Claimed by The Rogue Alpha
Claimed By The Rogue Alpha Chapter 65

=Matteo==

Work work work work. That had been my mantra for the past week. That was all I thought of. Consequently, there were no rooms for wishful thoughts, forbidden desires and of course the nightmares. What's more, my other self had gone on a long vacation-if not died. My mind was basically refreshed.

However, something wrestled to remain stuck. Olivia and the thoughts she brought. Contrary to what one might believe, I hadn't been as lovestruck as I used to. Wait, did I just admit to... F**k, shut up. Anyways, I wasn't all engrossed in her as I used to. I had gained control of my emotions, only letting thoughts about her seep in whenever I wanted such.

We both hadn't seen each other since Dr. Joelle came-making it five days of non communication. I was cool with it now. I know so. I'd been frustrated with her not showing up for meals, but I'd come to realise that that was in fact in my favour. The girl just had something about her. I mean, I could summon her and she'd decide to clad in some tiny piece, or nothing at all. This was a psycho I was dealing with. So, yes, it was good she remained in her room. It was good I'd never got to see her.

I pulled away from the window pane, glancing at the wall clock. 5:26 said the time and it was bright as noon outside. Well, that was summer for you.

Another day to get things done at the office, huh. Or was it? These past days spent at the office had really set the ball rolling on a lot of projects. But that wasn't to say there weren't any outstanding deals to seal or contracts to sign. The thing was, well...not much needed to be done on my part. And it upset me because I saw working as an avenue to escape this suffocating walls. I never thought I'd talk about the mansion in such light, but here I was. I left for work as early as 6, and come home by 10 or 11 'cause my once beloved abode now was a stranger.

I shrugged off my bathrobe. As I moved toward the shower, my eyes fell on my mirror reflection. I halted my steps, eyes on the shadow covering my jaw. To think that for the past few days I'd been walking around with this dent on my face was absolutely terrifying. Worse still, the stubbles left me looking haggard. I picked up a razor and a cream. A minute later, I was clean. I then went to have my shower.

Today, I decided to go with a loose polo shirt and jeans. And for shoes, yeah, not sure I'd be putting on one either. My feet needed to breath. Besides, Fridays are for casuals. So, rather than brogues or oxfords, sandals did it for me.

I stopped at the mirror in the closet to take one final look. Everything was okay, perfect. Although, I looked different without the usual application of jell and with my hair falling down in waves. Again, it wasn't that bad. Not bad at all. I simply ran my fingers across to even it out. And I was good to go. I clasped on my watch and grabbed my satchel.

I got to the living room. Yosef was standing by the door. He had on that look that made me think, now what?

"Good morning, sir." I walked past him, but cut soon cut my steps to turn back to him.

"Is there any law that forbids dressing casual to work?"

His eyes narrowed in confusion, but it wasn't long before he cottoned on. "No, sir. I'm sorry if I gave off that energy." I turned to leave but he spoke up, "But I don't think it's right to leave now."

I stared at him, and he knew he should keep the explanation coming.

"A curfew has been called in Fridgeton."

"Was there a turnaround this morning?"

"Sir?"

"Yeah, answer that. Was there?"

He pinned his lips briefly. "No." His reply read more like a question."

"And no enchantment of any sort?"

"No enchantment." I liked that he answered with no clue of where the dialogue was heading.

"This is Brookehurt, right. Well, far west, but still in the confines, is that right?"

"Yes." I couldn't tell if he got the message or not. I didn't spare him any more glances.

The morning sun shone bright. It was blazing, almost. I got into the backseat and the driver started the ignition. Three minutes into our drive, my phone beeped. It was a call from Yosef.

I picked it, but couldn't hear him clearly. I winced as the noise impinged greatly on my eardrums. The f**k.

"Yosef? Can you hear me?" Of course, he couldn't. Not wanting to incur any harm on my ears, I killed the line, going on to wonder what the issue could be.

The call came again and I picked it up.

"Yosef. Can you hear me now?"

The line continued to crack, but I could make out his voice. "Sir....go." That was what I picked.

"Hello? Yo-" The line died. What in the world? I went on to try his number again. It didn't go through. What's going on? Then, my mind went back to what he'd said this morning. The curfew. "Was there really a curfew called?" I asked the driver.

"Yes, sir. In Fridgeton."

"When was that?"

"Sometime around 10pm, last night."

I had been in the office at that time. How come I didn't hear such news? A frown was sat on my face. However, I decided not to get all worked up about the situation. This wasn't Fridgeton after all.

I planned on placing a call home once I got to the office. And God help Josef if what he had to say wasn't an emergency.

We made it past the grove and arrived at the highway. The West-Central Brookehurt highway wasn't particularly a busy one. But there was something of about it now. I could count the number of vehicles that'd passed by since we got here, or could I? I wasn't even sure I'd seen any.

Was it the curfew? I shook my head. That couldn't be right. It had been called in Fridgeton not Brookehurt. But then, I had to remind myself that Fridgetoners regularly plied this road. Therefore, the curfew stood as a very plausible reason behind the deadness here. When we got to town, my suspicion was confirmed, although not in the manner which I bore witness to. The town had been torn apart. Ripped, raided, destroyed. People were throwing punches, clubbing and rendering all manner of assaults on one another. A good number of buildings were set ablaze, throwing out a thick cloud of smoke. My driver didn't need to be told to kill the engine.

"Wait here. But if it gets messy, leave immediately," I said before stepping out of the car. Everywhere smelt of disarray. This couldn't be real. This form of chaos only happened in dystopian movies. Not real life!

I began walking, taking care not to step on glass or to attract anyone. I was able to maneouvre my way through. The office was about a quarter mile ahead. Now, judging from how horrible this place was, alarm bells blew off-blasting in my head. No.... No, I shouldn't have that thought. I wouldn't let it creep in.

I kept walking and just then, someone dashed over to me. I was quick to sense him. I turned around and held his hand, preventing him from smashing a baseball bat on my head. I punched him square in the face, making him take a step back. I didn't wait for him to get back on his feet. Instead, I took off running.

My instincts told me to look behind. I did. There three guys chasing after me. The guy I'd punched earlier and two other persons. I ignored them and continued skipping off. I soon got to Allen Way, the city's business hub. Abrupt end came my run. My jaw dropped from the shock that hit me. Everything had been vandalised.

I trailed my gaze from what used to be Cartier store to the unrecognisable structure of Ulta. The three guys were advancing, and my legs hoofed off, even without the signal from my brain. All the while, I prayed that Vintage was safe. It got to safe. It had to be safe. My heart drummed. So loud, it came as a surprise I hadn't passed out yet. Please, not Vintage. Please.

I reached and gradually came to a stop. Just in time for my heart to burst open. No...

I stood, without sense of time...or any sense at all. Because there was no way in hell what I saw was real. No f*****g way that Vintage was a heap of flaming trash.