C1 CHAPTER 0001

Freedom

“You think I don’t know about her?” Mom’s voice rang through the house, loud and furious. It was the kind of anger that made the walls shake.

Dad stood there, pale and desperate, his hands up as if trying to placate a raging storm. “It’s not what you think, honey. Please, let me explain!”

“Explain? What about the blonde girl? The curly one with the green eyes? The tall woman in the red dress? Can you explain those too?!” she cut him off, her voice trembling with a fury that only betrayal could ignite.

“You cheated on me with all those women, thinking I’d never find out…” she hissed, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone that sent shivers down my spine.

Her eyes widened as they flicked around the kitchen, finally landing on the knife block. I watched in horror, my heart pounding in my chest, as she snatched up a knife, her hands shaking with a rage that was about to boil over.

“No! Mom, stop!” I wanted to scream, but my voice was trapped in my throat, choked by fear. I was hidden on the staircase, my body frozen, unable to move, as she lunged forward and drove the knife into my dad’s chest.

His eyes went wide, a strangled gasp escaping him as he collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

This was the day my entire world shattered. The day that changed my life, my personality, my fears, and everything I believed about the people closest to me.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as I watched my mother stand over his body, her chest heaving with each breath, blood pooling around my father and staining the carpet a dark, unforgiving red.

My mind was spinning, struggling to grasp the horror unfolding before me. I wanted to scream, to run, but I was numb, paralyzed by shock.

I needed to get out. I needed help.

Without a sound, I turned and fled, sprinting down the stairs and bursting out the back door. My feet barely touched the ground as I raced to the neighbor’s house, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I pounded on the door.

When it finally opened, I thrust a piece of paper into their hands, my scribbled message barely legible: “Please help! My mother killed my father.”

The hours that followed were a blur of flashing lights and frantic voices. I sat on the front steps, my body trembling, watching as the police led my mother away in handcuffs. Her face was a twisted mix of rage and despair, but all I felt was a hollow emptiness inside.

I could hear the adults murmuring around me, throwing around words like ‘traumatized,’ ‘orphaned,’ and ‘custody.’ They sounded distant, like voices underwater, far away from the crushing weight of reality that had settled over me.

A kind-faced officer knelt beside me, his voice gentle. “We need to take you somewhere safe, Venneca.”

I nodded numbly, my gaze locked on the bloodstained floor where my father had taken his last breath. The only lesson I had learned that day was that life could be snatched away in an instant.

. . .

The drive to my aunt’s house felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. The world outside the window blurred into a mess of lights and shadows, my thoughts consumed by the terrifying images of my mother’s rage and my father’s lifeless body.

When we arrived, my aunt greeted me with a look of irritation. “Come in,” she said flatly, making no effort to hide her annoyance.

The house was cold, devoid of any warmth or comfort. That night, I lay in a foreign bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind replaying the night’s events over and over. My tears soaked the pillow as I clung to the memories of a family that no longer existed.

Everything I knew was gone, replaced by a crushing emptiness and a fear that gnawed at me day and night. I was truly alone.

. . .

Living with my aunt was hell. She made it clear every day that I was nothing more than a burden. I woke up before dawn to the sound of her harsh commands, her voice filled with venom. “Get up, you lazy girl! The house isn’t going to clean itself!”

I spent every day scrubbing floors and washing dishes until my hands were raw, but it was the emotional wounds that hurt the most. Each cruel word, each punishment, cut deeper than any chore could.

“You’re useless,” she would sneer. “No one will ever love a worthless girl like you.”

But it wasn’t just the insults that broke me. As I grew older, my aunt’s cruelty escalated to unimaginable levels. She began bringing strange men into the house, men who paid for the privilege of abusing me.

They treated me like an object—something to be used, broken, and thrown away. The touch of their hands, the leering looks, the degrading words—they were constant reminders of my powerlessness, trapping me in a world of fear.

I went to school every day, but it was only a temporary escape. I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact, drifting through the halls like a ghost. I was too afraid to speak, too broken to connect with anyone. The whispers of my classmates haunted me, their eyes filled with questions I could never answer.

I didn’t have friends, only acquaintances who sensed my pain but couldn’t understand it. And I was too ashamed to tell them.

At night, I lay awake, the silence pressing down on me as I relived every nightmare, every violation, every scream that never left my lips. But somehow, I kept surviving.

One day, I was invited to a birthday party—a rare break from my bleak reality. Reluctantly, I went, the weight of my aunt’s threats heavy on my mind.

The party was noisy and bright, a sharp contrast to the suffocating darkness I had grown used to. I tried to stay in the background, but fate had other plans.

“Come on, Venneca, join us!” one of the girls called, holding up a Ouija board with a playful grin. I hesitated but eventually sat with them, my fingers trembling as I touched the planchette.

The atmosphere shifted. The candles flickered, the air grew cold, and the laughter died down. Suddenly, a dark figure materialized in the center of the circle, its eyes glowing with an unholy light.

“Who dares summon me?” the creature growled, its voice deep and menacing.

Chaos erupted. Screams filled the air as the figure advanced, its monstrous form towering over us. I was frozen in place, unable to move, as its eyes locked onto mine.

The creature’s form flickered between a terrifying werewolf and a dark, demonic entity, each shift more horrifying than the last. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath catching in my throat.

“What are you?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

The creature smirked, its eyes burning with a malevolent glow. “You summoned me, mortal. But what for?”

Panic surged through me. I had never believed in the supernatural, but now it was staring me in the face. “Why me? I wasn’t the only one who summoned you—” I began, but the creature cut me off.

It leaned closer, its voice dripping with cruel amusement. “Because you have darkness within you, Venneca. You’ve seen the worst this world has to offer. And now, you will see even more.”

Terror paralyzed me, but I couldn’t look away. The creature reached out, its clawed hand hovering near my face. “You will come with me,” it said, its voice echoing with a sinister promise. “And you will witness horrors beyond your imagination.”

Before I could react, the world around me dissolved into shadows. The last thing I saw was the creature’s glowing eyes, and then—nothing.

. . .

When I awoke, I was no longer in the house. I was somewhere else, a twisted landscape of shadows and eerie light. The creature was there, fully transformed into its demonic form, looking down at me with a wicked smile.

“Welcome to your new home,” it said. “The underworld.”

Dread settled in my chest as I realized there was no escape. I was trapped in a nightmare beyond anything I had ever known.

“Follow me,” it commanded, its voice dripping with dark authority.

I had no choice but to obey. The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, but one thing was clear: my journey had only just begun.

Yet even in this place of horrors, a small spark of defiance still burned within me. No matter what came next, I would survive.

. . .