This is my suspenseful/ romance version of "The Boy 2" I wrote and had this idea since 2016 'The Boy', but never got around to posting it online. I needed to bring the real Brahms Heelshire, and Greta Evans back into the main story line. Especially after seeing 2020 "The Boy 2" I was very disappointed in the story line. BE READY FOR A TWIST! So here we go! Comment and ENJOY! :)

A door. Surrounded by pure darkness. It was just straight ahead. Escape was on the other side, waiting for her arrival. Her footsteps echoed as she walked towards the door. Light tried to escape the edges of it. The floor was wet, almost as if she was walking on a thin layer of ice. Every step she took made a small puddling echo through the darkness.

She slowly dropped to her knees to touch the bitter cold water with just the tip of her fingers. She stared at her reflection in the water, noticing that half of her face was missing. It was blurry, almost appearing as someone else's face was trying to connect with hers. She tried to make out who it was, or even what it was. The reflection started to fade away. Replacing it was a large figure slowly approaching to the surface. The figure seemed to be trapped from within. Isolated, away from the full light, all it has ever known was darkness. It was born in the night destiny to remain alone.

A hand slowly approaches to reach her, but couldn't get out, a thin layer of nothing covered the water. Hesitating to bring her hand to it, unsure what was going to happen next. Her breathing was getting heavier as she got closer. This creature, this person, this thing she didn't know what it was, it was glowing, like a dim light through its chest, trying to found hope of some kind. It was abandoned, reaching to her wanting the desire of one's human touch. She was about to touch the hand, but she was too late. Then suddenly it began to sink. With its hand starting to slowly descend, to the very bottom of the miraculous abyss. Demonic hands surrounded the dim light snatching at the arms and legs as it dragged the entity deeper into the chasm.

Without thinking, or anymore hesitation in that moment she quickly rushed her hand into the water to try and reach the weak figure. She stopped immediately at the sight of her entire arm in the freezing cold water. Nothing had remained except for her bones; the skin had vanished completely. Quickly noticing a dark smoky hand rising from beneath to reach for her hand. It would do the same to her as it did to the light. Without a second thought she yanked her hand out fast in fright as she stood abruptly. The creature had vanished from below. Her flesh and blood had returned during the retraction. She could stand on the water, but could not fall through it fully, she thought.

She felt completely puzzled, where was she, what is this dreadful unending place? Feeling overwhelmed by her millions of questions she was torturing herself with, thinking she might go mad. She was standing on death himself; the light was devoured; it had dispersed from sight. Trying to compose herself she closed her eyes for a moment to take control of her breathing again. Faint whispers had surrounded her being, her eyes jolted open with alarm. They were voices, she thought, she wasn't going crazy just yet.

"Hello?" she said softly as she looked frantically to her sides.

No answer but she tried again once more feeling irritated.

"Who's there?!" her voice was stronger this time.

Silence filled the endless black space. She heard fast footsteps rushing from behind her. Suddenly hearing a child's soft laughter in amusement. Her heart stopped as she turned around rapidly. Her breathing increased once more, losing control.

A dark wooden rocking chair appearing from out of nowhere. It was at quite a distance from where she stood. Struggling to see who actually was perched on the now creaking rocking chair from afar. Her body seemed paralyzed at the sight, too scared to move anywhere. Soon she heard soft hums coming from the chair. She had finally awoken from her daze due to the enchanting sound.

What if they need my help? What if maybe I'm here for a reason.

Thoughts in the back of her mind spoke to her with ease. Freedom was right there on the opposite side, waiting for her arrival. She glanced at it, then back to the disturbing rocking chair.

Make the right decision!

She felt as if she was being drawn to the chair. Finally deciding, she slowly started approaching the screeching rocking chair.

Am I going mad?

A slightly chilly breeze came across her face and lead down her frame, making her shiver vigorously. She began to get colder as she got closer. Soon feeling uneasy about her decision, she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. But there's no going back now, she thought. The door behind her started to fade away becoming more and more distant the further she abroad.

