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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: ALL FOR SHOW

ALL FOR SHOW

We still sit on the grass, not so far apart.

'Enough of all these shenanigans, Laylah's our topmost priority, we've got work to do.'

He still stares at me, I've seen that look before. He gets up after a minute or two, gets to Laylah on the other side of the car, drags her out with his right hand, then slams the door. He then indicates I follow him. I do as I am told exhibiting commensalism as if I'm a remora fish waiting for the leftovers of the shark. I say no word to him just tiptoe right behind him in my black suede boots. We trail into the forest for a very long time but I utter no word. We finally get to a very eye-catching building after all the turns we took into this deep forest. It is a mansion. A glasshouse. "What is this...? Who lives...?"

I glance at him longer than a glance would last. "Is this house his? Wonderful! It's a perfect spot to stay away from these humans. I should probably build a house here too." *smiles*

He enters through the front door which is located at the side of the building. Meaning we took a u-turn after getting to the front of the gigantic glasshouse. He still holds Laylah dragging her like four(4) bags of cement. We enter through the front door one of fine materials. We pass all rooms we see, kitchen, sitting room, corridors, to the down of the building, the basement. For a basement, wow. It's like it's calling me to come to live here but I can't, I can't live with people, never!

He puts Laylah on a chair, an iron chair. It's so rusted. He straps her with some leather belts fastened to the chair. It is a sight, all these tools. Wow. On his left is a large table, almost a table of six in a dining room. On its top are tools of all kinds. Some I am very well familiar with. Some I've never seen before. I don't even know their names. I scratch the back of my head with my left hand. My face is right at his back 4m apart.

'So what is next. We kill her or what? Cut some parts. Or... she's practically in a state more pitiful than my hair.'

He says nothing to me. He indicates something. I still stare at him waiting for an answer. He still stares at the table deciding which tool would be best. After a minute or two of stretching his hand, he stares at me. He moves his head like he is rearranging his neck bone. Then he pushes his head forward without moving an inch from that spot. I finally look at what he has been pointing at. A chair, fine mahogany sat there forming the while seat I've been asked to sit on. I stare at it for a while, what was I thinking? I do not know.

I go to where the chair sits dragging it with me, with my left palm. I put it in front of Laylah not so close to her and not so far away either. I bet it'd be a wonderful sight. Now that I think of it. I know why I want Laylah but what do they want with her. Why did my aunts and dad and the Top want with her? Is she of a special race or what? Or is she so so rich that the eyes have never seen?

I take five seconds to swallow in the wrong words. Trying to ask as politely as I have ever been. Not because I feared him but because the Top has got his back. Not because I fear the Top, just...

'What do you people want with Laylah? Did she perhaps commit a crime? Or...'

He doesn't answer me. Is he that he doesn't talk or he's just a sheep. I swallow in whatever ego and pride trying to build up cos if I don't how'd I know what I seek without him right now.

'Uhn? Which is it? Is she precious or just prey? Do you people go for preys or someone specific. Cos I don't seem to...'

He faces me cutting my sentences with his stares. It looks fierce like I am asking a question I shouldn't be asking. He's holding medical equipment. All those small tools those professional lifesavers hold. What does he need with that when they're others more efficient than those. What would I know, I use none of those by the way. I prefer fists.

Decorating the person's body in nontraceable ways or if I feel like it, I leave footprints. Mathew was my first victim. Poor him. Laylah's supposed to be mine but these vertebrates wouldn't let me be. I should have listened to Anne so I'd become to my full potential.

He goes to where Laylah sits pulling a table half his height along with him with the equipment on the table. An iron fine-tuned table. He takes to his knee like he is about to propose to her. Is he? Is that what all these are about, marriage? Oh, wow?

He takes that small knife. The one they use to cut open a person on those medical shows. I peep at one whilst watching my daily TV, the Hussein's.

He trails the knife across her upper body starting from her left arm exposing every path of the knife. Exposing all the red stains filling her shirt. Peach it was. Is that all he's going to do? That little. But to my surprise, after all, that trailing along her left arm he takes the knife forcefully driving it into her belly. Turning it like he's turning on a ceiling fan using the fan switch. Wow. This can't be real. Oh, I get it, slowly but painfully. Hmm.

Breaking me from my thoughts he says 'Where's it?'

Laylah is not herself anymore. She wasn't herself from the time at the house before the meeting with the Top but who cares. I unknowingly drool at the sight of everything. All seems fascinating.

'Where's it? LAYLAH Hussein, where did you keep it?' I now come to my senses digesting all that he uttered. "Where's what ?" Nobody mentioned they were looking for anything. They all just wanted her. Wasn't it just for enjoyment? I don't get it?

"We're the good guys"

My mind suddenly went to when Aunt Nellie told me that. She can't be serious. Wasn't all that for the killings and nothing more? Don't tell me they are the "good guys". That ca...nn...ot b..eee?

I smile forcefully. I refuse to believe that that is true. My mind is probably playing tricks with me. Isn't Anne gone? I'm trembling so hard. It feels like my head is on fire. My hand looks appealing. I look at boy Nathaniel to make sure I just am assuming unreal things but come to think of it he's so focused on getting his answer from her than her parts.

I'm still shaking. My eyes starts to close. That sharp headache came in again. I'm trying to shake it off but it seems what I have always been trying to avoid is going to come.

'This won't do. She's almost out of it. He unstraps her. Freeing her from those leather belts. I watch him in confusion. "What's going on?" He takes Laylah in his arms. Caring dearly for her. "Wasn't he dragging her along the grasses a few minutes ago? Or was that all for a show? It can't be?"

He walks past my almost pitiful self. He's about to go through the door when he calls out to my subconscious. 'Aren't you tagging along?' I make no speech. Words just can't form. My brain is hooking. Jamming so much that information can't pass through.

I manage to squeeze some few words. Hopefully, it'd make sense. 'Wh...a...t..are..y...ou..doi...ing...? A...r...e...y...ou...n..ot...quest...ioning...h..er...aga...in?

He's looking for the words to say to me. Why think just say or is his brain jamming like mine too?

'She has got to speak but not like this. She's almost gone. I have to find what I seek and she's the key so she has to be hale and healthy. Yeah, that's about it. Come help me change her.'

He still holds her in his hands, my toy. 'I better be dreaming, or else?'

I smile at him. Widening both corners till it's maximum. Letting out chuckles along. "I'd have a fun ride if it's otherwise." *silent chuckles*

'Sure, why not.' I tag along with him. Shutting the basement door behind us.

WHERE'S MY DAUGHTER?

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