The devil is and always will be a gentleman.

They say that the eyes are a window to someone’s soul.
But what if they are empty?

Scarlet Waters, a teenager who is being stalked down by her future husband, is slowly noticing everyone around her is dying. Drained of all hope and clueless to her serial killer's wishes, she plays straight into a pair of loving arms.

She falls helplessly in love and begins twisting her morals to be with this man. Everything that she stood for in the past is altering and she is forced to become disturbingly submissive to this beast.

However, you shouldn't fight ten enemies with nine bullets because damaged people are dangerous- they know how to survive.

She has one question for you:
How exactly do you breathe when your kisses are filled with pain?


7. Hunter

The next morning, i done an unthinkable thing since the death of Isabella. I made an effort with my appearance.

Whatever had changed overnight, i liked it.


My hair was curled, corkscrew ringlets resting upon my shoulders; makeup done to a particularly high standard- if i do say so myself- and a cute mini skirt with a tight black blouse. I was looking and feeling cute.


Coincidentally, i had double english today followed by the rest of the day off. Wednesdays were easily my favourite time of the week.


As i walked into the English class, i tried out my new persona, ready to make new friends and drag myself out of this lonely pit of despair. I needed friends. Desperate, was not a strong enough word.


Hunter barges into the room just as the bell sirens around the room, signalling he was almost late to class. His arms fly up in the air , pretending to show the teacher he was unarmed as he casts her a lazy grin. Eyeing the room hesitantly, the black orbs rested on me. He smiled twistedly.


Quickly, i puffed my chest out like i had never lost a war as he strode over to me, cocking his head to the right.

“You look different today, Red.” He comments and i frown. Cheekily, he picks up a lock of my dyed, red hair and links this new nickname to my favourite colour.


Red. I like it.


Without hesitation, he sits down besides me and kicks back on his chair.


“Thanks. Are we going to get any work done today or…?” I trail off, smirking. Slowly but surely, the old me was seeping through.


“What, now you can actually talk to me?”

“Oh, shut up!” I playfully swat him on the arm, earning a mischievous wink. He grins, baring his pearly white teeth before he started copying my notes out of my book.


“So, why did you move school?” I question, carefully tip-toeing around this subject. If he did kill someone, maybe i could run? That sounded pathetic.


“Are you asking me if i killed the guy i got in a fight with?” He accuses as he stops writing and sits up. Looking slightly wounded, he glances in my direction as if he has known me for years before shaking his head and continuing on the work.

“Maybe i should be asking you if you killed the girl you were friends with?” He retorts.


Ouch- smack a girl whilst she is down.


“But that would be stupid. I know you didn’t kill her.” He murmurs, chucking his pen down to signal he has finished.

“How could you be so sure?”

My teasing didn’t even get a flinch from him,

“Because i recognize you. I was at the club the other night. Do you remember?”


Time faltered and the world was obliterated for a few minutes.


“Don’t get me wrong, i didn’t see your friend get killed or whatever.” He shrugs as if it was the most normal thing,

“We spoke, remember?”


I shook my head slowly and then whispered,

“I was drunk. I only remember the main things that night.”

“No, you only remember the negative things of that night.”


I became uneasy. It was true, as much i hate to say it. It was a tiny bit of dancing, a whole lot of arguing, and then home where we found she was missing, impermanently back then.  


“What are you suggesting happened?”

His eyes bore into mine, i was scared.


I was also very foolish. I shouldn’t have shown fear; men like him fed on fear. They used it to their advantage. It was all part of his sagacious games. Let them see, but not too much. Let them feel, and then take it all away.


“You fell into me, that night at the club. You were drunk, extremely.” He nodded, flicking his pen against his lip. My mouth fell open and i rolled my eyes,

“But i didn’t drink that much.”


He laughs loudly, drawing a few uneasy glances,

“That is exactly what you kept telling me that night.”


I scrunch up my face and shake my head again. Obviously, i would remember such a gorgeous man.

“You complimented my eyes. Ringing any bells?” He tries again and this time i feel sick.

His eyes.

Magnificent, alluring orbs of pure mystery. I am pulled sober, god knows what i was like when tipsy. Of course i would compliment his eyes, i have dreamt of them every night leading up to the incident. They were gorgeous!

Naive Scarlet waters, you stupid, manipulated idiot.

“You must have been pretty smashed not to remember the conversations we had. I was part of the group you were dancing with when Kylie went off.” He presses and i nod uncertainly. Maybe he was.


After all, there were a lot of people that night.


“Oh yeah, i remember!” I lie, forcing a smile through my confusion.

This was the only person attempting conversation with me, i wasn’t going to blow it. That and he may have been sober enough to find out where Isabella disappeared too.

Some people don’t get closure and just move on; i was going against my earlier thoughts. Of course i needed closure, then, maybe, Isabella would stop visiting me in my sleep. Isabella’s eyes, to be exact.

“Did you testify for  my whereabouts?” I bite my lower lip, keeping my voice low to stop the eavesdroppers.

“Something like that.”

His smile alone, could have satisfied my question.


“It must be hard for you. To lose three people in a week.” He pitied, scrunching his eyebrows together and leaning in closer. Shrugging, my eyes scanned the desk before i glanced back up to his alluring ones,

“It is.”

“You seem to be managing well.”


A twang of guilt radiated through my body when he indicated to my freshly done hair. I was mourning, sure, but selfishly.

“It is more of a mental strain. I wanted a change.”  I whisper, smothering down my hair.

“We are all addicted to something that takes away the pain , red.”


Hunter observed me deeply for a moment and then grinned, looking away. I probably looked like an attention seeking b*tch.


“Tell me,” He says quietly,

“Who do you think done it?”

“You are asking me to chose my best friend’s murderer?” I spat out, outraged. Hunter shrugged as we both swam in our own silence for a few minutes. It was a good question. Who did i think killed Isabella?

“Neither.” I whisper,

“I don’t believe either of the woman could have hurt Isabella.”


Another twang of guilt stung through my bones; i was practically placing bets upon a dead girl.


“Was Isabella having an affair?” Hunter frowned, playing with the pen in his hands.


“The reports show-” I began but Hunter suddenly cut me off,

“I know what the reports say. I want to know what you think, Scarlet. Was Isabella having an affair?”

I shook my head.

“No?” He voices my answer as if it would make the difference and it did.

My hesitation was enough to get anyone interested.

“Go on.”
“There was this one time, but that was all sorted.” I explain, instantly regretting my betrayal. But i was tired of being alone, no one to voice my concern to; though it wouldn’t matter now, would it?

Hunter pressed on, using hand gestures to get me to continue.


“I caught Isabella in bed with another woman. It was a week before her…” I couldn’t bring myself to admit that she was gone. Instead, i skipped the word and carried on describing what happened,

“Kylie found out from the woman a few days after. Isabella had been seeing this woman for two weeks but insisted it meant nothing.”


Hunter hisses and shakes his head,

“Is it mean to say that maybe Isabella deserved her death?”

I stayed quiet. No one deserved death, or did they? Isabella was my best friend, whore or not.


“Face it, Red. She cheated and got caught with this girl multiple times, adding onto the already brewing fights which had been leading up to that night. Kylie was trying to protect Isabella with her clothing and isabella ignorantly shoved her away.” Hunter hypothesized,

“Kylie has been tossed aside too many times, beaten and broken. In my opinion, even the nicest people have their limits.”


Silence. His points were extremely valid.

But of course they would be. He was a trained psychopath. How many scars did Kylie and i justify because we loved the person holding the knife?

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