Almost reaching the chair, her eyes were locked on it, not daring to leave her sight from the spot. Just as she was about to reach the chair, it ceased its rocking abruptly along with the soft humming. Her heart skipped a beat as she stopped dead in her tracks. What now, she thought, do I turn back? If she turned back now, she would regret it, not knowing who was calling for her.

You have to know. You need to know.

Slowly taking ahold of the top corner of the chair, her hand shook uncontrollably. Closing her eyes, she took one long breath before facing her demise. She knew she had been through much worse though. She always had to be ready, for anything.

You're strong. Brave. Cunning. You are a survivor.

She was a survivor.

Opening her eyes with determination, she turned the stilled lifeless chair around in rage, and frustration. Her eyes shot wide open at the sight. She immediately backed away with her hands covering her mouth. She felt sick to her stomach, with an ache that led to pain throughout her body.

Its disturbing cracked bloody porcelain face was staring right at her. Cold, lifeless, unforgiving, dead stare laid heavily on her. A piece of paper with bloody little spots laid next to the doll along with a large dagger.

"NO!" she screamed with terror backing away faster.

Follow the rules. His rules.

The doll's face began to fall apart, it has been completely shatter. Hearing the loud glass chime together violently as its broken porcelain pieces fell into the depths below. Frantically trying to get away she slipped and had fallen on her back harshly.

Devilish hands began to rise up again breaking through the surface viciously grabbing her. She screamed in panic desperate to get away. They tried to drag her to the abyss, pulling her through. With quick thinking she struggled to turn but saw the dagger lay on the chair still, it hadn't fallen in the water. She desperately tried to reach for it, but the demonic creatures held tight. She pushed herself as hard as she could with her arm fully extended. She felt as if her arms and legs were about to fracture. Finally succeeding, she grabbed a tight hold on the dagger.

She violently stabbed the disturbing hands and arms without any hesitation. Her face was angry, upset, determined to reach her freedom. The creature's hands had become shattered like the doll's porcelain face once deceased. She stumbled to get up almost losing her balance again, under gaining full control.

She was all wet from the fall. Adrenaline kicked in fast, as she ran quickly to the other side. More hands started to shoot up fast trying to capture her once again. She dodged every movement with the dagger in her hands, determined to make it to the other side.

Is it getting further away?

The faster she ran the further it went, she wanted to cry, she was desperate to get out. She never stopped running. Everything started to turn all around her as she felt dizzy. The water was turning to the side with her as she was losing her balance. Everything was tilting, she panicked at the disorienting feeling. Then she fell to the side as everything turned. She had fallen through the murky waters and reached the other side.

She was somewhere else now. She laid on the ground. Her face felt moisture and dirt from the ground. The woods, she thought to herself. It was pouring rain, and mud was all over her clothes. She was in the real world; she had fallen and came back into reality. So she thought.

You've been here from the beginning.

She ascended, and looked about in every possible direction. She saw nothing but the large towering trees. Wiping herself off, remembering she still had the dagger clenched in her hand. Releasing the dagger as it made a hard thump on the wet ground, soon being covered by the dead leaves and water. She began to walk deeper into the endless woods. Putting her hands above her head to avoid as much water, but failed miserably.

Continuing her walk through the sinister woods she had stepped on something flat. Almost tripping from the surprising feeling of cement. Her brows knitted together as she looked down at it, then turned to the left, then to the right. She stepped both her feet onto the pavement pacing slowly to the middle.

This was where it all started.

A road, she thought, but no cars? Where was this leading to exactly? The road wasn't fully straight, it seemed a bit swervey on the turns. Didn't think it would matter which way it led, so she began her journey. The rain began to calm, soon coming to a complete stop only to hear the remaining droplets of water fall from the leaves. The sun never appears, it remained dark and cloudy. The road was beginning to straighten out once again. She felt tired and heavy from the none stop walking; she was soaked from head to toe. Her sweater felt gross and moist at the slightest touch. She unzipped it fast, wiggling out of it as it stuck to her arms. Tossing it into the bushes, it wouldn't be missed.

