Run For Me

THREE

               I jolt awake. My head pounding with a sudden migraine. It takes me a few seconds to realize where I am. Thoughts of last night run through my mind. We started drinking. I vaugley remember playing Never Have I Ever and then it's a blur – but somehow, I ended up in bed.

I slowly scan the room – my eyes pounding with the rhythm of the heartbeat in my head from the migraine. I've never blacked out. Ever. So this is a bit alarming. I swing my legs over the bed and head towards the bathroom – looking down at my feet the whole time. If I hold my head up straight, im pretty sure im going to throw up.

I reach for the doorknob to the bathroom and my hand grabs nothing but air.

"The fuck?" I say as I slowly pull my head up. The door is open, but I know it was shut prior. Or did Callie forget to close it? I make a mental note that whatever kind of tequila that was, to not ever drink it again.

I step into the bathroom and turn the shower on. I don't even consider turning the lights on. My retinas would fucking die, plus theres enough moonlight coming through the window thanks to the full moon.

Once the water is hot enough for me, I step inside and let the water run over my head. I press my hands against the glass wall to hold myself up, hoping the water running over me will help with this pounding migraine.

I close my eyes and the feeling of being watched returns. I see him standing in the doorway from the bathroom to the bedroom with an axe in his hand, but I dreamed that. Too be sure if that was actually true, I wouldn't be here right now. I'd be like the people all over the news – chopped and screwed.

I slowly pull my head from the stream of water to grab a bottle of shampoo. I lather the vanilla scented liquid through my hair – the steam allowing the scent to linger in the air. I massage the shampoo on my scalp, alleving the pain. Thankfully it helps.

I step back under the water and rinse. I wipe the water from my face and go to grab the soap, only to see there isn't any. Just a bottle of the vanilla scented shampoo. I pour some of it in my hand and lather my body. I step back under the water and rinse.

I stay here a few minutes longer, letting the heat from the water wash away anything else that I feel needs to go down the drain, but the man in the mask is embedded in my mind. I turn the water off and reach for the towel that is hanging up beside the shower door. Only for my hand again, to grab nothing.

"Okay, what the fuck?" I say to myself. I step out of the shower and go to the sink to open the cabinet underneath and grab a white towel. I dry myself off, wrap the towel around me and walk into the bedroom. My robe that I brought is still in my duffle bag, so I drop the towel and put the robe on, tying it in a nice bow in the front.

"Fuck," I say as I search the duffle bag. "I can remember to pack everything but my fucking slippers." I knew I was forgetting something. Again, another check on the list as to why we shouldn't have come here.

I open the bedroom door and head downstairs. My tongue is literally dry – another thing that hasn't ever happened before. Jordan and River are asleep on the couch. Jordan is sitting up with her head rested against the back, while River is laying on her side with her feet rested on Jordans lap.

I step into the kitchen, grab a glass and fill it with water from the sink. Well water has always tasted better to me than city water. City water taste like someone took toilet water and tried to filter it over and over. Literally tastes like shit.

Im a little over halfway of drinking the water when I start walking over to Jordan and River. What better way than to scare the shit out of someone than in the so called cursed cabin. They are always trying to pull some shit with me, so payback is a bitch.

I quietly walk behind the couch and push the back of Jordans head forward to wake her up. The glass falls from my hand and shatters as Jordans head literally falls off her body and rolls onto the floor. My heart immediately flutters trying to find a rhythm as I step backwards from the scene before me. River is covered in blood and her intestines are spilling out of her and onto the floor.

My chest heaves up and down from hyperventilating and I cant get my voice out there to scream. I take a few more steps back – my eyes not being able to look anywhere else but the horror scene in front of me. Its not until I hit a hard wall behind me, does my mouth open to scream – only followed by a hand covering my mouth to muffle the broken cry.

My body freezes when I feel my body press perfectly into the man behind me. I don't even have to ask who because I already know who it is. The man in the mask. Hot tears stream down my face as the warmth of this mans hand continues to hold me against him by my mouth.

"Please." My voice muffled by his hand. The taste of iron fills my mouth from my lips parting just barely to speak. My stomach twists knowing that it's the blood from my best friends. Im sure its pointless to beg for my life, knowing my outcome is going to be the same as my friends. But maybe if I ask nicely, he'll let me go.

But I doubt it because has that ever worked for anybody?

He leans down and I can feel his mask rub against the side of my face. He takes in a deep breath, taking in the vanilla scent that I just lathered in. My skin crawls as I feel him hardening against my ass. "Do you not like my art work?"

His voice is deep and I can feel it vibrating through me with each word. I stay quiet, not wanting to give him the wrong answer. His hand comes up to the back of my head and pulls my head back by my hair forcefully – making my back arch uncomfortably and my ass to dig even deeper against his hard cock.

"I asked you a question," he pauses, "soul snatcher." My eyes widen at my nickname rolling off his lips. The bile rises towards my throat confirming that I haven't been imagining things. He has been here the whole time.

My watery eyes find his dark brown ones. His stare back at me. If anything, this man in the mask is the soul snatcher. His piercing gaze cuts right through me.

"Y-yes," I try to get out.

He pulls on my hair even harder making new tears sting against my eyes, "Don't fucking lie to me." My bottom lip trembles from fear and pain. What the fuck am I supposed to tell this man? No?

"I d-don't know," I whisper out.

The chuckle from this man vibrates my core and causes a pulse to start between my legs. This is the last fucking thing I need.

Im not turned on.

Im not turned on.

Im not turned on.

I repeat the words over and over hoping that will level out the feeling that's starting to happen between my thighs. His piercing gaze and the mystery behind the mask doesn't help.

"You don't know?" he starts. "Let me give you some time to think then, hm? If I catch you, you better have an answer for me."

"And if you don't?" I ask before even thinking.

His laugh rolls through me again and I try my best to squeeze my thighs together. He gets even closer to my face, "Three."

Three?

"Two"

Oh fuck.

"One"

He lets go of my hair and I lunge forward and move as fast as my legs let me. The back of my head sore from his tight grip.

"Run for me Chloe because when I catch you, you're going to wish I had given you the same quick death as your friends."

His voice is barely audible from the sound of myheartbeat in my ears. My bare feet pounding into the hard dirt making what hesays even harder to make out – but I heard it. Even as low as it was, I heardit loud and clear.