Poison Rose of Avalon

*This chapter contains graphic depictions of physical abuse that may be distressing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.*

Liora writhed in pain, every nerve in her body screaming for her to fight back, yet she felt utterly helpless in the grip of the two immoral rascals, Hanuel and Andreas.

Hanuel knelt over her, his legs straddling her trembling form as he loomed menacingly. Meanwhile, Andreas held her hands upward, pinning them in place, effectively rendering her powerless.

The weight of their combined presence pressed down on her like a dark cloud, stifling any flicker of rebellion within.

Hanuel hovered threateningly close, a predatory glint in his eyes, ready to strip her of not only her dignity but also her very essence. Liora's heart raced, a mix of fear and rage coursing through her, but deep inside, a desperate spark remained, urging her to summon whatever strength she had left.

Before any undignified action could proceed further, the phone's shrill ring shattered the tent's suffocating air, momentarily freezing everyone in place.

Andreas' grip on the situation faltered slightly, and Ronnie quickly leapt to his feet, grabbing his phone from a nearby surface.

"Hey!" Ronnie's voice buzzed with excitement, answering the call.

"You called at the perfect time," Ronnie's tone dripped with a disturbing glee, as though he'd stumbled upon the night's grandest entertainment.

"I think otherwise," came the voice from the other end.

Ronnie grinned, his eyes darting to Liora. "You won't believe what we caught. This bitch... she's something else. Mind-blowing."

"Bitch," repeated the voice on the phone, accompanied by a faint, eerie sound—a sharp whoosh that seemed to slice through the call.

Ronnie chuckled deepened, ignoring any sign of what was coming, "Yeah, man, after tonight, she's ours. You wait; we'll share something special in the group chat."

The voice on the other end hummed, calm but unnervingly cold. "I can sense the... excitement in your voice."

Ronnie laughed again, his gaze still on Liora, who glared at Hanuel despite her tears and quivering, fragile body. "She's a wild cat. Perfect. She is perfect like-"

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The sound, sharp and rhythmic, came again, cutting through Ronnie's sentence.

The voice from the end spoke again, its tone icy. "A perfect doll. Isn't she?"

The word "doll" sounded familiar to Ronnie, echoing the way his friend pronounced it possessively. His laughter died instantly, and an alarm bell rang in his mind.

"What have you done, Ronnie?" The voice on the other end was calm, almost serene, but the undercurrent of menace sent a chill down his spine.

Ronnie's eyes flicked nervously to his friends, who were waiting for him to start recording Liora's humiliation. But the line crackled faintly before the voice came back, slow and deliberate: 

"You should've thought twice before touching what isn't yours."

Hanuel's patience was threadbare, fraying at the edge every moment passed. How long must he wait?

Ronnie's incessant phone call grated on his already frazzled nerves, yet Hanuel attention was wholly fixed on Liora, who glared at him with fierce defiance. Her eyes wide open in alert, warning him he would die in her hands if he made another move, even though she knew she was powerless.

Hanuel eyes darted from her fierce eyes to her bloodied trembling lips, taunting him with tenancy. The vivid crimson of her wounds only stoked his depraved hunger. He leaned closer, hovering over her, his breath hot against her skin, his lips hovering near hers.

Liora turned her face away, desperately trying to escape what was coming. Hanuel grabbed her chin tightly, forcing her to look at him once more.

"Let go of me, you beast," She cried out, her voice cracking under the weight of her despair.

Pressing her lips together tightly as if she were on the brink of sobbing. The rawness of her tone revealed her inner struggle, creating a painful melody to stay strong despite her hopeless situation.

Miles away, her voice reached Caspian through the phone's receiver. Her last hope to put off the fight, in her tearful voice, struck him like a blade to his soul. And it ached him; it ached him so much that, no matter how many piles of bricks he had built around his heart to make it stable before making this call, they all crumbled in an instant.

His voice was calm but laced with lethal intent as he growled, "If Hanuel and Andreas so much as breathe near her again, I'll ensure every woman in their family shares a fate so horrific that my name will haunt them for generations."

Ronnie stiffened, his hand tightening around the phone. His head spun, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. He turned toward Andreas and Hanuel, his expression pale with dread. "STOP! STOP! "

"What...?" Andreas snapped, his grip on Liora unrelenting.

Ronnie's voice rose in panic. "I said leave her. Right. This. Instant."

His gaze darted between Andreas and Hanuel, his face drained of colour, and that did not go unnoticed by the other three beasts while Liora, with eyes closed, desperately prayed for rescue.

Before any of the three could protest, another phone rang, this time Liora's. Ronnie looked at the screen, his eyes widening at the name on the screen: Caspian Glacier. Beside the name was a heart-shaped emoji.

"What the…?" Ronnie's thoughts raced. His gaze darted from the phone to Liora, confusion and terror battling for dominance.

'Who the hell is she?' he whispered to himself, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

Ronnie took a deep breath and hesitated before answering the call, his trembling fingers brushing against the screen. In an instant, the role has reversed. It was Ronnie on the spot.

"Cas—"

"Don't dare utter my name." Caspian's voice came as icy as death itself.

Ronnie's throat constricted as he stepped out of the tent, glaring at Hanuel and Andreas. His look was a silent warning for them not to do anything until he got back.

