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Chapter 132: Chapter 132 Night Crawler II
Vanessa came down the stairs slowly, her bare feet making the softest sounds on the polished wood. She had changed into a long, white gown—light, flowing, and elegant. The fabric hugged her curves softly before falling around her legs like water. Her police uniform was gone, replaced now by something gentler, more vulnerable. Her ponytail had been undone, and her golden-blonde hair cascaded freely down her back in soft, glossy waves.
Liam looked up—and for a second, he didn’t say a word.
He just watched her.
The faint glow from the chandelier caught the delicate strands of her hair, the pale fabric of her gown making her look almost ethereal. It was a look that didn’t belong in this world—like something out of a dream.
"Damn..." Liam said with a smirk as his eyes drank her in. "You really shouldn’t walk around looking like that. Someone might fall in love by accident."
Vanessa froze mid-step, her cheeks instantly flooding red.
"I-I... I was just... I’ll show you to your room," she stammered, clutching the edge of her gown like it might shield her from his gaze. Her voice had lost that calm, collected edge. Now it was soft—nervous.
He smiled, amused, but said nothing else as he followed her up the stairs.
She led him through a quiet hallway and pushed open a door near the end. The room inside was smaller than the guest room he had been patched up in before, but still luxurious.
The walls were a warm ivory, accented by dark oak furniture. A queen-sized bed rested near a large window, the covers neatly folded. A single, tall mirror stood in the corner, catching faint moonlight. A soft beige rug spread beneath his feet, and the faint smell of jasmine lingered in the air.
It was quiet. Peaceful.
"Thanks," Liam said as he stepped inside.
Vanessa nodded, already turning away.
But before she could leave, Liam spoke again—his voice low and smooth.
"Wait."
She paused.
When she turned, Liam was walking toward her—slowly, purposefully.
His steps were measured, calm, but they carried something else... something that made her heart suddenly beat faster.
Vanessa instinctively took a step back.
Then another.
Her back hit the wall behind her with a soft thud, and she held her breath without realizing it.
Liam stopped just a few inches away.
She could smell him now—fresh, clean, with a hint of something wild underneath. His gaze locked onto hers, deep blue eyes sharp yet unreadable.
She didn’t know why he was coming closer, but her body refused to move. She felt heat blooming in her chest, spreading to her cheeks, her stomach fluttering wildly.
His hand moved slowly, brushing the side of her hair.
"You’ve got something in your hair," he said softly.
She blinked, confused, but then he showed her—a tiny black thread caught in one of her golden strands. But she wasn’t looking at the thread. She wasn’t even looking at his hand.
Her eyes had fallen to his lips.
She swallowed.
Liam lowered his hand, but his fingers gently brushed hers as he did. The touch was light—barely even there—but it sent a shiver down her spine.
And before she could stop herself—before she could even think—
She kissed him.
It was quick. Desperate. Soft.
Her lips pressed against his, warm and trembling. Liam didn’t even have time to react—his eyes widened slightly as she leaned in, her breath mingling with his.
Her lips were blissfully soft. Silky and warm, like velvet brushed against satin. There was a hesitation in the way she kissed him, as if she wasn’t sure if she should... but the feeling, the raw sensation of it, made Liam close his eyes for just a moment.
Then—just as quickly—it was over.
Vanessa pulled away like she’d touched fire, eyes wide with shock. Her face turned crimson as she gasped and turned away, nearly stumbling out the door.
Liam stood there, watching her disappear down the hall.
He heard her door open.
Then slam shut.
He waited a few seconds before breathing out slowly, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Of course, everything he’d done had been on purpose.
He knew Vanessa was teetering on the edge—and he had pushed her, gently, carefully, knowing that she would fall. That kiss, as brief as it was, would keep her busy. Embarrassed. Confused.
She wouldn’t be leaving her room tonight.
Which meant he had enough time to get things done.
He turned to the window and pushed it open. Cool night air washed over him, brushing against his skin and clearing his thoughts.
Outside, the world was calm. Quiet. But Liam’s heart beat with purpose.
He stepped up onto the windowsill.
The moon hung overhead, casting silver light across the yard.
Then—with one smooth motion—he jumped.
For a moment, it felt like he was flying.
His body moved like a shadow, silent and fast, and he landed with perfect grace, knees bending slightly to absorb the impact. No sound. No stumble.
