THEIR CAPTIVE

CHAPTER 8

The snow and woods are just a mere blur on my vision as I ran and ran and ran. My legs are uncontrollably pumping underneath me, putting as much distance between me and the predator hot on my heels.

I can hear the crunch of snow with each of his heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.

Due to my small figure, I'm forced to weave the thick pile of snow, gravely slowing me down and putting me at dire disadvantage.

I lost count on how many times I stumbled but that didn't deter me from fleeing.
Instead, it encouraged me to go faster.

My pants fogged in front of me, the snow continuously dusting the big coat I wore. My feet are freezing and my hands began to numb with the cold.

I should've worn those damn shoes.

"Run, myshka. Run as far as you can and pray that I will not catch you" he growled somewhere behind me and the sound had a chill settling on my spine.

Here, below the shelter of the pine woods, the sun is almost non-existent. My breath hitched with every shadow on my peripheral vision, thinking that he had gotten to me.

The sight of those human skin just resting on that fridge for trophy...

Just what kind of sadistic fuck would do that?

Suddenly, his footsteps stopped and averted in another direction.

I didn't dare to look behind me to investigate and just carried on, fearing that the distraction will earn me my capture.

By the time I do, he was gone.

My burning feet paused and I stood there in the middle of the woods, wandering where my predator went.

The woods are unnervingly silent, that all I could hear was the thunder of my heart and my labored breaths. Panting harshly with every exhale.

Even with the thick coat, chills settled on my bones, coupled with the terror slithering down my spine.

It isn't the torture I fear, nor death but the shame of betraying my flag again when they'll put their hands on me and instead of fighting back like any normal person will do, their aggression will make me wet instead.

When did I become this fucked up?

Because it's been mere hours and yet they got me questioning everything already. My sanity. My fucking morals. Me.

The sudden sound of a branch snapping gave me a signal where my hunter lurks. This feels similar to what had happened before my capture so I didn't waste a second and ran to the opposite direction.

My lungs are burning and my legs ache, forcing me to slow down and take a moment to steady myself. My head frantically swiveled around, all my senses sharp and heightened with the chase.

Another movement.

Ahead is more mounds of snow and I know I need to change tactics before my energy is spent and he'll easily catch me. I spotted the largest bark and hid behind the pine, praying that the trunk will cover me.

I clamped my mouth shut to mask my wheezing, making myself small as possible when an eerie whistle penetrated the silence of the woods.

The tune is slow but downright creepy.

It's a taunt, to spike my terror to the highest level and it's working. A full body shudder racked me, aware that he is toying with me.

The whistle sounded again, this time closer.

I clutched my only weapon on my hand; a cake slicer. I must've dropped the hanger during my run but I braced myself, preparing for the worst. I know my limits and although I know how to defend myself, it's nearly impossible to outrun and overpower him.

The Russians are trained in combat, much worse than us. But if trying means narrow possibility of escape, then I will fight to death.

My sanity will be the cost if I'll be in their hands longer and I cannot afford that.