Chapter 10

‘Help me please, God, or whoever the fuck will listen. I can't stop thinking about him. The man in the mask. My stalker. My kidnapper'

The bright orange sun looked beautiful as it hovered above the pine tree-filled-horizon, slowly dropping behind them into its slumber. I gazed out my window for the umpteenth time tonight, praying to a God that clearly doesn't exist. Never responding to any of my prayers nor coming to my salvation. I needed clarity, because there were so many things wrong with me.

The man in the mask, nearly gave me my first orgasm.

What I felt was nothing like I felt with Damon and Ruby. I"d never thought I"d say it, but I was desperate for my release, for reasons I had no business trying to understand.

And the shadow man was gambling with my life, that had been threatened one too many times. My heart practically galloped away through the forest, finding its way back home, holding onto hope. Hope that I would someday be free. My skin caused a wet patch on the window, I was sweating. My stupid room had been scorching all day with no fan or A/C on, or even a window to crack. Even by nightfall, it was still sweltering.

A silent kind of torture and punishment, stupid shadow man. The fucker. Walking naked around my room and having cold showers was my only choice if I wanted any relief from the feeling of my skin burning from the outside in. Not that I had much of a choice, being naked soon became my new norm. The maid had gifted me a little black box yesterday with a black silk robe in it. There was a little tag embossed with two words on it.

From -H.

I assumed it was the shadow man's initial, not that he would tell me it. Damon said it to the others as they crowded me in the street before they took me, ‘the prettiest H has found for us yet'.

Well fuck him. I"d be damned if I was going to accept the gift, let alone wear it. Even if it was pretty. Fine, stunning. Whatever. It could stay in the back of the closet where it belonged, in a heap, and invisible.

I sighed, I was trapped in a blacked-out room, alone with my thoughts and the ability to think about nothing other than the shadow man and his three fucking henchmen. The prick made my head spin, hate didn't do the word any justice for how I felt toward him. My mind was at constant war with itself. And I was seemingly always thinking of him and his erotic scent that was burnt into my brain.

The memory of his finger deliciously swirling around my clit. Rudely interrupted by him drawing his knife into me and then disappearing again like a shadow of the night. Gah!...

The bastard. Yet, despite all that why did my brain want to know what his cock felt like inside me, but also want to kill him? I practiced laying punches into my pillow sometimes when I was bored, not that it ever made a dent from my hits. It was hopeless. I couldn't even kill a fly if I tried. I spent my days staring out my window, plotting my escape.

But by the time the border between night and day faded, it was always without conclusion.

Until today. I had it worked out perfectly. My plan couldn't fail. It wouldn"t fail. I had been studying the maid for three days. It had been three sunrises since I've been in this room, three sun rises since the miraculous words from Damon about the shadow man going to kill meran chaos in my mind. Fuelling my adrenaline to my plan. Three sunrises of losing my sanity. It made no sense.

Why I was sent in here instead of back to the cage with the others where I was originally taken to? No one had been in here other than the shadow man the night I was thrown in here, and the maid.

Stuck in my train of thought, I mindlessly ran my finger along the cracked skin on my chest from where his knife had trailed down. I haven't seen him since. I had to stop the bleeding with the towel in the bathroom. It didn't flow for long, thankfully not as deep as I had originally thought. But nonetheless, he still hurt me. But he didn't kill me. Why? That was anyone's guess. Damon said he was going to. So why didn't he?

I wracked my brain for hours trying to work out why, and it was utterly exhausting. To count my days here, I had strategically marked a line in the mirror with my foggy breath and my finger.

Something invisible, only I knew about. It's not like I had a pen and paper, so what's a girl to do? When I wasn't wallowing in my self-pity, I was planning my getaway. Given that the door was only accessible by two people that I knew of, I needed to be smart about it. I had no chance against the shadow man if he opened the door, but the maid on the other hand… The maid would never expect it.

Because I had never given her the impression I would do anything stupid. I decided I would escape, under the cover of night, because daylight was too obvious. I needed the moonlight to light my path, tonight. It would be a full moon. But running down the driveway and following the road was a bad idea, it would be too easy for me to be found. I needed the cover of those pine trees, somewhere dark.

Somewhere I could hide, at least until daybreak, and I"d figure the rest out later. If I wanted any chance of freedom, I needed to run, fast and hard. Not my strong suit, as I hated exercise.

I mentally noted that the maid came into my room three times a day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. I'd need the maid at her most vulnerable. I could only attempt this once, for who knew what consequence I'd face if I was caught? But that wasn't something I needed to nest in my head right now.

Her schedule was to come in with the trolley of food, refreshments and fresh towels, and in the mornings, she made the bed and fluffed around cleaning. Which I still couldn't wrap my head around. I was a prisoner, why would a prisoner have the bed made, but no clothes? I was given a nice room with a stunning view, home cooked delicious meals that brought the colour back into my face, and the energy to flee.

Freshly made juice, coffee, clean sheets, a bath with a freaking rainfall tap from the ceiling and a big arse shower. Just with locked doors and windows, no furniture, or activities. The whole thing was a head fuck.