She was left with a murky white tank top. The cold air felt good for just a moment, bring her back alive. She felt even lighter than before. Fog began to slither its way through the woods. Making it difficult to see what was ahead now. Sighing, she didn't know why she was here, or how. Even though at the same time it felt like she wasn't there at all.

Don't you remember this place? You were so young.

Suddenly hearing a small crack from behind. She didn't think much of it, just assuming something might have fallen from the thick branches above. She continued her walk. The crack became even louder. She stopped dead in her tracks as her face lit up with fear. Her heart pumping blood fast as she become petrified at this very moment, that someone or something, was following her. She tried desperately to calm her breathing through her nostrils. She took another few steps further not daring to look back.

She started to hear more and more cracks, and they weren't hers. Too frightened to turn, panic started to set in like a lost child. She ran. She ran as fast as she could using every muscle strength she had left in her body. She tried to turn her head a little to sneak a peek if she was still being followed, not seeing a thick branch laying lifelessly on the ground, she tripped hard onto the unforgiving cement. Hitting her head, she couldn't stop the speed that her body was going. Seeing doubles for a second, her temple started to bleed out a little. Trying to regain consciousness, she desperately tried to pick herself up.

She was strong enough to get to her now sore knees. Her head was down as her hair stuck to her wet face. She pushed it out the way to see, suddenly letting her tears finally go. Why is this always happening to me?

"Please…, someone…, help me." She whispered softly in defeat to herself.

I thought you could find your way back?

She was hurt, broken, alone. She was left isolated from the rest of the world. She was still so young. So many horrific stories she has from her lifetime. She had never even spoken once about it fully, maybe this was her punishment for keeping everything to herself. She was lost, and out of answers. She needed to be loved, and cared for, she deserved better than this. She needed help.

"Greta?"

Her eyes shot open with distress. Her heart was about to give out. That voice, that child-like voice, she dreaded the day of ever hearing it again. She spun around quickly on her knees to finally face the voice. It was him.

"Brahms?" she said with a shaky voice.

He stood a good amount of distance from her. He was in the same outfit as she last saw him. His porcelain face still laid profound depressing cracks within the mask. Soaked from head to toe as she was, his chest heaved in and out deeply. His head slightly tilted to the side as he starred at her from afar. Nothing else existed to him, except for her. Greta had risen from the ground cautiously.

"I don't understand. I thought you wer-" She stopped herself fast having trouble remembering now what took place in the mansion. Her mind was running a mile a minute, too many thoughts clouding her concentration. Why was he here? What did he want? Was her suffering ever going to end?

He started to walk towards her ever so slowly. Greta took a small step back.

"You're not real." She said with an unsteady voice.

Be a good boy Brahms.

He stopped dead in his tracks at her three simple words. Brahms stayed quite for a good five seconds still keeping all eyes on her. The drops of water bounced off his thick dark curls. His breathing become heavier now, steam was coming through the nostrils of his mask. He clenched his fists tightly but remained steady on his sides. White began to appear through his knuckles. His eyes widen with misperception as he tilted his head once again.

"You don't think I'm real, Greta?" He asked in his innocent child-like voice.

She was scared to death, even to hear a grown man manipulate the voice of a young boy so perfectly. She didn't want to answer his question.

"Silly Greta, of course I'm real. We were real." His innocent voice started to taunt her. She didn't know what to do at this point. She was thinking out her options, should she run now, or will it be too late. He was stronger, and faster then any normal man should be.

"Why did you leave, Greta?" Brahms somewhat soothing child-like voice struggled to stay in character.

Eyes locked one another, as she started to take a small step forward. Putting her hands half way up to try, and keep him remain calm.

"Brahms…, its ok, I'm here now, I didn't leave you. Your still my good boy, right?" She said softly struggling to put up a small smile.

He didn't say anything at the moment.

"I'll be good, I promise." His child-like voice pleaded towards her.

Suddenly Greta saw him kneeling before her repeating those same exact works before she ran out the mansion.

No Brahms!

Greta couldn't breathe at the feeling of seeing the terrifying event once again. Malcom, laying there unconsciously as Brahms's massive body towered over his, getting ready to finish him off. Suddenly he had stopped what he was doing, and immediately shot all his action onto her. She didn't know what made him stop, or what was going through his mind. His whole demeanor changed in a split second when he saw her. All she could remember was him coming closer, as she was trying to get away.

