Claiming Brielle

TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains violence, abuse, dubious consent, stalking, murder, alcohol and drug use, bondage, and other scenes that may be triggering to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

Four Years Earlier

[Brielle's POV]

"We're here!"

The shrill announcement breaks through my light doze, causing my already pounding head to hurt worse.

"F*ck," I hiss, snapping open my eyes to take in the brightly lit house ahead of me. "Son of a..."

All the lights could only mean one thing. My parents were awake, and they were waiting for me.

"Good luck, chick," Anastasia giggled. "Don't make it too obvious how wasted you are."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I growled, reaching into the backseat and fumbling for my leather jacket.

"Naughty girls should expect punishment."

Naughty… I wasn't a f*ck*ng child throwing a temper tantrum. I was seventeen and just so happened to sneak out to go to Anastasia's birthday party. Who told my parents to be so d*mn overbearing and refuse to allow me to attend?

Anyway, she drank just as much as me! How was she still so sober? The girl could drink like a fish and would still be fine.

Sighing, I unbuckled my seatbelt and then shoved open my door and stumbled out.

"Careful!" Anastasia called as I worked to right my footing. "You really are horrible at holding your liquor."

"F*ck you too," I snapped, slamming the door shut. "See you tomorrow, if I'm not killed first."

As I spoke, I took in the house again and found myself wondering if I should just go back to Anastasia's house for the night. I knew what was waiting for me there, and with my head pounding and spinning the way it was, I really didn't want to deal.

Sighing, I looked back at the car as it began to move, spinning out of the drive, knowing that my chance at that was ruined.

"No use putting it off," I muttered, beginning to move. "Just get it over with."

When I reached the front door, I began to dig in my purse for my keys. However, before I can find them, the door opens, and I'm met by someone dressed in all black with a mask covering their face.

At first, I wasn't quite sure what I was looking at and wondered if maybe I'm hallucinating from just how much I had drunk, but when they reached out and grabbed me and throw me into the house, I knew I'm not.

Gasping, I crashed into the floor, causing shards of glass from a broken lamp that laid nearby to cut into the flesh of my hands and knees, sending waves of pain through me.

"Help!" I shrieked, scrambling to my feet. "MOM! DAD!"

As the words left my lips, I beelined for the stairs, determined to find my parents and have them save me from the one who was out to kill me.

Behind me, I could hear footsteps, but I didn't dare look back. They grew closer and closer with each step I took until my hair is being grabbed and I'm being yanked backwards.

A shriek escaped me as I was thrown against an end table, shattering it on impact.

"Please!" I cried, ignoring the pain in my chest from where I hit, "Mom! Dad! Help me!"

"They can't help you," a gruff, muffled voice cackled. "They're already dead."

Dead… No! He had to be lying. There was no way that was possible! I wouldn't believe it!

"MOM! DAD! PLEASE HELP BEFORE HE KILLS ME!"

Tears began to prick in my eyes, and my ears began to ring as I scrambled forward, grabbing at a piece of the broken lamp right as my attacker came after me again.

Letting out a scream, I lashed out, connecting my makeshift weapon with his face and earning myself a snarl of rage.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, I got up and rushed upstairs, beelining straight for my parents room and then stumbling inside.

“Mom! Dad!” I gasped, reaching their bed and tugging at the blanket. “Please! Get up! You have to…”

The rest of my words get stuck in my throat as I took in the bodies on the bed and felt bile beginning to rise.

Blood… There was so much blood that I couldn’t tell where exactly it was coming from, but one thing was certain: it belonged to my parents.

Feeling sick, I took in their lifeless faces and their terrified expressions that stared blankly up at nothing. A little further down, their necks are sliced, and if I looked too closely, I was sure what muscle and bone were showing.

Both their torsos are shredded to pieces, to the point where it is hard to tell where one wound begins and the other ends. It's gruesome and horrible, and I felt like I was going to puke while trying to make sense of why this is happening.

“No!” I whimpered, backing away slowly while I tried to make sense of the reality in front of me and keep everything I ate and drank down. “No, please, mom and dad, you can’t be…”

As the words left my lips, the door behind me opened, and I was being grabbed again and dragged down the hall, then the stairs, until I was flung on the couch.

