10. Marlowe

Chapter 10

Marlowe

Y ou would think that I would try to escape this bedroom after Wilder left to get some sleep. But no. Part of my brain was telling me to try every window, to get up and see if he barricaded the door. Nope. What do I do? I crawl under the comforter of the big, handsome murderer’s bed. I tuck my knees to my chest and cry, my heart pounding in my chest. “Ethan,” I wail as if he can hear me from whatever plane of existence he is now on. “I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

I let the sound of my crying lull me to sleep, hoping that it had all just been a nightmare and that when I wake up, everything would be back to the way it was.

A chill hits my skin and I bolt upright. While I slept, I kicked the comforter off of me, leaving my entire lower half exposed. The room’s door is wide open, and a box fan near the bed circulates with muggy air. My eyes stay glued to the open door as I shift to sit on the edge of the bed, letting my feet touch the hardwood floor. Silently, I rise and creep towards the door, listening intently for their presence.

Muffled voices from downstairs alert me to where they are. I glance down the hallway and notice another set of stairs. I tremble as I creep down the hall to the other set of stairs, praying I don’t make a sound. My breaths come out in short bursts as I step onto the first step. I look back over my shoulder and nothing. Downstairs, there is a sitting room, the foyer, and the front door in sight.

Just go! Run fast and don’t look back.

I summon whatever courage I have and sprint down the stairs, two steps at a time. The sound of my feet thumping as I go down. My feet hit the main floor and I ran toward the door. As I reach the front door, my heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I fumble for the doorknob, my hands trembling with fear and anticipation. The voices from the kitchen grow louder, urging me to hurry. With a desperate twist, the door swings open, revealing the darkness outside.

I sprint into the night, my feet pounding against the dirt. Every step propels me further away from the danger that lurks behind me. I resist the urge to glance back, knowing that it would only slow me down and fuel my fear.

The cool night air rushes past me, providing a small sense of relief from the suffocating humidity inside. I push myself to run faster, my mind focused solely on escaping this nightmare. Thoughts of safety and freedom fuel me, pushing me to my limits.

As I sprint through the trees, I can still hear faint echoes of their voices behind me. They are close, too close for comfort. Panic grips me, urging me to run even faster, to find a place where I can hide.

I scan my surroundings, searching for any sign of someplace to hide. In the distance, I spot a dirt and gravel road, a beacon of hope in the darkness. With renewed vigor, I head towards it.

“Marlowe,” their voices call out to me, in an almost playful drawl.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck!” I do the stupidest thing and glance over my shoulder. Two ominous shadows are in the distance and closing in fast.

I crouch behind a thick tree trunk, desperately trying to catch my breath and regain my composure. Silence surrounds me, broken only by the sound of my labored breathing. I listen, straining my ears for any sign of where they could be. Minutes pass, but there is no sign of them. Maybe I’ve escaped their grasp, at least for now.

Feeling a brief sense of relief, it fades when I hear the crunching of rocks. I cover my mouth with my hand, hoping to mask the sound of my breathing.

“Come out, chére,” Ollie croons. “We don’ wanna hurt ya.”

“You don’ stand a chance against us, Marlowe. We know dis forest with our eyes blindfolded.” Wilder whispers, as if he knows that I’m close.

“Chére, it’s dangerous out ‘ere. Dere be snakes dat can kill ya. Gators if you make it to da swamps. Come on now. Be a good girl,” Ollie says, coaxing me to draw me out of my hiding spot.

“You’re gonna hurt me,” I whisper, closing my eyes feeling the tears run down my cheeks.

“It’s gon be da good kinda hurt, chére. It’ll hurt, but it’ll make you feel good too,” Wilder whispers in my ear.

Both of them box me in against the tree trunk. The predators have caught their prey, and now they intend to play with me before they devour me. The fear and desperation sinks in. I can’t let them take me, can’t let them have their way with me. With a renewed sense of determination, I push myself away from the tree trunk and start running again. The adrenaline fuels my every movement as I navigate through the dense forest, my heart pounding in my chest.

Branches whip against my skin, leaving stinging marks, but I ignore the pain. I need to find a way to escape. The distant sound of a rushing river catches my attention and I change course, hoping to lose them in the water. As I approach the riverbank, I can hear rushing water growing louder, a symphony drowning out the echoes of their voices.

Without hesitation, I plunge into the cold, rushing water, the force of the current tugging at my body. I fight against it, swimming with all my strength. The water provides a temporary barrier, shielding me from their pursuit. I swim until I can no longer feel the ground beneath me until I am certain they won’t be able to follow.

Gasping for breath, I emerge on the other side of the river, my clothes soaked and clinging to my body. I take a moment to catch my breath and assess my surroundings. I find myself in a dense thicket; the foliage providing some much-needed cover. I crouch down, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.

As the minutes tick by, I can still hear their voices in the distance, growing fainter with each passing moment. Are they that far away, or is it the sound of the river playing tricks on me? Gathering my strength, I push through the thicket, moving deeper into the forest. I keep my senses sharp, listening for any sign of civilization.

After what feels like hours of walking, I finally stumble upon a dirt road. It stretches out before me, offering a glimmer of hope. “Oh thank god,” I mumble. Relief floods through me. I break into a jog, hoping this leads me to the main road. Up ahead, the road ends. “No…no.” I cry out. Before me is a large pit of muddy brown water that runs through the trees. The swamps. I look up and down the bank, seeing how far it goes down. Maybe I can hide out here?

The soaking wet shirt clings to my skin and even though it’s hot and muggy out, a shiver raises goosebumps across my skin. The hissing interrupts the sound of my heavy breathing from behind me. My body trembles as I slowly turn around and come face to face with a large alligator. “Oh shit,” I whisper. “Fuck, what the fuck?” I inch backward toward the way I came. The sound of twigs snapping behind me doesn’t even register as I keep my eyes on the beast in front of me.

“We done told you dere was gators out ‘ere, chére. Guess you jus had ta go find one for yourself.” Wilder chuckles.

“What do I do?” I whisper, not looking away from the teeth that are snapping in front of me.

“We should let it eat ya for runnin’.” Ollie snaps.

“Please,” I step backward toward the sound of their voices. “Please don’t let it eat me. I don’t wanna die.” The gator moves toward me, hissing and snapping its jaws. “I’ll go…I’ll go with you back to the house. Please, I swear I’ll be good. Just don’t let it eat me.”