Mortis

8.

I looked about the bathroom with a racing heart. I felt cornered, like I was going to die in here. This man was going to hurt me and I'd be found here, in the hospital's bathroom.

I would never return to John's bedside.

He took one more step towards me and stopped as I jolted away from the sink.

I breathed heavily, trying to calm myself down as I eyed the door that I had come in through. It was about ten feet away, within my grasp if I was quick about it. I could make a run for it and run into the safety of the halls, with other people. Even if he did follow me, I could call for help. I'd have more room to run from him, more than this damned bathroom. If I made it out of here, my chances of survival looked good.

I braced myself, my muscles ready to take me to the door by all means necessary. I was on fire, ready to bolt in complete fear.

"I wouldn't do that, Hayden," he said watching me as if I were some reckless child. I watched him intently but he did not move, he simply gazed me with that sickening grin.

I breathed in one last time, my body tensing with anticipation.

One.

Two.

Three.

I pushed myself off the sink and sprinted the short distance to the bathroom door, slamming my body against the metal door, expecting it to swing open as my hand pressed down on the knob.

It was locked.

I turned the bolt and felt it unlock under my grasp. I pressed down again, the door did not budge.

"No, no, no," I whispered while frantically pressing on the handle. Why wouldn't it open? "It's unlocked! I don't understand!" I shrieked pushing on the unlocked door that refused to budge.

I pounded on the door and began to scream wildly, feeling my sanity slip with my back to this man. I was vulnerable and he was going to get me. I was not going to get out, not until he was done with whatever he had to do.

This was not my game, it was his.

I wasn't going to call the shots, I was going to have to play by his rules.

But my basic human instincts of survival continued to push on, begging for a way out, as if the door could hear my pleas.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE!" I screamed as tears streamed down my face and I continued to pound on the metal door with all my strength. "Please let me out!"

"No one is going to hear you," he said nonchalantly.

"SOMEONE! PLEASE!" I screamed as loud as possible. Someone was bound to hear me.

I began to sob uncontrollably because I knew, deep down, that no one was coming. I felt as if this moment were meant to happen, and there was no way this man was going to let anyone disturb it. I don't know how he made it possible, but I knew no one was going to hear me. No one was going to save me. It was time I faced my nightmare. It was about time I looked into those violet eyes and got some answers. It was time to find out what hunger and desire resided behind those beautiful and impossible eyes.

I stopped wailing and turned to him, my back pressed against the door. "What have you done to the door?"

"That door is not going to open and no one is going to hear you," he gestured to the sink in front of him, "now sit."

"What do you fucking want?! I don't even know you! Please let me out!" I screamed at him between sharp breaths.

I felt my knees collapse beneath me as I slumped against the door and slid to the ground. I wanted to get up, I wanted to fight but I knew it was pointless. I cried softly into my hands, accepting defeat as a cornered animal who had tried to escape its inevitable slaughter.