“NO!” I screamed, beginning to kick and flail. “PLEASE DON’T!”

I watched in horror as the person grabbed my arms and pinned them down while he began to climb on top of me.

“Please,” I repeated, beginning to hyperventilate. “Please don’t! I’ll do whatever you want; please just don’t…”

“Shut up!” He snarled, slamming his head into mine and wrapping a hand around my throat. “Just be good, it will all be over soon.”

Spots exploded in front of my eyes, and pain shot through me before the world began to fade in and out while I desperately tried to remain conscious.

“N-no,” I stammered, weakly fighting against him as he began to tug at my clothes. “S-stop!”

My voice was weak, and I knew that I was going to pass out soon, but I bit down hard on my bottom lip, trying my hardest to hang in there until finally there is the sound of a gunshot, followed by inaudible shouting, and before the world finally fades, I got a glimpse of a handsome face with striking blue eyes and shaggy dark hair that scattered about chiseled cheekbones.

“You’re okay,” a warm, soothing voice murmured, “It’s all going to be okay.”

After that, I faded in and out as I felt myself being lifted and placed on a stretcher. Then I was loaded into an ambulance, and the world disappeared.

When it started to come back, the steady beeping of a machine is the first thing to reach me, followed by immense pain that radiated from the top of my head down to my toes.

Wincing, I pried one of my eyes open to find that I was in the hospital, and a nurse hovered over me, taking my vitals.

“Oh goodness,” she gasped, taking me in. “Did I wake you, dear?”

“Where?” I rasped, realizing that my throat was extremely parched and sore. “Is this?”

As I spoke, I attempted to sit up, only to be stopped by the nurse.

“Careful!” she warned, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t make any sudden movements, sweetheart.”

“But my parents,” I managed, beginning to fight against her. “Where are my parents?”

For a moment, she didn't speak as she took me in with a look of pity while the events leading up to my being here began to appear.

“No!” I squeaked, my heart squeezing painfully. “No, tell me they’re okay!” I begged, reaching out and grabbing the nurse's shirt. “Please tell me my parents are okay!”

“I’m so sorry,” she said gently, prying my hands off. “They were already gone by the time help arrived.”

Gone… My parents were gone. They were taken from me by the psycho who tried to kill me. But why? What did they do so wrong for someone to want to kill them? It didn’t make sense!

My head began to spin as the sickening realization of what had happened in the span of a night hit me, and just as I feel like I’m going to crash into a never-ending abyss, a knock sounded at my door.

Remaining silent, I watched as the nurse went to answer it, but when she opens it, no one was there.

“Odd,” she murmured, taking in something that is on the floor. Leaning down, she picked up whatever it was and took it in for a moment before turning and taking me in. “I think this is yours,” she said slowly, bringing me what I can now see is a phone. “Maybe one of the officers dropped it off.”

Furrowing my brows, I reached out and took the phone from the nurse, then took in the screen, which had a new message flashing on it.

Not sure of what was happening, I clicked the open box and then took in a single message.

By your parents' wishes, I will be the one taking care of you from this point on, but due to certain circumstances, I am unable to reveal my identity. Please know that a lawyer will go over all of this with you at a later date. Until then, you will be sent to a safe house where everything you need will be provided for you by a few faithful servants.

My sincere apologies for your loss.

L.

“L,” I whispered, unsure of what I’m seeing. “Who could he possibly be?”

4 Years Later

[Brielle's POV]

L: Good morning, little songbird. I hope you slept well. Do know that I'll be routing for you to land that audition today, though I know you'll do splendidly.

My driver will be waiting out front to take you to and from your audition today. Don't you dare attempt to go on your own.

L.

I stared at the message, taking in its words again and again as a comforting warmth seeped through me.

This was basically the norm since L came into my life, but up until this day, four years later, I had yet to actually meet him face-to-face, but despite that, he became the person I cared for the most in the world.

After my parents' deaths, L contacted me regularly and even rented me a small apartment to live in while I got my life back together, finished school, and even went to co