refusing to move.

For a moment, I wondered if this had all been a bad dream. Any moment now I expected to wake up in my room, in my home.

But the cold I felt, that could not be dream. Here, wherever here was, felt as ice cold as the eyes looking down on me.

The pain was real, the pain was not a dream.

The cold eyed monster's fingers threaded through my hair, his fingernails scraping against my scalp.

I whimpered at the sudden and harsh contact, which seemed to make him happy.

I was too weak, too cowardly to fight back as he pulled on my hair, bringing our faces impossibly close together.

"Hello, Isabella," he said, addressing me by name. How could that be? How did this monster know my name?

His face held no familiarity to me, yet he knew me.

"Oh little lamb," he said, sucking on his bottom lip. "You are very beautiful Isabella. It's almost a shame." He released his vise grip on my hair. My hand went up to the spot where he had hurt me.

Whatever I had been given, was starting to wear off, the fog was lifting and I could see him with clear eyes. He was tall and dressed in a black suit with a warm coat on top. His shoes were impeccable, polished to perfection. He had a defined jaw line with the hint of stubble. He stood with his back to me, speaking with someone else, we were not alone here.

On my right, another man sat on a metal chair. He wasn't dressed as formal in his denim, thick winter jacket and boots. The very dim lighting in this room made it nearly impossible to make out any specific features. But I knew this man wasn't my kidnapper. This man was much taller than the blonde one, with broader shoulders and a wider back.

This man didn't look as threatening as the cold eyed monster. He didn't mind me staring back at him, he even offered me an apologetic smile.

"You are out of your fucking mind, Anthony," someone yelled.

"Brother, if I didn't know any better, I would think you don't want retribution for our father," Anthony said. Anthony, the monster's name was Anthony.

"It's not even been twenty-four hours. Where's the first place you think they're going to come?" the other spoke. Although it was hard to distinguish between the two voices, both sounded very much alike.

The angry man opened the door with force causing a gush of wind in my direction, making my already cold body tremble more. I had nothing on but my pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, no socks, nothing else to keep me warm.