The Man Of Little Words (Thomas Hewitt x Reader)

Chapter 10

        During the night I tossed and turned. I woke up several times due to the anxiety, each time I checked the clock... 10, 11:20, 1, 2:30, 3, 4, 5:40 then finally 6. If my plan was to happen it needed to happen now. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, gathered up any of my belongings then reached my hand under the pillow and pulled the knife out. My fingers shook as I held it. Having memorized all the creaky spots in the floors I made my descent down to the first floor. As I stepped off the last step, I looked around and listened for any sign of life. I heard snoring which was a good sign for me. I crept out the front door, my heart thumping loud in my chest then I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. My heart sank when I heard the voice, "Going somewhere?" The voice asked sounding amused. I didn't have to look to know it was Hoyt, I didn't hesitate and started running, jumping down the porch steps. As I ran down the driveway I could hear Hoyt yell for Thomas. I ran as quickly as possible watching for traps or anything else that may get in the way of my escape. I heard the door rip open, slamming against the side of the house. That made my heart jump but made me pick up the pace. I could hear the loud, heavy footsteps belonging to the giant as he chased me. I already had a good bit of distance between the two of us.

        I had reached the end of the driveway and continued my sprint in the direction Hoyt had brought me from my first night. The morning dew shone on the field's vegetation, each one glinting as I ran past. The drops reminded me of eyes, like hundreds of eyes from the souls that were damned to that house; begging me to get away. I glanced back to see if Thomas was in view, thankfully he wasn't. Taking my chance I dove from the road and into the field, I ran away from the road wanting to get a good distance incase Hoyt tried to follow me in a vehicle. As I ran through the field, the tall grass sliced my exposed skin; my arms, legs, face, hands, and neck. As long as I was feeling something even if it was pain, I knew I was still alive. I was still breathing, I needed to keep going to keep the life I held so dear.

        My running lasted for what felt like an eternity until I finally reached a clearing in the field... Not necessarily clear as the grass was down to my waist but at least it wasn't above my head anymore. I noticed a building, a very very small shed like building that was probably used as some kind of storehouse from whoever had owned the property before the whole town went to shit. I decided it would be best to rest inside for a while at least for an hour or two. Chances are they'd either pass where I cut into or they'd search the outskirts of the road. Most of the land was wet due to over cultivation which meant my shoes and feet were soaked causing me slight discomfort from the blisters that were forming. I looked around the shack, everything had already been taken from it and the building was left to be reclaimed by mother nature. I went to the farthest corner from the door and took the knife out from my belt and set it down in the spot where I'd be hunkered down at. I took my shirt off and started to dry my wet footprints off the concrete floor so if I was found it'd still take them a second to realize I was in there. Still my heart rate stayed the same, frantic. I was ready at any given moment to make a move. All senses were fight or flight, my brain stayed in the in-between unsure of which side to pick.

        As I waited, the silence became deafening. Every little movement from the outside of the shack made my hairs stand on end as if they wanted to escape the predicament worse than I did. I watched as the sky grew darker, the blue had turned to orange and the sun hung low like the branches on a willow tree. I had rested my head against the bricks behind me and let a shaky breath leave my lips. The only constant noise I could hear for hours was the sound of the wind brushing through the grass, the tips made a symphony of calmness..... Until I heard the sound of footsteps.... Heavy, hard footsteps. My chest rose and fell faster and faster with each step. I gripped tightly to the handle of the knife, my only source of protection besides my own fighting force. I clasped my free hand over my mouth to stifle the broken air that forcefully escaped my nose. I saw the sunlight disappear from the cracks in the door, someone or something was standing on the opposite side of it. My knuckles turned white due to the amount of grip pressure I was giving the handle of the knife. And then the door creaked open slowly. My security has been compromised and I was now a sitting duck in open water. A large and familiar boot hit the stone platform then my heart sank, at least one of us was gonna get out of here alive and I was damn sure it's gonna be me but for now I was silent as he hadn't heard or seen me yet. He moved carefully as he entered the shack fully, scanning for me.... And then he saw me huddled in the corner farthest from the door. I could only imagine how a rabbit felt after it had been spotted by a wolf, if that alone had a term besides the word mortified I was feeling and experiencing it. His eyes had gotten wide as if he was surprised to have found me but he didn't even blink before he started taking hasty steps towards me, almost tripping over his own feet. That's when I stood prepared to stand the ground that had seemed so solid before his appearance now turned to a metaphorical pit of quick sand where each move could be my last. I hadn't wanted nor ever wanted to hurt him but now that he quite literally stood in the doorway of me and freedom it was time to cut the oak tree of a man down. "Thomas, I don't want to hurt you. It's time for me to leave." I had the knife close to my side ready to draw it up at any second whether it be to keep distance or to defend. My brows had furrowed together as I kept my eyes locked on his and that was when I seen the surprise turn to rage. He charged at me leaving me little to no time to react, my hand had followed the plan my brain had etched out hours before hand and shot up. Drawing a clean, deep gash into Thomas' arm. My ear drums felt like they were getting stabbed when I heard a pained shriek explode from behind Thomas's mask. I slammed my shoulder into his chest and started to run past him until I was halted by his fingers hooked into my hair, yanking me back. Slamming my back against the wall made me gasp for air and cough. I was thankful my head hadn't hit the wall but unthankful simultaneously due to the fact his hand was used as the buffer between my skull and the bricks. His injured arm had raised, the blood flowed down to his elbow in a steady stream as he then ripped the blade from my own hand and threw it to the side of the room. Tears gathered in my eyes creating a blurred image of him, regardless of the sight impairment I could still make out the expression he was making, it was hurt. Not a physical hurt but an emotional and mental hurt like he had been betrayed. I felt remorse for him but my need to be free outweighed my sympathy, I drove my knee into his shin which had earned me a pained groan from him. "Just let me go, damnit!" I screamed and sobbed as he ignored my pleads. He had ripped me from the wall and threw me over his shoulder then locked his arm in firmly on the bend of my knees. As he turned to the door of the building I beat my fists against his back and wiggled my body trying to squirm from his death grip. He had carried me through the field and back to the road. My screaming, kicking, and hitting didn't cease throughout the journey back to the prison disguised as a home. I watched the surroundings as he carried me back, his shoulder was hard and uncomfortable against my stomach. My heart was broken along with my spirit. I could feel a ping of hopelessness creeping up into the back of my mind as I stared down at the ground, giving up on fighting when I realized the ground he was walking on now was the driveway leading to the house. I could hear Hoyt's teeth grinding laugh from the porch, "Good boy, Tommy! Bitch gotcha good didn' she?" He praised then scoffed, I assumed he was referring to the wound. Thomas continued up the steps, then to the inside, up to the second floor and to the room where I had been staying before. He threw me on the bed, the head board had been accessorized with shackles and chains. He wasted no time to get me pinned down despite my struggling. It was very few quick movements and little effort for him to get my wrists locked in the cold metal restraints. I could deny no longer that this was something he was very used to doing. He arose from the bed and stared down at me like a puppy that had been kicked. He turned his back to me and made his way to the door. His hand wrapped around the doorknob then he paused and looked back at me one last time before leaving. I knew nothing of what was to happen next but what I did know was I was back in hell and all the demon's focus was on me.