I paid attention to her routine, learning it never once altered. And she was never late. The very second the sun darkened the horizon, the door clicked open.

When she brought in dinners, she hovered the trolley at my door, letting it lean against the trolley as she pushed the tray of food and bottle of water onto the floor. She never set foot into the room at dinner times, I couldn't understand why but that was the way she did it.

Unlike at breakfast time, she physically walked in and closed the door behind her, attending other duties in the room with her head down and her mouth shut. My conclusion? Dinner time was the only time to get the fuck out of hell. I figured wearing the robe would be a better decision to flee in than the stupid king size sheet that I would only trip over.

I rolled my eyes and darted off to fetch it and put it on, tying a double knot across my stomach.

I turned the tap in the bathroom on, not that I was planning on bathing right now. Running water was my decoy. When the maid came to bring dinner, she would think I was in the bathroom. But I wouldn"t be.

The sunset had well and truly dwindled passed the pine trees, and the door hadn't budged. For the first time ever, she was late. I sat on the bed, waiting. Something suddenly dropped to the floor from under the bed.

A pencil. Brows furrowed, I stuck my hand under to feel for anything else that might have been lodged there. I felt tape where the pencil was strapped to, and my mouth dried, finding a piece of paper.

A note. It was covered with dried, old blood, smeared by fingertips. I read it with a narrow throat.

‘If you are reading this, then you too are held prisoner here. I hope this message gets to you.

You are not safe here. They will hurt you.

They will make your body do unspeakable things. Strip you of your dignity, worth and body.

They will have their way with you.

And when they are finished, he will kill you.

Run.

Don't let them catch you.

E'

Tears poured down my face. My heart thumped hard in my chest. I needed to get out. STAT. Where the fuck was this fucking maid? I flinched, the door began churning its mechanical noises by her on the other side. I leaped off the bed, wiping my tears, and stood the other side of the door where she wouldn't expect me. I was in the shower according to her.

As she opened the door, running only on adrenaline, I slid the pencil that fell from my bed along the floor up against the skirting board with my foot. She pushed the tray into the room and walked away without so much as a second glance. The door closed against the pencil. It worked.

The maid wandered off down the barely lit hallway, and I let out a relieved sigh after holding my breath for what felt like far too many minutes. She finally disappeared, and I made my escape, tip-toeing my way through the hallway the opposite direction. The place was a maze with doors everywhere, ones I couldn't open. I remember some parts of the mansion but not enough to know my way out.

There was an elevator, I remember that one.

But I opted for the staircase instead. Sneaking my way around, hiding behind corners and objects, I could soon see a way out, but there was a door ajar with a dim light from behind it, one I'd have to walk past to get to the terrace. It was the other side of the lounge room. I stilled, listening to my surroundings. The soft melody of a piano playing from the dimly lit room caught my attention.

It was a similar melody to the old children"s lullaby "hush little baby", and much like the one Eminem had redone.

The tune was beautiful. Tugging at my heart, it was sad. Come on, Esme, focus. I made haste closer to the door, not letting my breath shatter. I gulped hard. From within the room, I could hear a man weeping. Curiosity took over my brain, and I stood beside the door, completely entranced by this melody and his tears. For some reason, a sympathetic tear fell from my eye. This was pure pain.

Foolishly, I peered my head from the corner of the door frame to get a better chance of hearing or seeing what should have stayed behind closed doors, and what should have stayed out of my train of thought. It was a silhouette of the shadow man, the dimly lit candle on the other side of him casted a darkness. He sat at the piano with his black cape draped over him entirely.

He really did look like the Grim Reaper, only he was human. I bit my tongue to stop my gasp, seeing his horned mask was perched on the top of the piano.

My stomach fluttered, knocking at something I couldn't put my finger on. Curiosity maybe. I couldn't see his face, but I could just make out the silhouette of it. His perfect jawline and his nose. I squinted to get a better look, but it was no use. It was too dark. He was completely lost in his own world, tapping away at the black and white keys, rocking back and forth in his melody between the sobs.

I could just make out that the paint on his hands wasn't all there like it normally was. Some of it was smudged on the keys of the piano, giving the impression that he played it a lot.

The depressive tune and sounds of his weeps twisted at my heart. I shouldn't feel what I did for this man, he was a killer. But I did. I knew I shouldn't be here, I should be running for my life right now. But as it so happens, my feet were concreted into the ground.

Listening. Watching. This man was hurting, hard. And whatever pain he was feeling, radiated through me, hard. It was evident that this man was a beautiful disaster. A musical murderer. He stopped playing, and his head turned slightly, pausing his breathing in concentration. My mouth dried, and I threw my body back behind the wall.

Shit.My hand darted to my chest, coaxing it from falling out of my rib cage and I melted, a bead of sweat pooling and trailing down my nose. I froze, waiting for him to come and slit my throat for spying, for attempting to escape. But he didn't. A travailed sigh blew past his lips and he continued to play the same melody again, lulling my quickened heart.

I was getting sick and tired of my moral compass not being where it should.

I was making a habit of putting my nose where it didn't belong, like a cat to a laser. I needed to get out before he found me.