Chapter 11

Before I knew it, I was out of the glass terrace doors and my legs were taking me faster than they had in their lives. I was somewhat thankful for the food I had blessed in my stomach from the last three days, building my energy for this moment.

I ran. Ran fucking hard, my heart pounding like mad. I was doing it, I was really doing it. Tears streamed down my face as my feet pummelled onto the clean-cut grass as I neared the bushland, a fair distance away. The scent of pine grew stronger and stronger. I had tunnel vision of the forest, where I would hide until daybreak and figure the rest out tomorrow. I would get Tilly out somehow. Not on my own, though.

I needed back up. I'll come back for you, Tilly. I promise. My path was well lit, and if I were able to, I think I'd just about be able to throw a rope around the moon and pull it in closer to touch it, that's how big it was shining tonight.

"Shit." I panted over my shoulder, taking one last glance at the mansion before it disappeared into nothingness.

I laughed, for some strange reason. Not that I found it funny. Running barefoot in nothing else but a robe wasn't exactly comfortable sport, but my options were thinner than air. I didn't care now. I was free. Ish…

I huffed through tears and whatever breath my lungs could draw in, fuelled entirely by adrenaline and my imagination of the future. I'd have to move somewhere else, he knew where I lived. I'd have to change colleges since he knew where I went. He knew where I worked, he knew my every move.

And now that I think of it, I knew it was him that took my fucking drawings.

I couldn't move in with my parents. I wouldn't risk their lives over the psychopathic lunatic who"d kidnapped me. Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid piano. Fuck him and his stupid peace offering, or whatever giving me this stupid robe was for. Without the money Tilly was earning from stripping at Jesse's club and taking home strange men for a bit of extra cash.

I had no hope surviving on my own unless I lived in even more of a slum than I already did. I'd need another job, two, probably three.

The thought curled my stomach. Fuck him. I was out of his sight now. I hoped Tilly and the other hostages would be okay between now and when I filed a police report, I really did.

A stray sound juddered my ear from somewhere behind me, and panic kicked in. My head pounded a likewise pattern to my heart, but at least I had made it into the woodland. Heavy footsteps threatened as they neared. Fuck. Someone was coming, and fast. I bolted harder, panting, sobbing, ignoring the pelting stings at the soles of my feet.

The scent of rich pine and mist ripped horror through my brain, an unwelcome scent. It smelt like him. The moisture of the mist chilled my lungs with each breath, and the overgrown branches clawed at my body as I ran between them, drawing blood, which evidently was slowing my pace.

My breath hitched, and my soul parted my body, a deep, tormenting masculine laugh echoed from somewhere behind me. The echo enveloped my chest like I had been stepped on, which only fuelled my terror. Tears rolled down my face as I kept running to the ends of the earth, not looking back. Just running. Heavy footsteps on crunching leaves and sticks inched closer and closer behind me. I was being chased.

"You can't hide, pet. This is my playground."

A deep husky voice called from somewhere in the darkness, I didn't recognise who it was, but I had a hunch. I couldn't make out if it was in front, behind, or to my sides. I rushed my head back, barely noticing the trees flashing past my eyes, but no one was behind me and the sound of footfalls fell quiet. My life was hanging by a thread. I had to run faster, I had to get out.

The pain of my bare feet that were repetitively getting pierced by sharp fallen branches and shrubbery slowed me, there were no trails. I had to make my own. Panic and downright terror sent me even further into the forest. How far I had been running was anyone's guess. The full moon that was shining as bright as day when I left was gone. I had run into blackness. Good.

But fuck, it was haunting. I shuddered. The trees were starting to thin and were taller now. I stopped to hide behind one of the thicker trees to give myself an opportunity to catch my breath before I passed out. I seemed to have a habit of doing that.

My head spun in dizzy spells as I sunk my back into the trunk of the tree, the silk robe clinging onto my waist by the double knot. Actually, it was barely clinging, the branches had torn the fucking thing to near shreds, but at least my boobs and ass were covered. The sides of my belly, thighs, and arms were covered in little pink grazes from the branches.

I blew out a liberated breath. No sounds were nearby other than the thumps of my heart in my brain. Proof that I was a long way from where I ran from. And even further away from where I was going. North, South, East or West-, it didn't matter, I was lost. Terrified, bleeding, and alone.

I clung to the tree for a long while, and my eyes adjusted to the darkness, only just enough to see my hand in front of me and the silhouettes of gloomy trees. And the shadows of fog between them. The thumps in my brain finally faded, and I could make sense of the acoustics around me, only hearing the odd hoot from an owl, a faint breeze howling in the branches, and a croak from a frog. I frowned. Where there were frogs, there was water.

