He's The Devil

When Marc was twelve years old the only thing he feared was what the new boy in his class thought about him. The fear of living life without his parents was never in his top 5.

He watched their blood coat the sheepskin carpet in the hallway, he'd felt the warm air become cold as a dark figure entered the house. He's looked into the eyes of the devil and now... he been dragged down into Hell.

Now nineteen and wrapped in a world of Hell, torture and blood Marc's mind drifts back into the past. What he doesn't realised is these memories will shorten his chance of a future.

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1. Runaway

“He killed my family in front of me.”

“Then why did you stay with him for seven years?” The police woman inquired, she looked like a nice woman. Bright blond hair, smooth skin, I gulped.

“I was made to stay…” I whispered, then chewing the sleeves of my hoodie I averted my eyes.

“Who made you stay Stewart?” the police woman pressed, leaning forward across the table, “Was it Ronaldo?” Ronaldo wasn’t his name, nor Stewart mine. But I was told to give out a fake name, else he’d… I swallowed, my throat going dry at the threat.

“I think that’s enough for today.” My hired lawyer piped out. I heard a chair move as the police officer rose and headed to the door,

“We’re going to take you to a safe house in an hour.” She called out before heading out of the room.

  My lawyer stood up and crammed all her paper work into a bag, it was clear she was in a rush.

“You don’t like me do you?” I blurted out. There was a pause, then she informed me that it was just money and then left.

 

I wasn’t bothered about the silence in the small interrogation room in the police station. I wasn’t bothered by the stuffy heat either. I was just hollow, had been for years. Ever since...ever since he killed them!

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