After ending the call with Eric, Alexander let the phone drop to the nearby table, his fingers still loosely gripping the cold metal of the gun resting on his thigh. The silence that followed was suffocating.
Across the room, Agnes sat curled up on the floor, her knees drawn tightly to her chest, her face pale and tear-streaked. She looked like a tortured kitten small, trembling, and utterly helpless under the weight of his cold, unblinking stare.
"You're far more well-behaved than I expected," Alexander said, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His voice was calm, amused even, but laced with a venom that made her insides twist. "Pity. I thought you'd be more entertaining."
Agnes flinched, her eyes snapping up to meet his. His chuckle low and devoid of warmth made her skin crawl.
"Who... who are you?" she asked, her voice a fragile whisper.
