Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I stop talking at the exact moment my stomach launches into my throat. Another wooden structure is on the horizon, but unlike the cabin we left over an hour ago, it doesn’t give off a cozy, rustic vibe.
It looks like the set of a horror film. It’s low to the ground, covered with both shrubbery and snow, and there are dead animals hanging from a secondary structure on its left. A deer, three rabbits, and a bird I don’t recognize are dangling from the silver hooks every Texas Chainsaw Massacre inspired film uses as props. They’re beheaded and their stomachs are cut open. If that isn’t already concerning, there’s a giant silver hook in the middle of the pack, empty and primed for its next victim.
What if that victim is me?
Too scared to think rationally, and almost certain my blasé response an hour ago is coming back to bite me on the ass, I beat into the stranger with everything I have before leveraging my getaway by digging my good foot into his ribs and pushing back with all my might.
Although my escape almost gets snagged by the sling holding his shotgun to his body, I land on my ass with a thud. Shock I’m not swallowed whole by the snow the stranger hiked us through doesn’t get the chance to register. I’m too busy crawling through the sloshy track he left behind to let something as measly as surprise slow me down.
I’ve barely scampered three feet away when the stranger catches up with me. He doesn’t yank me up by my hair like almost every gory mafia movie depicts. He bands his arm around my waist before plucking me from the ground as if I am weightless.
“No!” I scream, still hopeful someone will hear me even with us tracking deeper into the woods. I wouldn’t say I have an overly girlie voice, but when I want to be heard, I have no issues bringing out the pitch that has my voice ringing in the interns’ ears long after initiation.
All hope is lost when my cries for help echo back at me.
There’s no one close by.
Not a single sole.
I am alone and at the mercy of a madman.
“Please,” I beg, my one word more a sob than an actual word. “I don’t want to die. I’ve barely lived.” My plea comes out as honest because it is. I work. That’s all I do. That isn’t living. It isn’t even coping, but it won’t stop me from begging for mercy. “Please.”
When my pleas get me nowhere, I claw my nails into the stranger’s leathery hands before throwing my head back.
The crack of my skull into his nose is brutal, but it has nothing on his grunt. “Arrgghhh!” It isn’t close to friendly. It roars through my chest as loudly as the stomps he does to race us inside the wood-like structure.
In my haste to get away from him, I didn’t check the direction I was crawling. Like an idiot with air for brains, I was scrambling toward the murderous scene instead of the freedom I’m sure is here somewhere if I were given a chance to look.
Although tired both emotionally and physically, I fight the stranger all the way. I kick him, bite him, and scream so loud, he has no choice but to clamp his hand over my mouth to ensure he doesn’t suffer permanent hearing loss.
It’s at that exact moment my fight comes to an end.
I’m petrified of being suffocated to death. It’s my biggest fear. Every nightmare I’ve had the past decade involves me being killed by some form of brain hypoxia.
Brain hypoxia is when the brain doesn’t get enough oxygen. It can be from drowning, choking, suffocation, or cardiac arrest, but my fear solely stems from oxygen deprivation by breath manipulation.
Even if it could have spiced up our unindulgent sex life, I wouldn’t let Cedric curl his hand around my throat. I was paranoid he didn’t know me well enough not to take it too far, and from his lack of remorse three nights ago, with good reason.
I loathe my neck being touched, but even more than that, I hate how paralyzing my fear is when it reaches full fruition. The stranger could do anything to me right now, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. I’m frozen with fear, and I have no idea why.
It isn’t like anyone has tried to kill me before now.
Chapter Seven
When creaking floorboards broadcast that I’m no longer alone, I roll over the best I can without announcing my movements to the bearded stranger. He didn’t hurt me last night when fear paralyzed me, but he did take advantage of my frozen state to protect himself from another attack.
I’m tied to a bed oddly similar to the one in the original cabin, and to keep things in perspective, he used a length of vine to restrain me instead of rope.