Prologue

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The rushing of blood to his ears and the heartbeat were the only things that he could seem to focus on as he slammed his back against the wall, hands shaking. He released what he was holding, hearing it clatter to the ground with a loud clang as the metal bounced against the wooden steps. The scream of pain jolted him into flight mode and he ran for the bedroom, grabbing some clothes and shoving them into a random bag, trying hard to ignore the screaming from down the hall. He opened the night stand next to the bed and grabbed his anxiety meds, phone charger, car keys and his pepper spray. He shoved them into the bag right on top of whatever clothes he could pack. He swiped his wallet and phone from the dresser, shoving them into his pants.

After packing, he threw on the first shoes he found, slinging the backpack over his shoulder. He stood in front of the door, his heart in his throat. His hand hovered over the metal doorknob, counting the beats until he finally got the courage and gripped it. He twisted the knob and threw the door opened, running into the hall, only to freeze in his steps. His heart dropping from his throat and into his stomach, his eyes widening. At the end of the hall, the source of his fear, anxiety and pain towered at the end of the hall, a hand over a bloody spot on his side while the other brandished the same knife that he had dropped.

He turned and ran back into the room, slamming the door as fast as he could, but it wasn't fast enough. A bloodied hand gripped the wooden door, right next to his head and the tip of a black boot wedged itself into the door, stopping him. A glint of metal shined on the dresser next to him, illuminated by the shadeless lamp that was now tipped over on its side. He craned his neck and spotted the claw of a hammer on the desk next to him. Carefully, he reached his right hand over the dresser, grazing the cold metal of the claw, but it was just barely out of reach. He knew he needed to give the door a little leeway in order to reach it, but that also meant his leverage would be gone.

He cursed, sweat beading his hairline as his fingertips swept over the claw, and that sweet feeling of freedom made up his mind for him. He leaned in, grabbing the hammer. Just as he managed to grip the rubber handle, a hard shove sent him stumbling a few steps.

Everything blurred together in the next 30 seconds.

As he stumbled, he felt hands grip his neck, slamming him against the mirror in their room. Fingernails dug into his adam's apple and shards embedded themselves into his back, making him scream. With his fist around the hammer, he vaguely registered lifting it and bringing the face of it down on the back of his head. In seconds, the man let go of him and stumbled back, looking around in a delirious state.

Wasting no time, he dropped the hammer and ran around the stumbling man and into the hall. He ran for the stairs, gasping at the bloody sight on the stairs. A small puddle on the last step where the first confrontation happened and the skid marks from dragging were on the other ones. He gulped, keeping to the right side of the stairs as he descended them. Once at the bottom, he ran to the front door, gripping the handle and throwing it open. He ran into the pouring rain, not bothering with closing the door and took off as the thunderstorm raged around him.

He ran for what felt like ages until he made it to his best friends house. Thankfully, his friend didn't ask questions and instead helped him. He knew what he needed to do, and that was to get lost in the world. With the help of his best friend, he changed his appearance, name and on that same day, left by train. He sold his car, closed his bank accounts after withdrawing all of his money and disappeared. He was going to move far away from his old life.

Little did he know, this decision and this fateful night, would twist his fate into a web of dark tales and unforgettable memories.

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