Chapter 4 The Beast's Lair

Faith's breath came in shallow gasps as she sat upright in the grand four-poster bed. Waking a second time to her reality.

The room around her was unsettlingly beautiful, dark mahogany furniture, heavy velvet drapes, and flickering candle sconces casting eerie shadows along the stone walls. It smelled of aged wood, parchment, and something richer. Muskier. Like the lingering presence of something not entirely human. Something strange, out of this world.

She was still in her nightdress, though not the one she had been wearing before.

Someone had changed her.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Faith slid her legs over the side of the bed, testing the cool floor beneath her bare feet. She had to get out. Wherever this was, it wasn't home. It wasn't a place she'll want to be. She has has to leave before anyone notices.

How did she get here, last she remembered she was......... Reality hit her hard, she wasn't dreaming, no! This wasn't a dream, it happened, last night actually happened.

Then-

A whisper.

Soft. Barely there, almost distant but close, too close.

She froze.

The door creaked open again, and the little girl peeked inside, her pale face lit by candlelight.

Faith's heart twisted at the sight of her.

Alive. She thought it was a dream the first she saw her.

The girl took a step closer, her dark eyes wide with curiosity. "You're awake, again" she said, a small, pleased smile tugging at her lips.

Faith swallowed hard. "Where am I?" she asked again, her voice hoarse. Tired from last night.

The child tilted her head, her dark curls bouncing.

"have you forgotten so soon, this is Daddy's house."

Faith's skin prickled.

"Who... who is your daddy?"

The little girl's face brightened with something close to adoration.

"Father Richard."

Faith's breath left her in a rush. Several thoughts running through her mind. How did he manage to do this?

No.

No, that wasn't possible.

Richard was many things-a monster, a deceiver, a killer-but a father?

The girl, completely unaware of Faith's spiraling thoughts, stepped closer. "He said you'd wake up soon. That you might be scared."

Faith's throat tightened.

She reached out slowly, gently placing her hands on the girl's shoulders.

"What's your name?" she whispered.

The child blinked. "Anita."

Faith's heart clenched.

She knew that name.

Elena's daughter. The woman who had sobbed in the village square, begging for someone to find her child. The one who had lost her mind searching for her missing child, she hasn't still recovered from that lost.

The realization nearly knocked Faith breathless.

Anita is alive. Here. In Richard's house.

"Anita..." Faith forced her voice to remain calm. "How long have you been here?"

The girl frowned, thinking. "A long time."

Faith swallowed against the bile rising in her throat. Her heart beating fast within its cage.

"What does Richard... what does he do with you?"

Anita tilted her head, confused by the question.

"He takes care of us," she said simply. "Feeds us. Protects us."

Faith's blood ran cold.

Feeds them? Protects them? Or keeps them?

Before she could ask more, the air shifted.

A presence.

Something watching.

Faith stiffened.

And then-

A voice.

Smooth. Deep. Familiar.

"You're awake."

Faith turned slowly, every muscle in her body locking into place, rather for self defence.

Richard stood in the doorway.

His black priestly robes were gone, replaced by a dark, loose-fitting tunic and tailored trousers. He looked different like this. Less holy, more... dangerous.

His dark hair was tousled, like he had only just woken up himself, and his crimson eyes flickered in the dim candlelight.

Faith's throat dried.

He wasn't smiling. Wasn't smirking. He was simply watching her.

And somehow, that was worse.

Anita, completely unaffected by the tension in the room, lit up at the sight of him.

"Daddy!" she chirped, running toward him.

Faith flinched at the word.

Richard caught the girl effortlessly, resting a hand on her small head.

"Anita," he murmured, "What did I tell you about waking guests before sunrise?"

Anita pouted. "I just wanted to say hello."

Richard exhaled through his nose, amused despite himself.

"You'll have plenty of time for that later, little one." His eyes slid back to Faith. "For now, I need to speak with our guest."

Faith stiffened.

Anita, pouting but obedient, released him and gave Faith one last look before skipping away.

The door clicked shut behind her.

And just like that-

Faith was alone with Richard.

A predator and his prey. A Dangerous Dance, one that the winner is known before the start.

Richard leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You look like you've seen a ghost." Faith's hands clenched into the bedsheets. "You kidnapped me."

Richard arched a brow. "Did I?"

Faith shot to her feet. "Don't play with me, Richard. Where are we? Why are there children here?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied her, his gaze slow, deliberate.

"You've always been too curious for your own good," he mused.

Faith took a shaky step forward. "Are you keeping them prisoner?"

Richard's expression remained unreadable. "No."

She swallowed hard. "Then... what is this?"

A long pause.

Then, Richard pushed off the doorframe and took a single step toward her.

"Do you know what happens to children who are taken by creatures like me, Faith?" he asked quietly.

Faith's breath hitched.

Richard tilted his head. "They die."

The room seemed to darken at his words.

"They are hunted. Torn apart. Devoured." His voice was soft, but there was something sharp beneath it. "That is the natural order of this world. Monsters consume. Humans perish."

He took another step forward.

Faith refused to move back.

"But I," Richard murmured, "have saved them."

Faith's stomach twisted. "You stole them."

Richard exhaled, almost tired. "Would you rather they had been torn apart in the woods?"

Faith's nails dug into her palms. "That's not-"

"Or perhaps," Richard interrupted smoothly, "you'd rather I let the hunters take them?"

Faith frowned. "Hunters?"

A slow, wicked smile curled his lips.

"Ah," he breathed. "You really don't know, do you?"

Faith's pulse quickened. "Know what?"

Richard's eyes gleamed.

"There are things out there far worse than me, little lamb."

His voice lowered to something dark.

Something dangerous yet alluring.

"And they are coming, sooner enough"

Faith's breath caught.

Richard smiled.

"For you."