"Is… is she…" He couldn't finish the question, dread gripping him like a vice. Whatever truth awaited him, he desperately hoped it wasn't what he feared.

Ronnie's hand trembled as he clutched the phone, Caspian's chilling words from the past echoing in his mind. The memory was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday,

Flashback: Last year

The golden Californian sun had spread through the massive glass windows of Caspian's beach house, casting long, lazy shadows across the room.

Ronnie had stretched out on the leather couch, a glass of whiskey dangling from his hand, while Kevin, Hanuel and Andreas were busy dragging Mariuana.

"You're seriously saying you don't get jealous?" Ronnie asked, his voice slurring slightly from the alcohol. "Not even when someone's riding on your girl? Come on, Caspian.."

Caspian had been seated in a sleek armchair, his posture composed, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "I don't get jealous, Ronnie," he'd replied, swirling his drink. "If she wants someone else, let her. You all can have her too, for all I care."

Kevin had let out a bark of laughter. "Damn, man. That's cold."

Andreas had leaned forward, a deep frown etched into his features. "You mean to say you wouldn't care if we all hooked up your California girlfriend? The one you and your other friend James dating her at the same time?"

"Nope." Caspian had shrugged, unfazed. "If she is happy and you are happy, who am I to stop."

Ronnie had propped himself up on his elbows, his grin widening. "So you are one of those who don't mind sharing their women?"

Caspian's smirk had deepened, his blue eyes darkening as he leaned back. "You misunderstand me, Ronnie. I never said she was my woman." He shifted his orbs toward the window, watching the waves ebb and flow, squinting his eyes against the light,

"There's only one I'll never share. And she's not just a girl, but my precious doll."

Kevin snorted, nearly spilling his drink. "A doll? What is this, kindergarten?"

Unperturbed, Caspian had continued, his tone dropping to an eerie calm.

"Mock all you want. But she's not someone you'll want to mess with."

"And if we do?" Ronnie had asked, his tone playful but laced with a challenge.

Caspian had turned his gaze on him; his expression was devoid of humour. "Then I'll carve each of you apart."

The room had fallen silent.

"Carve us apart?" Andreas asked, his voice strained and shocked.

"Yeah! Piece by piece," Caspian said, his lips curving into a sinister smile. "And I'll ensure you're alive long enough to watch me do it to each one of you."

Present -

Ronnie's hand trembled as he gripped the phone with sweaty palms, his throat dry and his heartbeat erratic. The weight of Caspian's words wasn't something anyone could ignore.

"Ronnie," Caspian's voice cut through the memory like a knife, dragging him back to the present. "If you had used your brain for once, you would've figured out why she was walking around safe and untouched despite outing the school's name."

Caspian let out a low, bitter laugh, soaked with anguish. "If only I had known sooner… If only that thing had informed me before."

His voice cracked, laced with a pain so palpable it felt like it could seep through the phone. "Today wouldn't have happened. But it's my fault, isn't it? My mistake."

Ronnie's knees felt weak. He could barely hold onto the phone, the weight of the conversation crushing him.

"Now tell me, Ronnie…" Caspian's voice turned darker, colder, almost unrecognizable. "What should I do with you four? You dared to touch her."

His laughter erupted again, this time drenched in madness, and beneath it, a muffled sob. "You guys touched her?" He questioned, the crease forming between his eyebrows deepening as he stressed each word. He could hardly bring himself to believe someone else dared to harm his Ora, his precious doll.

"She's supposed to stay perfect," Caspian continued, his words coming fast and breathless. "Perfect eyes, perfect face, perfect makeup, perfect dress, perfect body and a perfect smile—no wounds, no bruises, untouched by anyone. And you… you four shattered her perfection!"

Caspian's voice broke, trembling with an emotion Ronnie couldn't decipher—was it despair, rage, or something darker? At that moment, Caspian wasn't just furious; he was unhinged, his grief and wrath spiralling out of control.

"I should have ripped her away from this world sooner," Caspian muttered, almost to himself. "Hidden her, made her mine like all the others. And now… now I'll tear everything apart. Especially you four."

"P-please," Ronnie stammered, his fear reaching a breaking point. His voice cracked as he tried to plead, but words failed him. "We did not know."

Caspian let out a low, bitter chuckle, the sound more chilling than any shout. "Run, Ronnie. Run far. Hide wherever you think you'll be safe. I'll dig through the earth itself to find all four of you,"

Caspian hissed, his voice chillingly calm yet brimming with deadly promise. "And if you think the skies will protect you, think again—I'll tear through them too, shred every cloud, and drag you down from the heavens if that's where you try to flee."

Ronnie's breath hitched as the icy threat sliced through him. "We made a mistake. Just forgive this once....."

"Look what you guys have done, making my heart bleed." Sitting at the edge of his terrace, Caspian looked at the pool, which was oddly filled with red-coloured water instead of the usual clear blue. His entire outfit was splattered with a deep crimson colour.

"I have sealed your fates," Caspian stated, his voice dropping to a whisper, the intensity suffocating. "But as a childhood friend," he spat the word like it left a sour taste in his mouth, "I'll make sure you four get the most honourable memorial after death, in tribute to the good times we once shared."