I listened again, tucking some stray hair behind my ear. The faint ripple of water from condensation dripped higher above. I turned in a circle, spinning around to see my surroundings, squinting my eye at the distant thin of trees. It was a lake.

Chills ran through my body, making me shudder. The same chill that ran through my core whenever he was near. A distant noise caught my attention, static and muffled like a drone. A whisper in the distance like the ones you heard in a scary movie. My heart skipped a beat as I focused on the words, realizing it was a feminine voice coming from the lake. It was slow and washed out, a breath between each word.

"Give"

"her"

"to"

"me"

My throat narrowed again, and a stick somewhere near me snapped. My breath fell from my lips, and my heart practically sunk into the ground. Choking on my own breath as I pushed myself harder against the tree, my eyes darted left to right to find a shadow or change of scenery moving across my line of sight. But, I couldn't see anything.

A crack of squished branches and leaves sounded behind me, followed by another, but somewhere in front of me. Either he moved quick or there was more than one person looking for me. I had to hold my hand over my mouth to mute the sounds of my pants and sobs, tears rolling down my cheeks relentlessly. Paralysed in fear.

My brain ran a horror film, I was going to die like the others did. Like the note said. Like Damon said. Shivering hard against the tree, I regretted escaping. My death might have gone faster if I hadn't, and I held no doubt that my death would be slow and painful as punishment. I blinked to clear my clouded vision from the tears. I screamed, loud, and it echoed far beyond the horizon.

Because the shadow man stood stoic between the trees, right in front of me, enveloped by a mass of fog. The theatrics he possessed were no less than the fucking Grim Reaper, a carbon copy. Just without the scythe. I fell into heavy in sobs, but he didn't move, just stood there glaring at me.

I wanted to run, but my feet wouldn't budge. All I could do was stare back. He tilted his head and suddenly a separate pair of arms band around me from my side.

I cried out again as I was thrown over a pair of shoulders, gibberish falling from my mouth. Granted, they were not words, I didn't have the capacity to form them, but I beat his back and screamed so loud my chest hurt. This earned nothing in response.

If you could feel smiles, I was feeling one burning on me. Though, I couldn't see his face, I knew the shadow man was beaming a hideous grin.

The stench of stale cigarette smoke, wet iron, faeces, and urine ripped through my nose, like a distant memory come back to haunt me. It was cold, damp, and dark. The sound of water continued to drip onto the concrete floor from somewhere, though it sounded a little too thick to be water. Who was I kidding? It was blood. My half-naked body ached as I laid on the concrete curled into a ball, sobbing.

I had tender muscles from my cardio encounter, and I felt like I had been here for hours, dumped back in the cage I was thrown in when I first got here. My head thumped for some reason, right at the same spot I hit at the bar.

I rubbed at it, a fresh lump over the existing one. I heard a door squeaking open, followed by two, maybe three sets of footsteps and deep whispered voices. A dimly lit candle followed the heavy footsteps before stopping at the gate of the cage. A man stood at the rusty cast iron bars and looped his fingers around one. It was the masculine one that carried me here, wearing the same black fabric mask.I gulped, hard.

"Ahh, she's awake." His muffled voice echoed against the chilling concrete walls of my cell. Awake? Was I asleep? A memory trailed over my brain. Someone had hit my head with something hard, knocking me unconscious. That explains the bump. Crap.

"Mmmm. Good, I'll grab the tools." Another voice called, sounding quite pleased. I knew that wiseass voice anywhere. It was Damon. The fucker. Wait, tools? My mouth dried. Punishment. The buff guy veered off, taking the candle with him, along with my visibility. And another pair of boots stopped at the opening. At first, I assumed it was Damon, because the silhouette was tall, but it wasn't. It was the shadow man.

Fuck, the whole gang was here. Minus Caine and Ruby.

His mask was as terrifying as ever, no different to any other time. He opened the door and stepped toward me, I attempted to shuffle back, but I was hard pressed against the concrete. There was no more room to push away.

"No! No, no, no." I stuttered in a cry. The buff guy returned again and put a new candle on the other side of my cage, and they both stepped closer. They studied my body, something akin to hunger and anger.

I squirmed under their greed, the robe only just covering my breasts, my thighs exposed. I tucked the fabric between my legs so that my womanhood was not revealed.

The shadow man leant forward, and I flinched from his rushed movement, and he retracted his hand. Almost giving the impression of I-wasn"t-really-going-to-hurt-you, but without reading his facial expression that was hiding behind his haunting fa?ade, I couldn't be certain.

