Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Four out of five. Would recommend it for satanic rituals.
I slip through the fallen branches and the broken trees that were probably brought down by malicious lightning. Murdered leaves crunch beneath my designer shoes and I don’t make the effort to conceal the sound of my approaching steps.
The best way to smoke out a mouse? Scare her to fucking death.
I want to see the fear mixed with excitement on her delicate face. Just like a moment ago when she squirmed and gasped and soaked my fingers even when she was horrified about the prospect of being choked.
My cock is suggesting we try that again with him inside her cunt this time. I shelve that idea for later as I shove unruly branches out of the way.
To say I’m taking my time would be an understatement. However, I’m plotting, listening, and searching for any signs of my prey.
The lack of light might, at first glance, seem like a handicap, but it’s far from it. Due to my vision’s limited field, my ears prickle at the tiniest noise, and my hunter instinct kicks into full gear.
It's for that reason that I stop in the middle of the jungle of possessed trees and study my surroundings. Too dark.
Too hollow.
Too…creepy, by societal standards.
Even though I could sleep here and welcome demons to try and possess me, Mia wouldn’t.
She slept with the lights on last night, and while I might have suspected that to be a one-off after my impromptu visit, her threatening me with bodily harm if I ever cut the lights off again means she was terrified at the prospect.
Not to mention, she didn’t deny it when we spoke of the candles earlier.
Conclusion: She wouldn’t wander this far, not even to throw me off.
I make a U-turn and run. This time, I silence my steps and control my breathing. I prefer the option of hunter, not the one being hunted, so it’s imperative that she doesn’t figure out my location when I’m not sure where she fucked off to.
I stop at the entrance of the back garden and sniff the air. Sure enough, there’s a hint of her perfume—magnolia.
Two options come to mind. She hid in the corner of the garden and then went inside when I left.
Or two. She ran around like a headless chicken, then came back here.
At any rate, she has the option to retrieve her dress and run away from the property.
Sure enough, I catch a shadow leaning down near the coffee table, probably to pick up the dress. Most of the candles have died down, so it’s hard to make out her profile.
“Is that you?” My low, whimsical whisper echoes through the old walls.
The shadow jolts and Mia abandons the dress and rushes to the stairs.
“Hide, little muse. If I find you, I’ll swallow you whole.” I follow after, taking the stairs two at a time. I can hear the creaking of the wood under her small frame.
Old houses are the best snitches that ever existed on the planet.
My smirk widens the closer my feet lead me to where she’s scurrying around like a literal mouse.
Again, I give her a bit of a head start, igniting her hope that if she runs fast enough and gives in to the adrenaline, she’ll be able to escape me.
Humans, by nature, can’t live without the promise of hope, as false as it might get. It doesn’t matter if the doomed reality of their situation hits them in the face. If they believe there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, they’ll go for it. Over and over again.
There’s nothing worse than hope.
Hope is the medicine of all fools, which is why I make complete use of it in any possible situation.
The wood creaks under my weight as I make my way up. Judging by the noise, Mia is close to the top, at the second and final level that consists of an open bedroom.
There’s a smaller third level that serves as an open roof, but it’s half destroyed and the makeshift stairs that lead to it are partially gone.
Soon, the creaking stops. Only the amateur symphony of the owls filters through. There isn’t even the faint sound of breathing that most humans can’t conceal.
But Mia isn’t just any human. She already sealed her voice and is probably able to suppress so much more.
“I know you’re here.” My voice drifts in the darkness. “Your hiding abilities are feeble at best and your running skills are categorically nonexistent.”
I expect her to jump me and make her favorite threat about snipping my balls—or kicking them—a reality. Although she’s a menace with the same boldness level as her brother, she’s also, like him, easily provoked.
She does have some of Killian’s characteristics as well. Which is probably why, contrary to the possibility I entertained, she doesn’t show herself. She doesn’t even make a peep or an indication of her location.