Alex’s POV –
The first thing I smell is the thick heavy damp clinging in the air. It’s almost suffocating, filling the darkness with un-breathable air. I tighten my stomach, urging myself not to gag. I can’t see anything in front of me, not even my own hand. I remain still and listen out for any noise to walk towards.
The entire place is silent.
The ground underneath me is equally as damp, my boots squelching against the wet surface as I take a step forward. With my free hand, I roam the wall beside me, feeling for a switch to provide me with some light.
I don’t find anything.
Is this where Ariana has been locked up for weeks? In this filth and darkness?
I feel the anger build up, anger towards her kidnapper and towards myself. If she didn’t know me, this wouldn’t have hap-pened. She’d be safe right now, in a comfortable relationship with her ex, Justin. I grit my teeth, clenching my jaw as I con-tinue walking into the darkness. The deathly grip on my gun doesn’t loosen as I slowly head closer and closer to whatever the night has in store for me.
“Ariana?” I call out, her name sounding so foreign on my lips. My words echo through the building yet nothing responds back to me, not even a scratch or a whisper. The only sounds I can hear is the regular thump of my heart as I dive deeper into the derelict building.
“Ariana?” I call out again, my voice a hushed whisper. My hand travels across the brick wall until it touches cold metal. A different surface. I continue to run my hand over it until I find a handle, icy and wet from the damp in the air. I press down on it, holding my breath as the door struggles to open.
I lean my shoulder into it, prying it open. The sound of it scratching against the floor fills the silence and I slowly take a step inside. To my delight the room isn’t drowned in darkness. It’s dimly lit by a single bulb in the centre of the ceiling. The entire room is filthy, piles of rubble and stones scattered over the floors. My eyes begin to adjust to the shapes in the room and I squint, trying to study all of it as quick as I can.
I take one more step inside and that’s when a blunt force hits me over the head, taking me completely by surprise. A loud groan involuntarily leaves my body as I stumble towards the floor. The pain is instant, bubbling away at the back of my head. My vision blurs but I force myself to regain my balance. When I whirl around unsteadily, I’m hit with another blow.
This time the pain flares up in my side and I hiss in pain, the grip on my gun automatically loosening. I stumble back-wards, falling over several bricks and rubble in the process. I can’t make out my attacker, not when my vision is blurred and the room is barely lit. Instead I raise my gun towards the direction I was hit, shuffling as far back on the floor as I can.
“Who are you?” I yell out, my hands shaking as I continue to point the weapon forward. I breathe through the pain cursing through my body. I’ve done this before and I can do it again.
“Alejandro Ruiz, I knew you’d be stupid enough to come here.”
My name is called out and when I hear the voice, I freeze completely still. Through the shadows of the room, a figure steps out. A tall broad figure with eyes that I recognise. For a split second, I forget how to function properly. My eyes travel over the man’s features, the ugly scar traveling across his face and I feel like I’m seeing a ghost in the flesh.
“You.” I whisper, my eyes wide with shock. He cocks his head to the side, studying me with an evil in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.
“I know you.” I mumble, the memories flooding back in my mind. My thoughts hurtle backwards to when life was good, when Mama was still alive.
I remember being a young boy, walking down the street with my hand in Mama’s. We’re heading to the farmers market, a weekly routine of ours to buy some fresh fruit and vegetables. The sun is shining and I can almost taste the saltiness of the sea in the air. Mama tells me a joke and I throw my head back, my laughter filling the atmosphere between us. I look into her eyes and find them filled with nothing but love. She leans down, presses a firm kiss to my forehead. If I close my eyes, I can still smell her perfume, feel the warmth her affection gave me.
The memories flooding through my head whizz forward, skipping parts of the day I don’t remember. When the vision in-side my head becomes clear again, it’s replaced with a scene that I don’t ever want to see again. The vision of a man stand-ing in front of Mama, his hand wrapped around her wrist as he forces her backwards against him. My eyes widen as I freeze on the spot, watching as the man with evil eyes invades her personal space. He whispers words down her ears, words I’m too far away to hear. The horror and fear on my Mama’s face causes me to whimper, tears rolling down my cheeks as I watch. The basket she holds under her arms falls to the floor and I watch as apples roll across the cobbled streets.
I gasp and when I finally make sense of my surroundings, I’m lying on the floor, a gun still in my hands. The man with evil eyes is standing directly in front of me, a smirk on his face as it finally all begins to make sense. I now remember see-ing this man several times as a child and every time he would be harassing my mother. I don’t remember when it stopped but eventually it did. My eyes travel across the scar again, studying it as the pieces begin to fall into place.
“My father gave you that scar, didn’t he?” I ask him. The man pauses, his right hand lifting up to travel over his face.
“Si.”
I close my eyes, inhaling sharply.
“You killed my mother because of it?” I ask him, the words a struggle to say. I’ve been searching for her killer for years, since the day she died.
“Si.”
A pained cry leaves my body and I snap open my eyes, my features curling in disgust. I can imagine the last image my mother saw, this man’s face as he drained the life from her.
“You killed her!” I roar, my hands lifting the gun in his direction. I press the trigger, a loud gunshot filling the room. My mother’s murderer moves quick as a flash, avoiding the bullet and striking out with his leg. The gun is taken from my hands and I hear it slide against the floor, disappearing somewhere beside the rubble.
“I loved her since I was a child.” He hisses, his hands wrapping around my throat as he climbs on top of me. I lash out un-derneath him, my arms striking him from both sides. He barely flinches at the pain I’m inflicting on him, a look of content filling his features as he begins to squeeze the life from me. It’s like he’s planned this entire moment down to the detail.
“You killed her.”
My body shakes uncontrollably under me. I reach up with my hands, gasping for breath as the force of his hands tighten around my airways. I claw at his face, the ridged skin of his scar meeting my fingertips. He lets out a pained yell as I at-tack him with as much energy as I can. White spots fill my vision as I feel the oxygen leave my body, my legs stilling un-derneath the man’s weight.
This is it, I’ve failed.
I’ve failed to find Ariana and seek revenge for my mother.
The two most important women in my life.
“Forgive me,” I wheeze, my eyes repeatedly rolling to the back of my head. I think of their sweet faces as he applies fur-ther pressure, restricting my lungs from functioning. My biggest regret is not telling Ariana I love her with every fibre in my body. She’ll never know she owns my entire heart and has done from the first day I laid eyes on her. My body con-vulses in pain, my insides on fire from the lack of oxygen. Through the buzzing sound in my ear, I hear something else. The banging of the metal door as it’s forced open.
At this point, my vision has completely gone, darkness inviting itself into my body and mind. My body lies still, lifeless as I feel the man’s weight lift itself from me. A fight has broken out in the room but I can feel myself drifting away, further and further. The burning intensifies inside me until it’s unbearable but I can’t move.
The memories I’ve shared with my mother and Ariana play repeatedly on a loop as I lie there, the life and soul leaving my body. All I can think about is one thing . . .
I failed.