The Artess

3. The Ski Mask

Song Of The Chapter - Arsonist's Lullaby - Hozier , Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde

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Carmen

I couldn't hold it together any longer. My shoulders began to shake as I sobbed quietly to myself. There was no use in screaming out for help. The streets were barren, so deserted I could hear the change of the traffic lights. And besides, if anyone was out there I wouldn't want to include them in this dangerous situation only to get hurt trying to help someone who's already going to die.

The heaviness of my tears tickled down my cheeks landing on my already soiled shirt. I brought my hand up to my eyes, trying to clear my already soupy vision.

Demanding myself to control my ragged breathing, I swallowed hard feeling the frog dying down my throat. I know any second that man would walk around the edge of the building, and I would finally meet death.

I scanned my surroundings looking for a way out, anything like a ladder or boxes I could stack together. But nothing, absolutely nothing.

The slamming of the new guy's biker boots was enough to send me into turmoil. I crouch down against the darkest part of the alley, corning myself. My hands frantically graze the damp ground in search of a weapon. My fingertips scratch something wet and furry. I bite my lip holding in a howl; my stomach churns as the ideas as to what that rodent could've looked like displayed itself inside my imagination. Fortunately, it ignores me and scampers away.

Finally, I find a piece of metal sharp enough to cut skin. I pick it up, clutching it to my chest. I return to my original crouching position, well, more like fetal position - tugging my thighs as close to my chest as possible.

The clanging of his boots grew louder and louder, until he finally reached the opening of the alley. His deep voice rolled across the walls,

"I can see you and the weapon in your hand, so I highly recommend you drop it before I take out my pocket knife and we do some dancing, yeah?"
I didn't drop it, I couldn't, because it was the only solid chance I had at surviving.

"Listen, I'm not here to smooth talk you into doing what I want." His voice growing impatient, "So cut the fucken bullshit and do as I say."

"I'm not doing anything." I retaliated, gaining some confidence. I straighten my body standing upright.

His boots stomp loudly on the ground below us, obviously creating an emphasis of his growing anger. His hood flopping as he covered the distance between us. Stopping a few feet away, he stood with his legs shoulder width apart.

His skillful hands tug down the zipper of his hoodie. Exposing a vest full of jack knives, ninja stars, metal chains... guns.

My mouth fell open. My muscles never contracted like authors write about, but loosened. Causing the metal object to fall from my grip. His eyes followed the metallic piece as it descended a short distance. 

He too looked like he has done this a thousand times. He was bored - twiddling his thumbs, he stood there watching the colour and warmth drain from my face.

I look down at the metal object, it lays just beside my feet. If I'm quick enough, I could pick it up and lunge at him before he can even comprehend what had happened.

"Don't even think about it." He rushes at me. I duck just as he reaches the wall in which my back was pressed up against. I quickly pick up the metal object, diving in between his legs making sure to dig the metal straight through his inner left leg. I was breathless. My own actions had surprised me, displaying levels I didn't even know I could reach.

But the man didn't even flinch, almost as if a metal object didn't just penetrate through the top layers of his own skin. 

I look behind me, seeing the light at the end of the alley like it was calling out to me. Maybe I should have just made a run for it.

The man's shoulders slowly moved away from the wall, his boots pivoting in my direction. The hood of his sweater had dropped down. But no new skin exposed itself because a ski-mask capped his features. Covering the very features I would need to see in order to describe him to the police when I escaped, alive.

And then I remembered. All those Netflix binges of CSI and Criminal Minds seemed to finally work in my favor.

"You're not going to kill me." My shoulders relaxed a little. Internally, I sighed the biggest sigh of relief ever.

He narrowed his eyes, smirking he responded,

"What makes you think that." His eyes narrowed as his head contorted to the side. He was interested.

"B-because you're wearing a ski mask." There was a pause before his laughter broke out. It was sinister, the type of laugh that could not be heard even from the evilest of villains.

"S-so, just because I'm wearing a s-ski mask," He lurched forward slapping his knee. Then he fell serious. "You think I'm not going to kill you? You're funny." His hand traveled up past his loaded vest, up to his face. His finger tips grabbing the thin fabric and pulling it over his face.

"Take a good look you little priss. You see this," He pointed to a spot just below his nose. "Some whore couldn't keep her mouth shut long enough, so you know what I did? I had my fun with her, and then I chopped her up. Piece by fucken piece." His finger rubbed the area of the freshly formed scar. "I got so caught up in the whole process I ended up slicing myself."

He suddenly lurched forward slapping my body against the hard wall behind us. The man's hand tangled itself into my hair. "I'd love to slip in between your legs dearie, but I'm afraid we don't have time for that." My lip twitched in disgust. I tried to shake him off of me but his other hand reached into his jacket, bringing out a handgun. "Now drop whatever it is that is in your hand. That's the last warning." He released the safety on the gun in front of my eyes, cocking it, and placing it underneath my chin. 

Clang.

My heart was beating so fast I could feel the pulse at my temples. I felt like I was in a state of paralysis, I was completely unable to move.
Although my brain was signaling my legs to make a run for it, I couldn't. My legs felt heavier than cement blocks.

"Why the small talk." I tried swallowing to ease my dry mouth, but it felt like a ball of nails scratching its way down. "You may as well just kill me."

The man's grip on my hair tightened, balling hairs in the process. Forcing my head closer to him, he pulled on my hair bringing my face so close to his I could feel his breath run down my neck. His lips almost directly on top of mine. "Because Kason would have my balls hung."

"Who's -" The man pulled harder on my hair, digging his fingernails into my scalp.

"STO -" His wrist turned, forcing my head into the cement wall. A metallic taste filled my mouth and a pounding vibrated inside my skull. My vision blurred before everything clouded over.