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I turn away
Screams. Riddling screams tore through my chest, purging the course tongue in which refused to move. I was paralyzed.
And close my heart—to the promise of love, that is luring.
All I could see was dark. Trees shuddering at me, branches quivering, whispers moving through the shadows in which lurked behind me. Stitches mended my lips shut. I tried to pull them apart, but I couldn't find my mouth. Tears caressed my cheeks, hot bitter reminders I was stuck.
I couldn't move. Instead, I was forced to stand still amongst a clearing in the woods. But these woods weren't like the ones behind my house. They were mocking me, the night sky drawing closer, a red eclipse pouring over the tree tops. I felt like I was being basked in blood—my head spinning. The world constantly swaying.
For the past has taught To not be caught, In what is not worth pursuing
I tried to call out for help, but no one could hear me. I couldn't hear me. The world here was silent, rocking, taunting me. I was alone in the darkness, stuck.
I gasped when I turned my head.
There, hiding among a thrash, eyes staring me down, a smile gracing his lips.
Lucas
"Lucas! Lucas!" He didn't come though. His smirk grew wider, and then he drew from the foliage, revealing the monster from within.
"You're not Lucas," I breathed in terror.
Dodge chuckled lowly, almost as though he was amused by my obvious confusion. My fear. I couldn't move though when he approached me. Despite all my efforts, my crying, my grunting, my desperation to be set free, something refused to have me move. I looked down—shadows were holding my ankles down, raised from the ground. Panic consumed me.
To never do the things I've done
"P-Please," I begged, the riddling fear of being here forever blanking my mind. "Please!"
Dodge was mere inches from me, his dark roving eyes drinking up my face like it was something he could appreciate. A Mural he could interpret and admire. I recoiled in disgust, my fear radiating off my like a flickering beacon. It didn't matter how much I tried to bury it. Dodge was smiling at the pleasure of my pain.
I nearly bit his hand when he reached up to my cheek, careful almost. Like I was some sort of dainty porcelain he could break any moment. I cowered from his touch, shaking my head, refusing for this to be happening. Dodge let out an infuriated grunt, gripping my chin, immobilizing my protests from within.
Dark brown eyes consumed me, relishing, glittering in marvel. Fascination almost. I knew he could feel me shaking, I knew he could see how much I hated him, but it somehow proved to be a trivial reaction.
Dodge didn't care.
And then he frowned, that it seemed rather abnormal. "If only you knew how special you were," Dodge whispered lowly, his face inches from my own. Lucas in made skin, staring me down like I was his and only his. I couldn't force myself free, and yet, I felt. . .lost. Somewhere, I could see in his eyes. . .a softness.
It was horrifying.
"Your warm skin," he stroked my cheek, his thumb rendering me speechless as it traced across my upper lip, his eyes deeply observing every feature I had, lingering the longest on my lips. I recoiled in disgust. "Your hair," he let his hands wander to touch my hair, but instead, he let his hand fall, his eyes taking in my shaking form. My hatred. "You won't hate me forever, you know."
He smiled, but what made me shiver was not because the smile was sadistic. Worse. It was almost. . .caring.
That once have led to my undoing
I gasped, my eyes flying open at the off setting blinding rage of light that poured into my—
Where the fuck was I?
That was the first panicked reaction that spurred whatever prior grogginess I felt. Dust wrinkled my nose as I took in everything around me—torn curtains, buck antlers mounted on every wooden paneled wall, couches covered in tarps and untouched furniture turned over. It was like I was in some sort of abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere. I could see trees out past one window, but everything else was dim and dinky. It smelled like mothballs and dust as I began to wheeze.
And then I finally noticed why I couldn't move—looking down, my hands were bound to a chain that was linked to a clip on the wall that was intended for bicycle racks. I quivered in realization, everything rushing back like a pungent memory.
This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't—
A click resounded in the air. I felt my knees buckle beneath me at the sight of the front door opening, except it was a busy street on the other side, French words spewing out like a symphony from a distorted film. And there, standing in the doorframe, was the one person I remembered seeing last.
The one person I hoped we would have got rid of for good.
"No," I gasped. "No, no, no, no—"
Dodge smiled prettily, a woman in place of Lucas with a paper bag with some sort of French label on the front and a thing of coffees in her hands. I continued shaking my head, the reality of where I was and who starting to settle in like a drug. I couldn't breathe. I truly couldn't breathe.