If you leave, I'll kill him!

Greta woke up from her deep flashback, still only to see Brahms in front of her.

"But you..., haven't been good." She said slowly.

Brahms felt rage start to bundle up inside him from her foolish choice of words. How could she say that after everything he had done for her? Looking now at the man standing before her, she had to leave. Greta could now sense the increasing tense building up within him. The air felt thick and musty from his heavy breathing, it echoed throughout the trees. Thus, it wouldn't end well, it never does. Seeing when she stabbed him hard in gut. She couldn't imagine that searing pain, but Brahms wasn't one to acknowledge pain when he was enraged.

"Brahms I-." She said with a stutter. "I had no choice, I- I have go now." She tried to say as softly as possible. She didn't know what to say to the man who almost killed her. So, she began to back away.

"Greta." His tone was lower now. The well-behaved acquitted child was gone. He started to walk towards her quickly.

She saw this, and ran the opposite direction of him. The man psycho adrenaline kicked in fast, as he ran after her. He began to scream and shout towards her. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. Greta didn't look back this time.

"Get back here! Or I'll kill you like the others! I'll kill you!" The words echoed through the woods.

I'll kill you!

Greta's heart was pounding hard against her rib cage. Coming to the end of the road she was back at the very same place where she had never wanted to be again.

The Heelshire Mansion.

She frantically run up the stairs desperately trying to open the door. She started to cry as the door wasn't opening.

"Come on!" She yelled.

Slamming her body against the solid door with knob in her hand. She used all her strength and got it to open. Without a second thought she jumped in, but felt a hard-strong grasp on her wrist. She winced in pain at the man taking ahold of her. Lifting her into the air, she kicked and screamed for her freedom.

Brahms threw her to the ground like a rag doll when she had managed to kick him. She stumbled to get up as her eyes laid on his wide ones. Kicking her legs up once more feeling defenseless, she tried anything. Greta managed to get up and ran down the hall. Brahms watched as she did this. He put one hand behind his back yanking the dagger out from his stitch up pocket. Brahms looked at it, then to her, he couldn't let her go.

"You can't…. leave…. me." He whispered. He darted right towards her position.

Greta body slammed against the end of the hall feeling weak. Her body turned slowly, only to see a grown man coming towards her with a dagger slowly ascending her way. She couldn't move, she was stuck. His footsteps got heavier and louder the closer he came. His body lunged towards her.

"You broke the rules!" Were his last words, before the dagger met her, everything went black.

Her body shot up from the bed, breathing heavy, her face was wet, and the sheets were damp. She looked around the room, but saw nothing accept herself in the large mirror. Greta took her hands placing them on her face with relief. It was just another dream, but her body was still shaking from the event. They all seem so real, every last one of them that she's had so far. This was by far the worst; she couldn't lay in the bed any longer. She glanced at the clock reading 2:35 A.M. She rolled her eyes as she got up from the sweaty bed. She took one of her thinner blankets throwing it over her shoulders. Greta paced herself over to the window. She sat herself on the wide ledge next to the window opening it to feel the cool refreshing air on her face. Picking her legs up she kept them close to her chest holding tight.

She looked out at the window, and into the night sky filled with tiny glimmering stars.

It had been a fortnight since the incident had occurred. There was never any sight of him again after that day. She was still in England; Greta wasn't ready to go back to America yet. She was still coping with everything that happened. Dealing with it in her own way, she couldn't go back letting her mother and sister know she was almost killed by Cole, and well..., Brahms. His name alone gave her the chills. She would never tell them any of this though, they knew too much about Cole. They sure as hell didn't need to know about a deranged man-child like Brahms living in the walls of the manor as she worked and lived there for the time being, or so she thought. She had put her family through enough of her bull shit she thought. Greta brought this man into her life and her family as well, it had affected them all, she felt guilty for what she had done. Cole might have been gone, but her blame still lingered. Still in a way, now that he was gone for good, she was free from his diseased grasp. She only had one man to thank, Brahms.

