Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption novel Chapter 406

Chapter 406: Sylas Trauma

~Louis Mansion~

The mansion was unusually quiet. Maids and servants tiptoed about their duties, careful not to draw attention, and even the butler carried himself with unease.

Every corner of the house screamed of tension and caution. No one wanted to step into the limelight and risk being lambasted by the furiously unstable Sylas.

The past four days had left them with terrible memories of night times.

Unlike those nights that had Sylas sitting in the sitting room watching TV, going through the news and sometimes making business calls; night time was now riddled with fear and trepidation, weaving the house into tension.

Some of the staff had also resigned with the changes that had left the house feeling as though they had been plunged into the scariest haunted house.

Worst was the fact that the dominant, cold and powerful Sylas Louis had gradually become a shadow of himself, he now teetered on the fine thin line of sanity and insanity.

At one point he was calm and the next you found him mumbling nonstop and incoherently to himself... sometimes in a low soft voice, at other times he would be screaming.

At some point, he ran out of his bedroom as though pursued by ghosts and at other times he cowered beside the foot of the bed or the sofa in the living room.

There were nights he fell to his knees, kowtowing, muttering apologies while sweating profusely.

But if anyone dared to and possibly tapped him, the haze would suddenly clear, and he would see himself in an undignified and embarrassing state.

Ashamed and enraged, he would storm back to his room or fire the unlucky witness on the spot. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Worse than his erratic behavior were the voices. The Incoherent, inconsistent, relentless voices that seemed to follow him everywhere; sometimes in soft whispers, sometimes chuckles, sometimes eerie laughter.

No matter their tone, they pushed him closer to the edge of insanity.

They mocked him for his evil. They replayed his past conversations, twisting them, taunting him until he dared not close his eyes. Sleep became impossible.

Several times, Sylas asked the butler if he heard them too. The man always shook his head, with a shrug he would tell him "No"

After so many repeats, Sylas drew his own conclusion of the condition. With him being the only person seeing and hearing the voices, he was definitely hallucinating.

But that knowledge offered no relief. The torment only grew heavier with psychological torture that gnawed at his mind and body.

It resembled PTSD, though Sylas would never dare to speak the word aloud.

Dusk became his greatest enemy. Each time the sun sank into the horizon and darkness spread, his body tensed instinctively.

A slow, suffocating dread crept into his chest, fear clawed at his bones, he had even thought of relocating to a hotel but still waved it off.

To put it mildly, his night time had totally taken a different turn... moving from the peaceful night rest to a fierce life of battles with ghosts...wars fought not against flesh, but against the ghosts within his heart.

And by morning he would be left utterly drained, frustrated and his eyes bloodshot.

To curb the menace threatening to drive him to madness, he had instructed his subordinate to get into contact with a renowned psychologist, Dr. Frederick Hughes and possibly book an appointment with him.

Now, Sylas sat in the living room, his face unnervingly calm, his bloodshot eyes proof of sleepless nights. On the side table lay a half-empty bottle of wine and a glass.

His subordinate stood stiffly just a few feet away from him. His gaze on Sylas probing.

With slow, deliberate and measured movement, Sylas picked up the glass of wine and took a sip. His gaze was hollow and unfocused as though he was just going through the motion.

His subordinate’s gaze lingered on his face for a brief while he studied him. He quietly took in the sight of the once proud and cold dominant boss now riddled and crushed by exhaustion and frustration.

His mind couldn’t help but wander away with questions swirling deep.

What has gone wrong? the subordinate wondered.

Has the boss really gone insane?

Wouldn’t it have been wiser to seek a psychiatrist rather than a psychologist?

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