The distinctive smell of alcohol, cigarettes, bergamot, and the stench of metallic blood envelops me.
No.
No.
No.
I glance behind me and my eyes clash with Nikolai’s darker ones. They’re more unhinged than a witch during a pagan funeral, bloodshot and filled with a promise of drawing blood.
My blood.
Not allowing myself to think about it, I walk in Red Mask’s direction. He can hit me with that bat, for all I care. Maybe I’ll be lucky and will lose consciousness and, therefore, can remove my brain from this situation.
“Look, I caught a stray cat.” Nikolai’s rough voice sounds like the trigger for nightmares. “He just wouldn’t stop running, you know, and has a temper. Threw a whole fucking branch at my face and nearly knocked me out. Gotta love the motherfucking feisty ones. They’re so fun to break into pieces.”
I stride to Red Mask, who studies me up and down and then lifts the bat.
Finally.
It’s done.
It’s over.
I’ll go back to a world where I don’t cross paths with these wastes of human—
A heavy weight lands on my back, and I flinch as a strong arm wraps around my neck and nearly crushes my windpipe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t—
Survival instinct kicks in and I elbow Nikolai with every ounce of energy I have left. He might as well be a wall because not only does he not release me, but he also tightens his grip.
Panic stiffens my muscles and I push with feral strength and bite him at some point, but Nikolai doesn’t flinch. He drags me behind the trees, my feet scraping the ground, and I open my mouth to call for help, even if it’s from another damned Heathen.
Nikolai slams another hand on my mouth, digging the mask against my lips. “Shhh. I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.”
My words come in mumbled, haunted sounds, like in those creepy horror movies where the nerd dies first.
That’s me. I’m the nerd.
In a last-ditch attempt, I throw the entirety of my weight back. My muscle mass doesn’t compare to his, but I work out a lot.
I run, too. More than should be humanly allowed.
Nikolai loses his footing and I dart to my right, but the world is pulled from beneath my feet. He tackles me to the ground, and I land on my stomach.
A massive weight slams against my back, and Nikolai is on top of me like a brick wall.
I cough, straining, and my deep inhale forces me to breathe in tiny particles of dirt. My lungs burn and I realize it’s because he still has me in a chokehold.
“A fucking fighter. Jackpot.” His voice echoes like the dark ink from my fucked-up nightmares. “Fight me more. Do it harder. Stronger. Faster. I want the fight!”
I tap his arm twice, wheezing and gasping for breath.
I get lightheaded and spots of yellow and orange spark behind my heavy lids.
“No fight?” He sounds disappointed. “Fine, guess you can’t if you’re being choked. If I release you, will you behave?”
My short nails scratch the long sleeves of his shirt, and he hums. “Though I’m fine with the status quo. I rather like this position.”
Humiliation rushes through my bloodstream like poison as the feel of his body crushing mine registers faster than the lack of oxygen. His chest covers my back and his knee is jammed between my thighs. His entire weight spreads over me and he’s so damn heavy.
I press myself against the dirt as if that will help me escape him. A dark chuckle erupts in my ear as he loosens his grip enough for me to breathe.
He makes no move to release me or push the hell off me, though.
I inhale cracked breaths and cough at the sudden rush of air.
“Anyone ever tell you how fucking hot you feel when struggling for control? I could swallow you alive and leave no crumbs.” The last sentence is whispered against my earlobe and I nearly retch.
Out of my skin.
Out of my fucked-up brain.
I don’t know where I get the strength, but I elbow him and crawl from beneath him faster than he can blink.
Once I’m on my feet, I start to run—
“I take it you’re not worried about your brother?”
I come to a halt and slowly turn around. Nikolai is on his feet, arms crossed and head tilted to the side as he watches me nonchalantly.
Only, there’s nothing nonchalant about him. The twat could only be described as mental.
“Heard he’s into a lot of shit,” he continues. “Landon, I mean. He’s the reason you’re here, right?”
My eyes widen behind the mask. “Are you the one who sent me the invitation?”