Sinful Promises (The Sinful #1)

Fear surged through me as I waited.

Is death waiting for me behind this door?

He swung it open, revealing a dark, ominous basement below. The staircase disappeared into the shadows, daring me to descend.

“Uh… you go first!” I blurted, my voice trembling. “Please?”

The man stayed silent.

With a heavy sigh, I accepted my fate and began my descent into the darkness below. Each step felt like a weight on my chest, the air growing thicker with every creak of the stairs.

Darkness has always felt suffocating to me, even as a kid. It seemed to press down on me, trapping me in its grip. That’s why I always slept with my blinds open, craving even the faintest hint of light from outside. I remembered clutching my teddy bear tightly while facing the monsters under my bed. Even then, the light from my window was a comforting presence.

As I descended the stairs into the gloomy basement, I was grateful for the small window set high on the wall. It let in a sliver of light, a tiny beacon in the dimness. Even the faintest glimmer can be a lifeline when everything else feels overwhelming.

The musty odor of the basement intensified with each step, and I cupped my hand over my nose to ward off the smell.

At last, I reached the basement floor, swallowed by pitch-black darkness.

Then, a voice pierced the silence.

“S-Sofiya?”

Chapter

Twenty

“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.”

? Stephen King

Sofiya

Many, many years ago.

Beneath the heavy covers, my heart raced, and beads of sweat dotted my forehead. With my eyes squeezed shut, I took a deep breath, trying to gather the nerve to face whatever nightmare was coming.

I can do this!

“One,” I whispered, my hands trembling.

But what if they grab me?

“Two,” I murmured, my lips quivering.

Maybe they’ll cook me with onions and garlic, serve me on a shiny platter, and their little monster kids will pour barbecue sauce on my legs—just like I do with my favorite chicken nuggets Dasha makes every Thursday.

“Three!” I squeaked, pulling the covers down and peeking around my room with wide eyes.

I was sure I heard a monster call my name. Where did it go?

Panic churned in my stomach. What if it’s hiding under my bed?

Just as I was about to pull the cover back over my head, afraid its long metal claws would find me, the door to my room swung open, and I let out a terrified scream.

That’s it. The monsters are coming to get me.

But it turned out a different kind of monster had just entered my room.