Her palms were sweaty as she paced back in forth in her large and tidy bedroom. Her phone sat on a wooden bedside table. It was inactive, and she was thankful for that though it only increased the anxiety of what was coming. She pushed away her unmade sheets and sat on her bed. Staring at the blank screen. Ciro’s secrecy had gone away in an instant. All it took was the posting of the video and a description of what was happening. It’s hard not to believe after that. It was far too real to be special effects, and most people wanted to believe. Even the skeptics couldn’t calm down the large amount of people who did believe. She turned on her phone and looked through the post again. The video was only a portion of their night, though enough. She scrolled down and looked at the visual description describing him, “Curly ear length black hair, pale skin with a hint of gray, and dark brown eyes,”. It was all accurate, no one could look at him and deny he fit that. Cecilia sat on her bed. She couldn’t waste her thoughts with worry. Right now, she had to think of a way to get both herself and him out of this. Just some time to think.

RING! RING! RING! Her phone went off on the bedside table. Less time than she thought. She picked it up as though it was some kind of dead animal, holding it by a corner with only her index finger and thumb, and let it ring a few more times before finally answering. She held it a few inches from her ear. “H-hello?”. She said lightly.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” Ciro screamed. She quickly held the phone further away from her ear at the yelling, then as he calmed down, brought it closer, “You were filming last night?”

“I wasn’t! My father was! He put security cameras all over the place without telling me! I didn’t know about any of it. And even if I did, it wasn’t supposed to get out like this! It- it was a maid, she saw it and quit and stole the footage and well, now we’re here…”

“And you just- you just let all that happen?!”

“I couldn’t do anything! She saw you and had the footage. I tried to talk her out of it, I really did, but she wouldn’t listen. She thinks this is gonna make her a fortune!”

“It will if I get caught!” he screamed, “All you did was try to -talk- her out of it?”

“Yes! I thought I was very convincing!”

“Well, thinking you are very convincing didn’t do anything! You could’ve tackled her, knocked her out or something, anything to prevent this! Do you even know what this means for me?! Half the country’s looking for me dead or alive! There’s even the description… These people know what I look like better than I do!”

“Okay, okay, just calm down, alright? I’ll go over there and we can plan; figure out what to do about all this,”

“No, don’t. What if they follow you? I’ll just… There’s really only one thing I can do and that’s leave. I have to go. I’m sorry. Tell no one of this. Goodbye,” he said formally.

“Wait, where are yo-” Click. He was gone, and she would never see him again. No, it was day time. She had a chance, and she would not let it pass by.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Knock, knock, knock! The sound of frantic banging on his door jolted Ciro awake. He was found. This was the end for him. He would probably be tortured and killed and then killed again after that and then experimented on while he was alive until it killed him… Knock! Knock! Knock! A fist banging on the door came again and would not be ignored. Sweat was dripping down his forehead and his thoughts were going in a thousand places. How many ways could he die? He had only moments left to survive… what would his last words be?! He didn’t have enough time to think of something cool. He could see it now… his gravestone, alone in a graveyard and displaying his last words, “Ah, don’t kill me!”. 400 years and he still fails so pathetically.

“Open up,” a familiar voice screamed.

He quickly opened up the door, grabbed her arm, pulled her into the room then shut it behind her. “Cecilia, I told you not to come!” he walked to the window, then turned back in defeat, “Check outside, were you followed?”

“No, I wouldn’t be so careless,”

He stared down at her with annoyance furrowing his brows. “You already were,” he sighed, “and you don’t listen,”

“I said, I’m sorry!” she screamed, “but now, now we have time to plan,”

Suddenly, there was another knocking on the door. The two of them turned to the sound. Ciro cursed and ran into the bathroom, “Tell them there’s no one here!” he screamed, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Cecilia sighed and took slow, quiet steps to the door. She waited a few seconds, her hand resting on the doorknob before opening it. She let out a deep sigh and twisted the golden knob, opening the door. She only opened it a crack, but before she knew it, the door was wide open and four girls were jamming their way inside. She stepped back, taking in what was happening. All four of them were maids from her own household. In the center, was Rosilda, the ringleader, and the source of the problem. Behind her, were three others, two were vaguely familiar faces, though she was shocked to find Elia, one of her closest friends. “Elia…” she whimpered, “I thought we were…”

“Friends?” she snorted, “My only friend is money. It’s a tough economy we live in, and there’s little I wouldn’t do to stop hearing you talk to me about nothing everyday,”

Rosilda laughed, a cruel cackle, adding insult to injury. “Now let’s stop with the games. Cecilia, hand him over,” she ordered. This angered Cecilia, no one- no maid- was supposed to order her.

“Th-there’s no one here!” she stuttered. Hoping they would believe the obvious mistruth.

Rosilda laughed again, “Novella, Teresa, search the house,” she ordered, and the two girls on either far side immediately walked around the scene and started searching all around the house. Rosilda stayed in place, unmoving, simply staring at Cecilia, looking down at her with a smug grin on her face. Cecilia was frozen in place, unsure of what to do. She only knew one thing. All of this, every single bit, was her fault. Guilt overwhelmed her. She felt like doing nothing more than crawling in a ball on the floor and weeping. She hardly even heard when one of the extras alerted the others to the locked bathroom. She felt so detached from her senses, she couldn’t move when she heard the faint clicks of a lock being picked. She was, at this moment, a shell of herself, entirely overwhelmed with painfully negative emotions.

Suddenly, she was shaken out of her overpowering guilt, literally. “Come on, where is he?” Elia asked as Teresa and Novella shook her.

“H-he’s not in the bathroom?” Cecilia inquired thoughtlessly.

“Don’t play dumb,” Rosilda spat. Cecilia ignored her, breaking free of the other’s grasps and stomping to the bathroom. She walked through the forcefully opened door, and looked around, it was as it always was, even the window was closed, making it seem unlikely he ran out, but what other choice did he have? The bathroom was small, and almost entirely white or pale shades, the only exception being the forest green, thick shower curtain. The shower curtain that wasn’t there. Cecilia smiled. The sheet was opaque, but she wasn’t certain of its sun blocking capabilities. She looked out the window, and upon seeing no piles of ashes, assumed it worked well enough. She stepped outside the bathroom, and all four girls were standing around her, confusion riddled on all their faces.

“He’s gone,” Cecilia gloated, “He’s gone and you’ll never find him,”