Something Sinister • Ethan Landry

PART XVIII

Ethan had finally come around about thirty minutes later with a thumping headache, feeling as if he had to peel his eyes open to look around. It was brighter than he had adjusted to, blinking several times to work out where he was. He had gone to lift his hands to run them over his face to help his eyes adjust only he couldn't move his arms. His head dropped to his lap, he was sat on a wooden chair. One he recognised. Tugging again he realised his hands were bound behind him, tied to the back of the chair with some kind of rope. Lifting his head he took in his surroundings.

His own dormitory.

He was in his kitchen, had Chad done this? Shit. Mallory must've told Chad what he'd done and now he was here. Shaking his head he tried to think of some way to get out of this. He for a moment believed Mallory wouldn't tell, stupidly. Now he was here because of her.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped his head up. That's when he'd seen her, sitting on a chair with a knife in her hand, twisting it around while she stared ahead at him. Mallory Macher was always beautiful but right now seeing her like this, coming to terms with the fact that she had done this, she had kidnapped him and tied him to a chair and was now sat with a knife in hand. He could've sworn there and then had been when he felt himself totally fall for her. It was enough to make any man as fucked up as him fall in love. He couldn't help but smile, or smirk rather while she stood and made her way over to him. Her tartan pleated skirt snug around her waist and the white short sleeved blouse she wore fitting her perfectly, her dark brown hair now clipped back to the back of her head. God, she was perfect.

Lifting her foot and planting a rough kick to his shin just to stop the smirk growing on his face.

After grunting from her hit, "Taking justice into our own pretty hands are we?" He finally broke the silence staring up at her. Watching while she shook her head.

"You're psychotic" she practically spat at him.

He tilted his head letting out a hum, "I prefer the term sociopath" she looked utterly disgusted by him and he couldn't decided if he loved it or hated it, "I do have feelings, I can care for those around me" he confirmed watching her face soften briefly, "I choose not to"

Watching her roll her eyes and step back he took in an eyeful of the bandage wrapped around the top of her arm, an injury he had inflicted on her. It hadn't been intentional and fuck he hated himself for damaging her beautiful skin the way he had and yet, he loved the idea that it would leave a scar, a scar that would remind her of him every single time she looked at it.

"What was with your heroism?" He watched her brows crease at his question, feeling a sudden wave of anger flush him he confirmed, "why risk your life for her? For Anika? For any of them?"

Mallory stepped back, "they are my friends Ethan" she again wasn't meeting his eye, "you were too"

Were?

"I'd say we were more than just friends" she scoffed at that, "If that wasn't me there, if I wasn't the one in the costume, you'd be dead right now" he had already known she'd have sussed out he wasn't working alone, I mean she had been attacked not long before and knew it definitely hadn't been Ethan.

She scoffed once more, "what do you want Ethan? A thank you?"

He became visibly more irate while he shuffled on the seat, "no, I just need you to realise how stupid that was, you could've been killed"

Mallory looked as if she was deep in thought for a moment. As though she didn't know if she should ask what she wanted to. He couldn't quite work her out. Perhaps she didn't want an admission, she wanted to believe this were all some sick nightmare, only she was wrong. That hadn't been anything close to her thoughts. The thoughts that had been racing through her head for the past however many hours since the attack.