I had forgotten how small he made me feel. Even when he touched me in that way. I pushed aside at my stupid thoughts. This was not the time or place to be having those. In a mindless panic, I crawled to my left to try get away from him. It was foolish, I know. I only got a foot or two before he stood on my hair that was dragging on the ground.

"Don't do that, little one, it won't work." the muscular one threatened with a laugh, his voice playful and deep. They liked doing this to people. It was a game.

"Please, why are you doing this?" I sobbed hard. But my question was left ignored.

"Let me go!" I plead again. "Let you go? Let you go?" he growled. "Are you out of your mind? You tried to run. Why ever would we let you go now?"

"Oh God." I threw my head in my palms, curling into a ball again on my knees. Damon returned with a duffle bag. I could have passed out there and then, but miraculously, I didn't. Muscles huffed a laugh.

"You don't belong to that God anymore, little one." His ocean blue eyes shone from the grin under his mask. Little one? Fuck off.

"Get up." Damon hissed, the demand momentarily paralysing me. His vindictive, croaky snicker hit a nerve in me that I didn't like. Like I was voiceless, powerless. I imagined that he was my pillow, punching him until I made that stupid fucking smile disappear until and my knuckles bled and bruised. But something inside me knew that me hitting him would only excite him, and I curled my lip at the thought.

"GET THE FUCK UP, BITCH!" he hollered again. I scurried to my knees in attempt to get up without letting my private areas pop out anywhere under the robe. I stayed silent, unable to use my words, the lump in my throat choking my breath.

The three of them burned their stupid eyes into me.

The buff guy grabbed my arm and dragged me to a wooden chair the other end of the room. The basement was barely lit with whatever candles he had at his disposal, but I could see enough to know I wasn't alone. The girls were silent, and there was less than the last time I was in here. Which more than likely only meant one thing… they"d been killed. I wriggled violently, and the grip of his hand bruised my skin instantaneously.

"No, please!" I whimpered as he turned me around to face him, shoving me at the shoulders. I winced and collapsed onto the chair, and Damon dropped the duffle bag beside me.

"Shut up, little bitch. We're going to teach you a lesson. Make you pay for running that sweet little cunt away from us." I fitted into a sob and shivered. If I valued my life, whatever was left of it, I had to do what I was told. Not that I had a choice, since the odds were three to one. He pulled my arms back and tightened the rope firm so that my wrists twisted into each other, and my shoulder blades felt as if they were about to pull from their sockets.

I instinctively cried out and kicked from the torment. Tears burned my face, the saltiness hitting my lips. Damon grabbed a roll of duct tape from the bag and ripped a section off with his teeth, slapping it over my mouth. I was now tied, half-naked and forced to keep silent.

"Fuck, I like this." Damon moaned, pulling the stray hair from my face, and tucking it behind my ear. I sobbed underneath his bane, trying to shift away but he only followed. My legs were the only moveable limbs, but they were almost too weak to do so, as they ached from running. My body was tired, and my feet still stung.

"Now…" Damon breathed as the shadow man paced around my chair, twisting his knife in his hand. "There are punishments for naughty girls who think they can escape our prison. H, here wouldn't be too pleased if I let one of his offerings get out now, would he?" So, the shadow man was H. Briefly I wondered what his real name was. But the thought was gone as quick as it had appeared. His words tormented me. Offerings?

Offerings to who, or what? That didn't make any sense. I muttered under the tape, inaudible sounds as the shadow man's fingers brushed the base of my knee. His touch sent an electric shiver up my thigh.

Mindlessly, I kicked my legs out to shoo him away. Big mistake. He growled deeply, the same animalistic growl he did when he was in the room the other day. Shit. He moved in a flash.

I flinched as he grabbed my leg and secured my ankle to the leg of the chair with a cable tie from the bag. He pulled my other foot, lifting it to his knee. I winced from the burn behind my thigh as it stretched.

He held his other arm out to one of the men, as if to wait for something to be placed into his hand. "Glass please, Eli." Damon hissed from beside me. Eli, was the muscular man.

The shadow man's breath howled against his mask, loud and unnerving. Eli pulled out a little box from the duffle bag, one that had big and small pieces of shattered glass within. I gasped through my nose, and Damon laughed mockingly.

Eli held it open for the shadow man, and he pulled out a piece of the shattered glass. I squirmed hard beneath my bonds, but I didn't budge.

More tears came crashing down, mimicking the muted screams that I pelted against the tape. He adjusted his grip around my ankle and planted the glass against the arch of my foot.

Fuck.