Insanity // J.Valeska

Part Eleven: The Chase

The blood was pounding in her ears, whizzing through her veins like a bullet train as her heart beat angrily in order to keep up with her thrashing movements. She had to get away.

Her head start had already ended, yet Jerome was not pursuing her. No instead, he was leaning casually against a flickering lamp post, his lips squished together as he whistled a creepy tune. Having caught her stare, he flashed her a saucy wink and an evil grin, before the lightbulb in the lamp flickered off for a few seconds. When it eventually flipped back on, the sight made Steph stop dead in her tracks; the spot that Jerome had occupied not even a second ago was empty, no trace or sign that he'd ever been there.

Steph's breath caught; he was coming after her now. The game had officially begun now.

Steph spun on her heel and continued her run in the opposite direction, her senses on high alert and her brain in turmoil.

******

Steph swerved right, cutting across the empty street and ducking into a rather daunting alleyway. Despite her phobia of small, cramped places, she had a plan, and luckily this particular alley heeded her idea.

Huffing a deep breath, Steph pumped her legs faster, her feet aching tremendously from running so hard in heels, and she propelled herself forward. She mentally thanked her mother for constantly making her wear heels; who would've thought it would help her so much?

Bending her legs slightly, she leapt off the ground, reaching upward and latching onto the suspended ladder of a fire escape. Steph hauled herself up with all the strength she possessed, and managed to get a better grip on the slippery, rusted rungs.

Unfortunately, as her feet were dangling at least six feet in the air, the heel of her shoes began to slide off her feet. Steph attempted to readjust the shoes while suspended but to no avail; her beautiful red stilettos fell to the concrete below her with a muffled crash.

Frowning at her fallen comrades, Steph continued her climb up the ladder, and when she reached the next section of the ladder, scooted her  weight to one side. Steph fiddled with the cup of her bra while doing her best to hold on tight to the rungs, producing the shiny switchblade Jerome had handed her previously. Steph flipped the blade open and - cautiously- she began to attempt to dislodge half of the ladder from the rest, so as further throw Jerome off her trail.

Cursing as she accidentally jabbed her palm, Steph fiddled and twisted the sharp blade, until at long last, the bolt came free. Steph precariously shifted her weight as she dislodged the other bolt, and barely had time to latch back onto  the ladder before part of it went crashing to the ground.

The sound was loud and would surely give her away, however it did give her an advantage; Jerome couldn't follow her up the ladder should he catch sight of her. Sighing to herself, Steph made quick time of ascending the remainder rungs, going all the way to the rooftop.

As she stumbled to the edge of the roof, Steph slowly stood up, the wind much more intense at a higher altitude. Despite the biting chill, she did not shiver - her blood was pumping too hot in her veins. Like she was overheating from the inside out.

However, as the wind whipped and slashed at her golden tresses, Steph took a closer look at the knife clutched in her palm. She knew she shouldn't, but it was a risk she just couldn't afford to take. She had to outsmart a psychopath.

Steph carefully used the blade to cut a slit on either side of her dress to permit better movement. Then she straightened, examining the knife once more. Clutching the knife even tighter, Steph whirled her arm back, being hurtling it forwards, letting the knife in her grasp spring free. She watched it as if in slow motion, an odd sense of clarity settling upon her.