He straightened up slowly, blue eyes flicking toward the dark horizon.
---
The flashing neon lights of the club painted the sidewalk in hues of red and purple as Kyle stumbled out with a girl on each arm. His laughter was loud and obnoxious, slurred from the alcohol swimming in his system. If it weren’t for the two women supporting him, he would’ve collapsed already. His legs were jelly, and every step he took was a fight against gravity.
The three of them barely made it past the entrance when a soft tap landed on both women’s shoulders from behind.
They turned, confused—expecting maybe a bouncer or some drunken admirer.
Instead, they found a tall man standing silently. White hair. A black cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face, obscuring everything but his eyes.
They didn’t even have time to speak.
Two swift thuds echoed like drumbeats.
The women dropped instantly, their eyes rolling back as they hit the pavement, unconscious.
Kyle barely reacted in time before a strong arm grabbed him by the collar and yanked him into the nearest alley.
"Hey—what the hell—!" he slurred, struggling weakly.
The man dragged him deeper into the shadows, into a narrow alleyway that reeked of rot and smoke. Kyle stumbled and hit the wall with a grunt, leaning heavily on a dumpster to steady himself.
Then the figure stopped.
He reached up slowly and pulled off the white wig.
Then he unwrapped the cloth from his face.
Kyle’s blurred eyes took a moment to focus. But once they did, he froze.
"...You," he hissed, voice low and shaky.
Even drunk, even dizzy, he recognized that face. Those sharp, cold eyes. That jawline he hated so damn much.
"You fucker," Kyle growled, clenching the edge of the dumpster with trembling fingers. "You came for more beating? You stupid shit—you must have a death wish."
Liam said nothing at first. He simply stared at him. Calm. Unblinking.
The silence was more terrifying than any threat.
Kyle tried to straighten up, almost falling as he gripped the metal bin harder.
Liam finally spoke, his voice quiet and even.
"You already signed your death certificate the day you and your goons caused me to be ran over and left me to bleed in the street."
Kyle chuckled, spitting on the ground. "Yeah? I should’ve made sure you stayed dead."
Liam’s expression didn’t change. "I gave you more time. You fumbled it. You threatened me again."
Kyle laughed. A wild, reckless sound.
"You think you can kill me?" he slurred, waving his arms. "This idiot thinks he can kill me. Look at you—little bitch boy playing gangster. You’re nothing."
His eyes gleamed with crazed drunken rage.
"Run back to your dead mama, asshole," he snarled. "Before I hang you with your dick stuffed in your mouth."
Liam blinked slowly, then sighed.
"You haven’t changed," he muttered.
Then, he reached down and picked up a rusted iron pipe lying near the dumpster.
Kyle’s bloodshot eyes widened as he took a step back, stumbling.
"Wait... what are you doing? You bastard—!"
CRACK!
The iron pipe smashed directly into Kyle’s knees.
A sickening snap echoed through the alley.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Kyle collapsed to the ground, shrieking in pure agony. He clutched his leg, screaming, his voice ragged and wild. The pain hit him all at once, sobering him instantly as the world spun.
Liam dropped to a crouch, pipe still in hand, his voice low.
"How does it feel?" he whispered. "That pain... that helplessness... knowing no one’s coming to help you?"
His tone didn’t rise. It was calm. Cold.
"Do you remember what you said when I got hit by that car? When I was bleeding on the pavement?" Liam’s eyes narrowed. "You just watched."
Kyle sobbed.
"P-please man... spare me... I didn’t mean it... I’ll disappear... please..."
Liam laughed—not loudly, not maniacally. It was a quiet, cruel chuckle that came from deep in his chest.
He stood up slowly.
Then without warning—
BANG!
CRACK!
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The pipe connected again, this time against Kyle’s ribs.
The sound of breaking bone rang clear under the moonlight.
Kyle rolled on the ground, screaming louder than before, clawing at the pavement like it could somehow save him.
Blood mixed with spit as it dripped from his mouth.
Liam tilted his head, his eyes shadowed beneath his bangs.
"You don’t deserve mercy," he said quietly.
Kyle whimpered, "I-I’ll give you money... I’ll—anything—"
"I don’t want your money."
Another swing. Another scream.
The iron pipe dripped with crimson now.
But Liam wasn’t in a rush.
This was a message.
Not just to Kyle—but to Sam, Daryl and Jack. He is coming for them next.
