DESPERATE

31

Cyrie's heart pounded in her chest as she gasped for air. She had to get away from the drunk who was chasing her. She ran faster, putting more distance between them. The drunk stumbled behind her, his sweaty face red with anger. He cursed under his breath, amazed by her speed.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned when he saw Cyrie slow down and enter a dilapidated building. He followed her inside, his mouth sour with bile. He looked around, confused by what he saw. The walls were covered with obscene graffiti and broken glass. How foolish of her to trap herself in such a dark and silent place, he thought. He grinned wickedly, licking his lips. You're mine now.

Randall trailed behind the drunk man, keeping a few feet of distance. Why the hell had she brought them here? The building was a maze of stairs and rooms, crumbling and unstable. He suppressed a groan as he followed their footsteps. He wasn't young anymore. His muscles protested with every move. He could just pounce on the drunk and end this. But it was too risky. He didn’t want Cyrie to see him, not yet.

Cyrie glanced over her shoulder and saw the drunk. He was lagging behind, his breath ragged. She couldn't tell if he was tired or thrilled to be alone with her. The building looked eerie at night, different from during the day. She hadn't been here since she was a kid. Back then it was deserted but still intact. She used to come here to escape from her family. This was her sanctuary. She knew every room and corner by heart. She would just sit there and savor the silence and calmness, which was unlike at home. She felt safer here. She hated being around the different men her mother brought home.

The drunk scanned the darkness, hunting for the girl. "You can't hide from me, sweetie." He yelled. Fear shattered his heart when a menacing growl echoed in the shadows. He recoiled, a scream stuck in his throat. "Fuck." His hand had touched something furry. What the hell was that? Sweat poured down his forehead, burning his eyes. The drunk felt a sharp bite on his calf. His mind raced with horror. He forgot about Cyrie for a moment. He wanted to vomit, but he froze. A low, raspy voice said, "Say your prayers." He clutched his chest and his heart pounded like a bomb. It felt like it would burst.

Cyrie recalled the large gap in the wall that was her escape route from the abandoned building as a kid. She had heard a rowdy group of people nearing the building. She knew they meant trouble. She had to get out before they spotted her or they would hurt her badly. She darted through several rooms, until she reached the huge gap. It was eerily silent. She didn't hear the drunk behind her. Had he given up and left or was he sneaking up on her to catch her off guard? As she slipped out of the derelict building through the gap, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air.

In the dark, the drunk was frozen with fear. Someone had kicked him in the knees and made him topple over. He fell on his back and sensed someone looming over him. The person was panting hard, but he couldn't make out their face through his blurry vision.

“You're a very bad man. Why were you stalking her?” Randall snapped as he drew a small, sharp dagger from his belt.

“She was just walking home alone. I just wanted to chat with her.” The drunk stammered.

“Liar! You wanted to harm the poor girl. I've seen scumbags like you. After you're done, you would choke her to death and dump her body like trash.” Randall snarled and jabbed the drunk’s thigh.

“Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me,” the drunk man begged. “I swear I will leave her alone. I have a wife and five kids. Who will look after them if I die?”

“That's not my problem.” Randall said as he stabbed him repeatedly with the dagger. The drunk was paralyzed, his clothes soaked in his blood.

“You won't get away with this. If I bleed to death, the cops will find you and lock you up for life.” The drunk said, trying to intimidate his attacker.

Randall laughed maniacally. “This isn't my first kill and it won't be my last. Nineteen years have gone by and no one has ever caught me. I’m a master at what I do.” He circled the terrified drunk, waving the dagger at him.

The floor was slick with blood. Randall lost his footing and fell. His dagger plunged into the drunk's heart. He grinned wickedly and twisted it. The drunk let out a final gasp.

Cyrie felt a wave of relief as she escaped from the drunk. She could have fought him off, but she was too exhausted to resist. She smelled her clothes and grimaced. She reeked of the diner, her workplace. She longed for a hot shower and a soft bed. She stood on the street in front of her house. All the lights were off, which meant her mother was passed out on the couch. Her mother hated when someone turned the lights on. She whined about how the brightness made her head spin.

A sleek black car was parked near their house. It wasn't Ron's, her mother's current boyfriend. He was a deadbeat loser who only drove her mother's old gray Chevy. It had to be Liz's, their next-door neighbor's, lover.

Cyrie felt sweat trickle down her forehead and her palms grow clammy as she reached her house and saw the front door gaping open. That was not normal. Her mother always locked the door behind her, even when she was in a hurry. Could someone have broken in and harmed her mother? Or worse, could they still be inside, lying in wait for Cyrie? She shuddered at the thought, longing for the comfort of her bed and the warmth of a hot shower.

She mustered her courage and stepped into the house, hoping to find her mother safe and sound. But instead, she froze in horror at the sight of a hooded stranger sitting in the middle of their living room. The intruder was playing with a lighter, flicking it on and off with a sinister grin. She was definitely not her mother. Cyrie felt a wave of confusion. Was this even her house? She looked around and recognized all the familiar furniture and decorations. Where was her mother then? She cleared her throat, trying to sound brave. "What are you doing in my house?"

Cyrie's heart skipped a beat as the hooded person slowly turned around and faced her. Under the dim light, she could see a pair of sad eyes and a wisp of strawberry blond hair peeking out from the hood. The person was a stranger. She tilted her head slightly, as if studying Cyrie, but remained silent.

She felt a sudden jolt of fear as a firm grip clamped on her shoulder. Hot breath tickled her neck, making her shiver. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. The breath reeked of beer and rotten teeth. "Is that how you greet a guest?" a male voice sneered. He chuckled, a low and menacing sound that made Cyrie's skin crawl. The laugh dripped with malice and hatred.

Cyrie recognized the voice. It was Todd, her brother. After the nightmare she had gone through that evening, he was the last person she wanted to see in her home. She pushed his hand off her shoulder and spun around, glaring at him. "Where's Ma?" she demanded.

The woman in the hood rose from the floor and tucked the lighter into her pocket. She walked toward them and said, "We need to get her upstairs."

Todd shook his head. "Not yet. Cyrie deserves to hear the truth. Ma is not your mother. She's only mine. We have no blood ties. You were a baby when someone left you on our doorstep. Nobody wanted you, least of all Ma. She was a single mom and barely making ends meet. She had no choice but to take you in. The person who dumped you also left a note that scared her. You ruined her life. You're the reason she turned to booze and drugs."

Cyrie felt a surge of shock and disbelief. Todd's words felt like a sledgehammer to her chest. She gasped for air and tried to keep her composure. She looked him in the eye and spat out, "So that's why you've been treating me like dirt."
Todd shrugged and pulled the hooded girl closer to him. "This is Abbey, my girlfriend. Come on, let's go upstairs. Ma is expecting us in her room."

Cyrie trailed behind them, feeling numb and betrayed. They reached Ma's bedroom door. Something was wrong. The room was eerily silent. There was no sign of life, not even Ma's usual snoring.

Abbey nudged the door open. The room was engulfed in darkness. Cyrie pushed past them and flicked the switch. She stared in horror.