Twisted Fate || Loki Odinson

42.

"Cassie." I peer down to see Ben, Corey, and Kyle emerging from the kitchen. Corey and Kyle head toward the front door while Ben circles the counter, his eyes tired but kind. "We're heading out for the night."

"Okay, you guys have a good night," I smile, trying to mask my fatigue. 

"You gonna be okay by yourself?" Ben asks, his brow furrowing.

"I'll be fine," I nod, offering a reassuring smile. "I'm almost done with this." I gesture to the sign I've been meticulously cleaning.

"Alright, you want to lock up behind us?" he questions, his concern evident as he joins the others at the door.

"Yeah, I'll get it in a second," I respond, waving them off with a light-hearted gesture, hoping to ease their worry.

"All right, have a good night," he nods, his smile warm but tinged with the weariness of a long day.

"You too."

Corey and Kyle give quick goodbyes as the front door closes behind them, leaving me alone in the comforting silence of the empty restaurant. I direct my attention back to the sign, grabbing the spray and dampening my towel. The scent of the cleaning solution mingles with the lingering aroma of the day's cooking, creating a unique and soothing blend. 

I carefully hold the sign steady with one hand while I polish the last part of it. The rhythmic motion of cleaning calms my mind, each stroke of the cloth bringing a sense of order and completion.

Suddenly, the door jingles. 

I call out, "Did you forget something?" Turning my head, my brows furrow when I don't see anyone. The faint sound of the bell echoes, unsettling in the stillness. "Hello?" My voice bounces off the walls of the space and there's no response. "Ben? Corey? Kyle?" Still no answer. A creeping sense of unease settles in, prickling the back of my neck.

I set the spray down on the ladder, my movements cautious. Hanging the rag over the top of the ladder, I carefully climb down, my senses on high alert. I quietly step around the corner, my eyes scanning the dark dining room, every shadow seeming to shift and move in the dim light. I glance back at the kitchen doors before making my way over to them.

In the kitchen, I retrieve a knife from the knife block, the cool metal reassuring in my hand. I step back out into the dining room, my heart pounding in my chest as I walk toward the light switch. My fingers fumble slightly before flipping the lights on, the harsh glow flooding the room.

My brows furrow deeper when I see that the dining room is empty. I quietly walk through the dining room, my footsteps muffled against the floor. I check under the booths and tables, even the broom closet, but there's no one around. The emptiness feels wrong, like the calm before a storm.

Locking the front door and turning off the lights, I return to the ladder, still gripping the knife tightly. I grab the spray and the rag before climbing back down, my movements quick and precise. I fold the ladder up and drag it back into the broom closet, locking the door with a sense of finality.

I walk through the kitchen and return the knife to the block, the sound of it sliding into place oddly loud. I make my way to the locker room, the dim light casting long shadows that seem to follow me.

I pull open my locker, ready to grab my stuff and go home. But before I can reach in, a hand clamps over my mouth, stifling my gasp, while a cold blade presses against my neck. Panic surges through me, my heart racing and my breath hitching in my throat. "Shh," a voice whispers, menacing, the sound sending a cold shiver down my spine. Terror tightens around my chest and every instinct screams at me to fight or flee.

"Miss me?" Eric's voice is a cruel hiss in my ear, the stench of alcohol on his breath turning my stomach. My mind flashes back to that night in the woods-- his relentless pursuit and the sheer terror of being hunted. 

He's back.

"Let go of me," I manage to choke out, my voice muffled against his hand.

"Not a chance," he sneers, his grip tightening. "You humiliated me, Cassie. No one does that and gets away with it."

I struggle against him, my movements desperate, but he holds me firm. The knife at my neck is a constant and deadly reminder of the danger l I'm in.

"Eric, please," I plead, trying to stay calm. "You don't have to do this."

"But I want to," he says, a sick satisfaction in his tone. "I told you I'd find you again, and here we are."

My mind races, searching for a way out. 

I can't let him win, not after everything I've been through. 

The fear threatens to paralyze me, but I push it down, drawing on the strength I've fought so hard to reclaim.

With a sudden burst of determination, I stomp hard on his foot. He curses, his grip loosening just enough for me to twist away. I duck under his arm, my pulse pounding in my ears as I make a desperate dash for the kitchen.

I hear him behind me, his footsteps heavy and furious. I grab a knife from the block, whirling around to face him. "Stay back!" I shout, my voice trembling.

He stops, his eyes narrowing as he sizes me up. "You think you can scare me with that?" he scoffs, taking a step forward.

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect myself," I warn, holding the knife steady despite the fear coursing through me.

He lunges at me, and I swing the knife, the blade slicing through the air between us. He yelps, stumbling back as blood trickles from a shallow cut on his arm. "You bitch!" he snarls, clutching his wound.

"Leave now," I say, my tone cold. "Or next time, I won't miss."

His gaze darkens with rage, and I can see him calculating his next move. He charges at me, and I sidestep, using his momentum against him to shove him into the counter. The impact jars the knife from his hand, and it clatters to the floor.

But he's relentless. He swings at me with his other hand, and I duck, feeling the air whoosh past me. I come up behind him, aiming a sharp kick to the back of his knee. He drops to the ground with a pained grunt.

"Stay down," I command my voice hard.

He doesn't listen. He scrambles to his feet, eyes wild with fury. "I'll kill you!" he roars, lunging at me again.

I step back, my foot connecting with something solid. I glance down and see his knife. In one swift motion, I kick it toward the wall, out of his reach. His eyes follow the blade, and I take the opportunity to strike. I deliver a punch to his jaw, the impact sending a shockwave through my arm. He stumbles back, dazed.

"Just leave, Eric," I say, my tone steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. "It's over."

His gaze meets mine, filled with a mix of anger and something else-- fear, perhaps. For a moment, he looks like he might listen. But then he shakes his head, his face contorting with rage. "This isn't over, Cassie," he growls, backing toward the door. "I'll be back."

I watch as he stumbles out of the diner, the door slamming shut behind him. My whole body shakes with the aftermath of the encounter. I quickly lock the door, double-checking all the locks, and ensuring the diner is secure. My hands tremble as I finally grab my things from the locker, my mind reeling from the encounter. 

I need to get home, to the safety of my cabin, and tell Loki what happened. He'll know what to do.