Chapter 5

• Chapter 5
• Risana
• The first thing that struck me was the loud pop song that boomed from the speakers. From the entrance of the club, Cyra had already begun to twist her body to the groove of the music while my eyes traveled swiftly around the hall.
• "Come, let me take you to our table," She grabbed my hand like I was a child and dragged me through the throng of bodies who'd lost their decorum to the songs.
• I held my breath, irritated by how strongly sweat mixed with several woody and musky scents.
• I moved slowly, crossing an arm so that their sticky bodies wouldn't touch mine, and when we got to our table, I let out an exhale.
• "How is this fun?" I couldn't help but ask while glaring at a young guy who'd kept his eyes on me. "It's noisy and smelly here. My head is banging," I yelled at Cyra who'd just finished talking to the waiter, hopefully I wouldn't end up with a sore throat.
• "Don't worry, it will grow on you," Olean responded, winking at a guy whom I presumed she'd dance with.
• With how hot they looked, they were sure to attract a lot of boys.
• I shook my head, deciding that this would be the first and only time I'd be found in a club. Hopefully, father wouldn't make good on his threat of trailing my movements or I'd be back home to my annoying siblings.
• "I'm not so sure about that,"
• The lights turned blue, the rays dazzling with other colors alongside it. I looked by my left and found a couple making out. Disgust loomed in my stomach as I watched them devour each other's mouth in public. What happened to shame?
• Father wouldn't approve of this.
• Soon, our order arrived. I'd requested water while the others had their sides of the table filled with plastic cups, a bottle of vodka and some other drinks I couldn't name.
• My nose scrunched at the harsh smell of the drink when M.C, Cyra's new friend opened the bottle.
• "You sure you don't want to have a taste of this, Ris?" Cyra asked, chugging the whole content from her cup in one swig.
• With my stomach swooning and my intestines working harder than they should, I could only shake my head in disagreement.
• Placing a palm on my lips, I stood up. "I need to use the restroom," I muffled, scurrying off into the darker part of the club that led to a long hallway.
• The ache grew, this time, more intense and painful. It felt like my bowel was being ripped out of my body. If the smell of vodka could bring me so much discomfort, how much more letting it into my system.
• Aided by the dim bulbs planted under the ceiling, I found a tag leading to the female's restroom. I managed to get in and threw up everything in my stomach, not even the burger I ate before heading to the store remained.
• That was it.
• I couldn't stay here any longer. Once I got back to the table, I'd tell Cyra that I couldn't stay any longer and go home. Hopefully, I'll be safe.
• After patting my stretched hair, ensuring that my face didn't look like someone who had nearly puked her intestine, I tottered out of the restroom.
• On getting to the last restroom that led out of the hallway, the fierce argument coming from the toilet forced me to a stop. The nature of their altercation wasn't just loud, it was scary.
• "If you don't give me the money you made from that package, I swear, your mama will never hear your chickenshit voice again," A man with a deep voice thundered.
• Cold chills bounced down my back when I heard the threat. My mind nudged me to leave. I shouldn't be there.
• Whoever was in there could hurt me if I was discovered, but strangely, my body couldn't move.
• Silence reigned for a moment and then a tussle followed. My ears picked the punches that flew, kicks that I wasn't sure where they landed and then an explosive sound that made the world come to a standstill.
• A scream tore out of my lips before I could stop it. The door swung open with the killer storming out; death and anger all fighting for equal proportions in his eyes.
• Those same eyes found mine, and then I gulped, blinking, taking a step back all at the same time.
• "You." He raised the pistol that just ended the other person at me.
• Not waiting for him to get any closer, I bolted, aiming straight for the crowd. He might be bloodthirsty, but he wasn't stupid enough to shoot at me while mixed up with the throng.
• A gunshot rang out, proving my theory wrong. The crowd dissipated, the volume of the music dropping to the lowest as everyone scampered for safety.
• From a distance, my name echoed. However, my legs didn't stop moving. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, fueling my race.
• Another shot was fired, then a countershot. I made it out of the building, dazed with a pulse racing faster than a cheetah on a hunt.
• Shallow breaths burst out of my lungs in quick succession. The air turned chaotic.
• Students who'd come to party and mingle with their mates scurried fearfully onto the busy street. Sirens wailed loudly filling me with hope, but a firm grip on my arm dashed it instantly.
• "Get your hands off me!" I raged, my punches weak on his wrist.
• With my back flattened against his chest it was difficult to see his face, but that wasn't important because I knew that I was doomed.
• What had I done in my past life to keep attracting all the dangerous men in San Francisco? First it was the serial killer who hijacked my car and threatened to kill me, now it was a murderer who was truly going to end me.
• "You don't have the right to make such demands after betraying me, Dola," The tone was sinister, arousing a wave of panic within me, but that voice, I could never forget.
• I sucked in air, but it barely passed my constricted throat. I shut my eyes, swinging my head to the sides vehemently so as to remove myself from this evil dream.
• Because it couldn't be true.
• But when my eyes fluttered open and I managed to steal a glance at the man who kept me still with just one arm with his gun pointed against my head, I realized that it wasn't a dream or a trance.
• The serial killer had found me.