Whose Heart Do You Haunt -
Under the cover of night, the grand hall was eerily silent.
"Who dares to come here without fear of death!" a male voice echoed darkly, as if it could cut through the very air.
The words had barely left his lips when a forceful grip seized Bellas wrists, pinning them behind her back. The impact caused her to stifle a grunt of pain.
Suddenly, the crystal chandelier blazed to life, its brilliance blinding.
Her body tensed, her heart pounded with such ferocity that it felt as if it might burst from her chest.
Bella was well aware that this manor was the cherished love nest of Mason and his wife, Alison; he never allowed any outsiders to enter, let alone someone with ill intentions like herself.
Masons eyes, brimming with murderous intent, widened in shock as he took in Bellas face.
This face! This face!
It was like a parched land finally receiving rain, his pupils reflecting a seismic shift, urgently, even with tears welling up.
His hand trembled as he reached out, as if to touch her, yet fearing that she was but an illusion, one that would shatter at the slightest touch, just like in his midnight dreams.
Bella was moved by this gaze, her heart aching as if pierced by a needle.
This feeling had returned, unexplained.
Before embarking on her mission, she had spent considerable time investigating this man, and even from photographs, the suffocating heartache would engulf her.
Then, she was enveloped in a scorching embrace.
His form still quivered slightly, yet held her with extraordinary strength, his words incoherent after a burst of joy.
"Alison, is it you who has returned? I knew you would come back; how could you bear to leave me alone!"
She passively endured Masons embrace, but when she heard his words, her heart skipped a beat, a wave of bitterness washing over her.
She knew she wasnt, wasnt Alison, not the one Mason held and called out to!
Bella remembered her mission, the promises that man had made to her.
From her sleeve, she slid out the small knife she had hidden, which unexpectedly glinted under the crystal chandeliers light.
Mason snapped back to reality; this person wasnt his Alison, who had died three years ago!
His movements were incredibly swift; before Bella could raise her knife, it was disarmed, and in a flash, the blade was pressed against her neck.
The warmth from moments before was gone, replaced by Masons all-encompassing fury, an oppressive weight that seemed to suffocate.
"Who made you get this face?"
It seemed that at the slightest mistake, the knife would slit her throat.
Bellas heart was taut, unsure whether it was from his sudden change in demeanor or the murderous words.
She defiantly said, "I was born this way."
As soon as she finished speaking, she felt a sting on her neck, and viscous blood slowly trickled down.
The next second, Bellas knee throbbed with pain, and she buckled to the ground as if all her strength had been drained.
"I think youre tired of living!"
The force was so great that Bella could hardly catch her breath, yet she bit her lip, refusing to make a sound.
Mason, however, did not move for a long while, his cold hand suddenly caressing her furrowed brow.
"This stubborn expression is exactly the same."
His voice seemed to come from a distant land, somewhat ethereal.
"Alison, I often feel that you are still alive, but why dont you come to see me?"
As if speaking to himself, his eyes were a vacant with tears glistening at the corners of his eyes.
Bellas heart felt as if it had been hit hard, an inexplicable pull causing her to slowly reach for his face.
A trembling hand, a cold face, scorching tears, heavy breaths.
Masons body stiffened, his expression instantly dark.
After about three seconds of silence, he laughed to himself, his tone as cold as if it had been chilled with ice.
"Since you dare to come here with this face, you should have known what the consequences would be!"