Chapter no.7 Monster

Read advance chapters of all my works or want to support me .

https://www.p.a.t.r.e.on.com/Adamo_Amet

....

Join us on discord :

https://discord.gg/DXv2nkTB

•••••••••••••••••••

The sun set behind the neatly trimmed houses of the suburban neighborhood, casting a warm, golden hue over the small house. Its white picket fence and well-maintained garden were evidence of the comfortable life Joshua and his family lived. However, today, there was a noticeable darkness within the house, not from the descending twilight, but something more sinister.

"Honey, I think the power's gone out," came a concerned voice from the kitchen.

"Huh? O-okay... I'll check the circuit breaker," replied Joshua, his voice betraying a hint of irritation. He made his way to the basement, each step echoing his growing apprehension.

Opening the breaker box, he muttered to himself, "Why is the switch down?" The atmosphere felt heavy, the silence pressing against him. Before he could investigate further, a hand reached out from the shadows, gripping him tightly. He barely caught a glimpse of a cloth before it covered his face, and his world went black.

---

The sharp sting of cold air and the constriction of ropes around his wrists woke Joshua. Panic surged through him as he tried to process his surroundings—a dimly lit basement, its damp, oppressive air stifling his cries. He was tied to a wooden chair, and a few feet away, a table loomed with a macabre display of instruments: pliers, knives, and guns.

Standing there, with an intense stare, was John. Every line on his face seemed etched with pain, loss, and vengeance.

"I'm the husband and father of the woman and child you killed," John's voice was eerily calm, contrasting the chaos of emotions swirling within him.

Joshua's heart raced, his mind reeling. *How did he find me?*

"I didn't mean to—" he began, but John's chilling voice cut him off.

"I'm going to kill you. If you try any funny business, I'll kill your family too. Depending on your answers, I'll decide whether you die a painless or painful death. And whether your family dies too. Understand?"

The weight of the situation pressed down on Joshua, rendering him almost breathless. He managed a shaky nod, "Y-yes."

"Why didn't you turn the handle to avoid hitting them?" John's eyes were unwavering, searching for the truth.

Fear made Joshua's voice tremble, "Th-there were multiple people on the crosswalk. The truck was already accelerating. If I were to turn the steering wheel quickly, the truck would've overturned and killed them all. I had to make a decision!"

John's gaze never faltered, "So why did you decide to kill my family?"

The walls seemed to close in on Joshua. "I'm sorry! I had no other choice!"

"So my family's lives were worth less than the sum of the others' lives?" John's voice was cold, his pain palpable.

Tears welled up in Joshua's eyes, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

John looked away, lost in thought, struggling with his inner demons. *Would I have made the same decision? Would I have sacrificed my own family for the greater good?*

"Why are you crying?" John's voice softened slightly.

"Because I'm so sorry and scared," Joshua's voice broke, "This is all so tragic. Why did this happen?"

Silence hung in the air, a grim reminder of the weight of their choices and circumstances.

"I'm really... really sorry. I will do anything to pay for my sin," Joshua continued, desperation evident in every word, "It is soon my daughter's birthday. Please... please save me! I want to live!"

John, consumed by his grief, pain, and anger, looked at Joshua, and for a fleeting moment, the two men's eyes locked, the depth of their despair evident.

"Don't we all?" John's voice was barely audible as he took the pliers from the table.

.....

The room's atmosphere grew thick, almost palpable, as John's psyche teetered on the brink. The darkness within him, fueled by rage and grief, consumed his rationality. There was a twisted glint in John's eye, signaling a descent into insanity. The grip on the pliers tightened, their metal surface already stained with fresh blood. The basement, which had once been a sanctuary of memories and storage, now echoed with sounds of pain and anguish.

Joshua's screams filled the room, bouncing off the walls, and intertwining with John's maniacal laughter. There was something profoundly disturbing about the juxtaposition of these sounds, like a macabre symphony. As the screams began to wane, a chilling silence settled, only to be interrupted by the low, guttural sounds of John's heavy breathing.

The bloodied pliers dropped to the floor with a clattering sound, their deed done. John looked down at Joshua's lifeless form, but instead of remorse or satisfaction, a newfound hunger gleamed in his eyes. The sight before him, which should have been repulsive, appeared oddly beautiful in his fractured state of mind. The twisted artistry of power and control, the vulnerability of a man at his mercy, the cascade of emotions playing out—it was intoxicating.

Is this what power feels like? The control over life and death? To be a God.

John pondered internally, his thoughts spiraling.

The raw, visceral thrill of it... It's... it's beautiful.

He recalled the desperate pleas, the terror in Joshua's eyes, the surrender to inevitable fate. It was a rush like no other, a high that surged through John's veins, making him feel alive despite the life he had just taken. The dark void in his heart, which had been consuming him, seemed momentarily filled with this newfound sense of purpose.

I need to feel this again, he mused.

The adrenaline, the fear in their eyes, their emotions so raw and genuine. It's the only thing that feels real anymore.

His inner musings continued, But what next? How do I replicate this feeling without raising suspicion? A twisted smile began to form on his lips. The maze of thoughts within him began to form a plan, a way to relive the thrill while eluding the grasp of the law.

The room, once a scene of domestic tranquility, was now transformed into a macabre tableau of John's descent into madness. The duality of man—where love, grief, and vengeance intersected—had birthed a monster.