Chapter 6: Letter Writing, Dice
In the classroom, Angus listened absentmindedly to the teacher’s lecture, her thoughts drifting far away.
She stealthily pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from her desk, preparing to write a letter to the Carter family.
The paper trembled slightly in her hands, as if carrying all her fear and hope.
Her pen moved slowly across the page, each word painstakingly drawn from the depths of her heart, laden with pain and despair.
When writing about Eric’s abuse, Angus’s body shook uncontrollably.
The thought of Eric’s seemingly gentle yet sinister smile sent a bone-deep chill through her, cold sweat trickling down her skin.
She gripped the pen tightly, her nails nearly digging into her palm, fighting to suppress her fear.
Carefully finishing the letter, Angus folded it meticulously and hid it in the inner pocket of her bag.
Her eyes darted vigilantly, alert to every sound, as if danger lurked in every corner.
Her mind raced with plans—how to send the letter, how to escape Eric’s shadow, how to convince the Carter family of her plight.
While Eric was still in class, Angus quietly slipped out of the classroom.
Her steps were light, like a feather touching the ground, wary of drawing attention.
Yet her heart pounded like a drum, each beat sending a dull ache through her chest.
As she reached the campus garden, a familiar voice suddenly called out behind her.
“Elena!”
The voice struck like thunder in her ears, and Angus froze, slowly turning to see Eric approaching with a puzzled look.
Her mind surged with panic.
Gods, why is he here? He can’t find out my secret!
Her thoughts scrambled for excuses.
On the surface, she forced a smile, trying to appear calm.
“Brother, what are you doing here?”
Her voice quivered slightly, betraying her nervousness despite her efforts to hide it.
Eric frowned, his deep eyes locking onto her, as if peering into her soul.
“I saw you weren’t in class after my lesson ended. I got worried.”
His low, magnetic voice sent a chill down Angus’s spine.
Her heart raced, nearly leaping into her throat, but she feigned ease.
“I felt stuffy in the classroom, so I came out for a walk.”
Her eyes flickered, avoiding his gaze.
Eric studied her, suspicion in his eyes.
“Just that?”
He stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them.
Angus nodded vigorously.
“Of course, Brother. I’ll head back to class now.”
She hurried past him, her steps frantic, nearly tripping in her haste.
Still shaken, Angus returned to the classroom.
Sitting at her desk, her heart pounded relentlessly, refusing to calm.
She took deep breaths, trying to steady herself, but her mind replayed the garden encounter, worrying if Eric had sensed something.
Throughout the lesson, she remained distracted, her eyes darting to the door, fearing Eric might barge in to confront her.
That evening, Angus and Eric returned home together.
Angus treaded carefully, not daring to relax, terrified of angering Eric again.
Her steps were delicate, as if walking on a knife’s edge, her eyes downcast, avoiding his gaze.
As they entered the house, Eric said coldly, “We haven’t settled the last incident, and now this.”
His voice was like a winter gust, chilling Angus’s heart.
Angus lowered her head, repeating, “I’m sorry, I was wrong.”
Her voice trembled with fear and submission, her body quaking like a leaf in a storm.
Eric’s lips curled into a creepy smile.
“Let’s play a new game with new rules.”
His eyes gleamed with a chilling excitement, as if anticipating a cruel spectacle.
Angus’s heart sank.
She’d expected a harsher punishment, not an unknown game.
But she had no choice but to agree.
“Alright…”
Her voice was barely audible, laced with dread.
“We’ll roll a die. If it lands on 1, 3, or 5, you win, and I add days to my no-torture promise. If it’s 2, 4, or 6, I win, and I subtract days.”
Eric stated the rules casually, as if it were a trivial game.
Angus knew something was off, but what could she do?
She could only agree.
“Okay…”
Her voice shook with despair.
The game began, the die rolling in a bowl, each outcome like a decree of fate.
Eric’s face held an inscrutable smile, while Angus’s palms sweated, her eyes glued to the die, silently praying.
First roll: it stopped on 4.
Eric smirked smugly.
“Looks like I win this round.”
Angus’s heart sank.
Second roll: it landed on 2.
Eric’s smile grew wider.
“Another win for me.”
Angus’s face paled, her hope crumbling.
Third roll: it stopped on 6.
Eric laughed heartily.
“Haha, still me.”
Angus’s fists clenched, nails digging into her flesh.
Round after round, as expected, Eric won repeatedly, depleting the no-torture days entirely.
Watching the days dwindle, Angus’s heart died bit by bit.
She thought despairingly, This time, I’m done for.
When it was over, Eric headed to the basement alone, ignoring Angus, who stood dazed in place, as if her soul had fled her body.
Glancing at the basement, Angus saw Eric torturing someone.
The wretched screams and bloody scene churned her stomach.
She wanted to rush in and stop him, but her feet felt anchored by lead, unable to move.
Finally, she only asked, “What crime did he commit?”
Without looking up, Eric replied, “He killed someone. Want to join him?”
Angus quickly said, “No.”
She turned to head to bed, but lying there, her mind couldn’t rest, replaying the day’s events.
She thought of Eric’s cruel smile, the basement’s horrors, and what she could do next.
Her eyes stared wide into the darkness, sleepless.
Fear and helplessness overwhelmed her, as if the entire world had abandoned her.