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"Run Rabbit Run" -Flanagan & Allen ╳
"On the farm, ev'ry Friday On the farm, it's rabbit pie day So ev'ry Friday that ever comes along I get up early and sing this little song"
╳
"You psycho!"
My shouts echoed throughout the house. As soon as I made my first move, his smile never disappearing—movements quick.
"Psycho? Psycho?" A laugh escaped his lips as he merely began to slowly walk towards me, myself taking several steps back.
"I'm simply doing God's work, sweetheart." He chuckled throughout his sentence, his arms placed outwards. "Those children? A nuisance. They didn't deserve to live anyhow. Their parents should be thanking me."
"This is why he wanted you dead. You're a murderer! You'll kill me if I don't kill you first."
An obnoxiously loud laugh left him as his void eyes met mine in a flash.
"You work for Bryan, don't you? I should've known. He's the only one hiring people like you. Though, I wonder why someone like you would be in this business." He twirled his blade around in his hand, not caring if it nicks him.
"That's none of your business. I'm being paid a lot of money to have your head." My fight or flight kept my guard up.
"Well, I'd say we fight it out, eh?"
A tune left his lips.
"Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run"
My breathing became more unsteady as he launched forwards towards me. I made an attempt to dodge his attack, his knife nicking my arm.
I muttered a swear under my breath as I hopped over the couch, grasping onto the bottle of wine sitting on the mantle above the fireplace.
"Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run"
I made a run towards him, smashing the bottle over his head with every ounce of strength that inhabited my well being.
The glass shattered—dousing his hair and clothes in the red alcohol. He nearly stumbled backwards, holding his bleeding temple.
He only smiled, his chipped tooth showing in his disturbingly wide grin.
"Bang, bang, bang, bang goes the farmer's gun"
I made a dash for the door, him grabbing my wrist quickly to prevent me from leaving—pressing the knife against my neck enough for it to bleed.
"You really think I'd let you go that easily?"
I writhed against him, biting the hand that attempted to cover my mouth.
I broke away from him, noticing the trail of the crimson liquid that trickled down from his mouth—a cherry mixture of blood and the red wine.
He wiped the trail away, blood staining his hands as he gripped the knife tighter until his knuckles turned white. His hands looked as if they've been put through war themselves, his tendons almost crooked. Scars littered his hands from God knows what, veins slightly popping out from how hard he gripped the knife.
I understood getting out of this situation would be hell on earth, my eyes meeting his.
"Come a little closer, honey. I have something to show you." His words rang out as he stepped forward. I took a necessary amount of steps back, making a beeline towards the door.
A breath of fresh air could wait, my only priority being to escape that he'll hole of a house. The wind felt relieving as I ran. And ran. And ran.
My legs carried me as fast as humanly possible down the sidewalk in the night air, my slashed arm and pounding head absolutely killing me in that moment.
He didn't run after me.
Because he knows I can't tell the police what happened and who he is.