If it wasn't for him, or ever even showing up at the Heelshire Manor for that matter, would've never happened. In a way she was thankful, but still regretted ever encountering his true presence.

She took a sigh now looking out towards the field. She was on a small farm living with Malcom. He was kind enough for letting her live with him for time being. He was most grateful that she had save his life. That she came back, for him. He didn't know how to thank her enough, and he couldn't possibly turn her away after everything. He insisted she could stay for as long as she needed, she started to think he rather enjoyed her company very much. Greta really did like Malcom a lot; they both had a connection but she didn't know if she could see it flourishing.

Besides, a relationship was the last thing on her mind right now. There were times when they almost did it on her bed, but now as she thought back on it, she was rather lonely at the time. She couldn't see them getting married and having ki-

She stopped her thoughts fast at that word, she didn't want to think about children, not after her accident.

Greta had been starring out the window for some time now, wondering if she could ever go back to sleep. It was dark out, making the woods appear scary in the night. She could hear the rustling of the tree branches as the wind softly blew on them. An hour had passed now.

She didn't know how to tell Malcom this, but she did have to go back home. She had already booked a ticket, she'd be leaving in two days, and didn't have much time. Greta didn't want to face her sister and mother, but she felt home sick at the same time.

She would miss Malcom though dearly. She would miss being served breakfast, and going out for lovely walks, and nice dinners. He showed her an much as London as he could, considering he still had to go to work during the day. Maybe she'd come back and visit him, if he'd have her. She would never forget Malcom.

Suddenly her mind went to Brahms, she was sure he would be living in the mansion for the rest of his life. They never went to the police. Malcom wanted to, but Greta didn't. She didn't understand why, even though she kind of had a weird feeling in the back of her mind telling her not to go. If it was just Cole, it would have been different, but with Brahms, something just didn't feel right to her.

He'd probably had never been further than his front doors. Remembering when he screamed for her not to leave him, he never did leave the house to chase after her. She had come back, but not for him. Did he think she might come back for him? This thought confused her for a second, she didn't know what was going through his furious mind, but she had a feeling. Hurt, betrayed, angry, that she left him behind, just like everyone else.

Greta thought she might cry for a second, feeling pity on the beast. It upset her to think his parents wanted the people to believe he died in that nasty fire. All just for the sake of their reputation on what people thought of them and that there only son that was, odd. Thinking back to Malcom's words, 'odd' telling her that he was different from the rest. Greta knows now that he murdered a child just around his young age. A little girl, and she'll never know why he did what he did. Probably best if she didn't dwell on the sad story.

He would be cursed to live in the walls forever. Alone, and unloved. His parents had failed him miserably, just as he failed the both of them. He was too insane to comprehend his wrong doings.

Greta shifted her sitting position a bit ignoring the radiating numbness running down her thigh.

She thought if Brahms could ever be helped, redeemed from himself, or was it too late for him.

Go back to the good boy.

If she were crazy, she actually thought about going back to save him from the unending walls. Her eyes shot open at her own thoughts; had she been going crazy? She almost laughed at herself, if she did ever go back, he'd probably want to hurt or even kill her just for leaving him in the first place. Greta had broken the rules, his stupid rules.

She rolled her eyes, knocking her head against the thin wall behind her. Why did it have to be this way?

If you stayed, known of this would have happened. It would've been better for all of us.

Brahms was a lost soul. A man on the outside, and a child on the inside. If it wasn't his way, all hell broke loose with just the flick of his wrist. He forgets how strong he really is, with the mind of a child everything is all fun and games. She remembered hearing his real voice when he lost control of himself, because of her. Deep, dark, and sinister, as it flowed out easily do to his wrath.

What scared her most though was her thinking about Brahms.

It was getting late, and she started to yawn. It began to get a little chillier now. She held her blanket closer to her frame, and she stood up. Greta looked out the window one last time and into the woods from afar. It always looked so familiar, she felt like there were eyes watching her every move. She closed the window and locked it shut.

You never know who's watching from beyond the trees.