He’s holding a freaking knife to my neck. This isn’t what I signed up for—there was no mention of knives.
“Je—”
“Shh.” His voice has lowered, deepened, and is tugging on a secret part of me. “You don’t say my name.”
I swallow, my throat working against the metal blade.
Right.
We’re anonymous now.
It’s not about us as people, but more about how we’re both tools for pleasure. In this setting, I don’t have to think about repercussions or feel shame for wanting this type of barbarity.
That knowledge fills me with unbounded peace.
I let my body relax and even the freezing weight of the knife doesn’t scare me.
It’s one second in time, a second of silence, of mutual understanding.
But then he’s on me.
His muscular chest pushes into me from behind, firm and unyielding. I don’t have to see it, but I feel his height dwarfing my frame.
He’s tall and intimidating.
Dark and alluring.
He’s every fucked-up fantasy and more.
I crane my head back a little and all the breath is knocked out of my lungs when I’m met by the neon orange mask.
The same mask he wore that first time he chased me.
His dark eyes lack a sliver of light as they rip through the confinement of my flesh and peek into my soul.
It hits me then.
With the mask on, he has free rein to be deranged, with not one human bone in his body.
Not that he isn’t usually, but at least he doesn’t normally hold a knife.
“I’ll give you a head start.” He tilts my head back further using his knife. “You can either run or hide, it’s your choice. But if I find you, I fuck you. You’ll bleed and scream, and beg, but nothing will stop me from claiming you, breaking you, and tearing you apart. Either put an end to it now and leave or agree to my terms and run.”
His knife slides swiftly from my throat, but it’s replaced by the weight of his words.
My heart thunders and the safe word hangs on the tip of my tongue. It’s the responsible thing to do, and I am responsible.
I’m the good girl Cecily.
The mediator.
Daddy’s little girl.
But all of those titles vanish into thin air as I dart past him and run outside.
Superhuman energy buzzes through my veins and flares beneath the surface. I round the cottage, my shoes slapping against the wood and creating a haunting sound.
The noise mixes with the owl’s cries, the night’s silence, and my heart’s thundering beats.
Slow, sure footsteps materialize behind me, spooky.
Thrilling.
I know he’s on my tail. I can feel him, smell his leather and wood scent with my fear.
But I don’t stop.
Don’t look behind me.
I have no clue what I’m doing or where I’m going. The moment I spot the small set of stairs at the back of the cottage, I fly down them but pause when I find a lake.
The surface shines under the moonlight, murky, dark, and frightening. Two boats are tied to a deck and a few branches float in the water.
As I’m studying my new finding, black creatures fly in the night, releasing squeaky voices.
I damn near have a heart attack, thinking they’re actual crows, and then I realize they’re either crows or ravens.
Or bats.
I do a quick calculation of the distance to the forest to the side of me and come to the realization that the boats are way closer.
One problem, though. Where the hell will I go on the lake? Actually, two problems. I don’t even know how to drive one, and that’s only if the engine works.
But if I choose the forest…
I shudder at the thought of what could be lurking in the darkness.
Steps come up behind me and I yelp, then run to the deck. Screw it. How hard can it be to drive a boat?
I’m frantic, my movements unsteady as I fumble with the rope of the newest-looking boat.
My feet shake and I know I’m losing time with each passing second I’m not undoing the knots.
Come on, come on.
Sweat trickles down my temple and glues my hoodie to my back. One of my nails breaks on the rough rope, but instead of focusing on that, I cast a fleeting glance behind me and freeze.
I’m pretty sure I heard him on my heels just now, exerting a minimal amount of effort while I was giving it my all.
So how come there’s no one there?
Another flock of ravens or crows or whatever in the Batman fly into the night and I jerk, then breathe in a choppy rhythm.
My gaze continues studying my surroundings as I keep trying to undo the knots.