The Heavenly Demon of Terror

I could hear the faint rumble of an engine approaching, growing louder as it neared the villa. A sharp, familiar sound. Abigail.

I stood still for a moment, waiting as the sound of tires against gravel slowly faded. "I wouldn't be surprised if she brought another man home," I muttered to myself. "But she better prepare for the consequences."

I kept my focus on the driveway, watching as Abigail stepped out of the car. My eyes narrowed. She didn't bring anyone with her this time. Interesting. But then again, I wasn't particularly concerned anymore. She was still the same—her face alone was enough to fill me with disgust.

I turned and started walking toward the guest room, trying to shake off the anger simmering inside me. That was when I heard her voice.

"Samuel! Let's talk!"

I paused but didn't turn to face her right away. My hand tightened around the door handle. "What could she possibly want now?"

I sighed and turned to look at her, my tone cold. "Ms. Bardot, is there anything you want to ask?"

She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine for something, maybe answers or some semblance of the man she once knew.

"What happened to you, Samuel?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and... fear?

I smirked, feeling the bitterness rise in my throat. "I died slowly," I said flatly.

Her face went pale as she stepped back slightly, her breath catching in her throat. "Died slowly?" she repeated, her hands trembling at her sides.