The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting playful shadows on the ground as I sat outside, wrapped in my soft red blanket. It enveloped me like a warm hug, but it couldn't quite shield me from the chill gnawing at my insides. My German Shepherd, Max, frolicked in the yard, his joy infectious as he chased after leaves and barked at squirrels. I tried to match his enthusiasm, but the emptiness within me weighed heavily, dulling my senses.
Boredom gnawed at me like a hungry beast, so I picked up my phone and called Billie, hoping his presence would shatter the monotony of my day. An hour later, he pulled into my driveway, his expression a mask of annoyance. I couldn't tell if it was aimed at me or something else, but before I could ask, he opened the door and gestured for me to get in.
As we sped down Highway 60, the trees blurred past in a wash of green and brown, and an unsettling feeling crawled up my spine. Billie's jaw was clenched, his hands tight on the wheel, the tension radiating from him like heat from a furnace. A wave of anxiety washed over me as I tried to read his mood. Where was he taking me? Panic bubbled beneath my skin, and every instinct screamed for escape.
The car felt like a cage, the air thick with tension. As we drove deeper into the wilderness, the landscape transformed into an unwelcoming blur, devoid of familiar landmarks. I glanced at Billie, searching for a sign that everything was okay, but his eyes remained fixed ahead, a storm brewing behind them. My heart raced, each beat echoing my urge to flee. I reached for the door handle, adrenaline surging through my veins. This could save me or lead to my demise.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and leapt out. The world spun around me, the pavement rushing up to meet me as I hit the ground hard. Pain shot through my body, but I couldn't afford to dwell on it. I just had to run. I sprang to my feet, propelled by sheer instinct, and took off into the unknown, the sound of Billie's voice—loud, angry, and almost animalistic—echoing behind me.
"Isabelle Rose Woods! Get back here!"
I didn't listen. I couldn't. I ran, my feet pounding against the asphalt, my lungs burning with each breath. Panic blurred my vision, and soon everything around me started to fade. The trees transformed into a dark mass, the forest closing in around me. My mind screamed for clarity. Was I dying? What would happen to me? Who would come looking for me?
In that moment, a gut feeling pierced through my panic, sharper than the fear that clouded my mind. I was in danger. The instinctive knowledge sent a shiver down my spine, tightening my chest like a vise. I pushed myself harder, each stride fueled by desperation, but I could feel Billie closing the distance between us, his presence looming behind me like a shadow.
Then came the sharp pain in my shoulder, a thunderous bang that echoed through my body. It felt as if the world itself had shattered around me. I fell, the ground rushing up to meet me, and the world began to tilt. Pain radiated through my body, pulling me into a suffocating darkness.
But the chaos still lingered in my ears. I could hear him, Billie's ragged breaths and footsteps pounding against the ground as he rushed toward me.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Isabelle!" His voice broke through the darkness, laced with a chilling mixture of urgency and something darker—an unsettling hint of satisfaction that sent another wave of terror crashing over me.
As he lifted my limp body, I realized he wasn't afraid. No, he was exhilarated, almost reveling in the control he wielded over me. The last thing I heard before everything went silent was his frantic pleas, but beneath them, I sensed a disturbing joy, a twisted thrill in the hunt. As he carried me back to his car, the realization settled in like a stone in my stomach: I was not just a victim in this game; I was a pawn in his perverse satisfaction.
