Pattern

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty Four

// Prudence //

When I came to, it was dark. The smell hit me, and I felt like vomiting. I tried to move, but my hands were tied together in front of me, and my ankles tied together, both with duct tape. Worst of all, there was a cloth gagging me, making it difficult to breathe. I attempted making some kind of sound, but it just came out as whimpering, so I stopped.

I could feel my hands shaking. A lot of me wanted to jam my eyes shut and float back into unconsciousness, pretend this was all a bad dream, that I'd wake up on Tuesday morning, and I'd walk to school with Madi and Avery, and we'd talk and laugh and worry about what would happen today.

I don't think I ever really considered the possibility that I'd be next, not properly, even though Avery and my dad had warned me. And now that I was, I had no idea what to do. I didn't want to sit here and wait until the killer came along, with whatever sick ideas he had in his head.

I didn't want to die. I had a lot to live for, too much to lose. And maybe I wouldn't, maybe I'd survive this, but what evidence did they have? How was my dad going to find me when I still had no idea where I was? How was Avery going to figure it out without me?

I heard a creak, and a distance away, there was light, which filled the whole room. I let out a shaky breath.

The walls were dirty, grimy, like a cave, and decorated with blood. My school bag was sitting a few yards away - along with three more. I could feel the panic rising in my chest, the desperation.

A figure walked down the steps, and I finally saw his face. But I didn't recognise him. I'd never seen him before, not out shopping, or in the park, or anywhere. How was I supposed to catch someone I didn't know?

He looked about forty, and his eyes were sunken into his face. But he appeared normal. He didn't look like a psychopath - but then again, psychopaths rarely did. I doubt there was a definition for what they were supposed to look like. His eyes rested on me, and I shivered, chills running down my back. He turned on a light switch, and shut the door letting the light in. I presumed I was in the basement of some house, but I didn't know anything for definite.

"Hello, Prudence," He said, in a low voice. How horror movie-esque. I wanted to give him a smart reply, but my mouth was gagged, and even if it wasn't, I'd probably be too scared. I just looked at him, terrified.

He pulled a chair from the corner, and sat on it, in front of me, his eyes on me the whole time. He leaned down, and I flinched as he tore off the duct tape. "You can scream for help all you like," He said. "No-one will hear. And you should probably save your voice."

I swallowed. Everything I'd ever read had told me that when you in such a situation, you screamed. But I knew there was no point. If it was possible for anyone to hear me, the guy wouldn't give me the chance. He wasn't an idiot. So I didn't say anything - and he smirked.

"You're the first one to stay quiet. The rest of them screamed and yelled and thrashed - they annoyed me so much. You might stay alive a little longer now , though I guess that's not really a good thing. For you, anyway."

I bit my lip, not knowing if I should reply or not, or what I could say. Eventually, I did.

"Why are you doing this?" My voice was a squeak - I sounded so pitiful. I took a breath, reminding myself that I was stronger than this.

He shrugged. "You tell me."

I shivered again. He was so normal, too normal. Too calm and composed. I felt like any minute he would crack and turn into the crazy killer we all imagined him as.

"What does it have to do with Melinda Lawless?" My voice was stronger, more confident. Something flickered in his eyes, just for a second, and then he grinned again. "So you know that too? Budding Nancy Drew, are you?"

"It was pretty obvious," I blurted. "Leaving an envelope for her? Every girl you take has the same features of her? Carving letters of her name.." I faltered, not wanting to finish the sentence. I was referring to myself now - soon enough, I'd just be one of the dead girls.

"Well, no one else seems to have figured it out," He said. "And I don't think you're going to be telling anyone anytime soon."

"I'm not the only one," I said, growing fiercer by the second. "And what about Ms. Lawless? What if she goes to the police?"

"She won't," He replied confidently. "And care to specify? Madison Roberts, maybe?"

My eyes widened. He continued. "Or Avery Watts? He seems pretty suspicious, from what I've heard."

I nearly swore. "They have nothing to do with it."

"Oh no, it's all about you," He said, probably trying to joke. It was odd, too odd.

"So," I asked casually. "When are you going to kill me? Tomorrow, or are you going to wait a few days?"

"You're acting very calm, but I can see how scared you are," He smiled again, and it was finally starting to get creepy, rather than a pleasant conversation.

"Hold out your arms," He commanded, and I raised them awkwardly. My hands were shaking, and he took out a scissors. I closed my eyes shut - but all he did was cut the tape. I stared at him.

"You're letting me go?"

He laughed. "In your dreams, Prudence."

And then he jammed the side of the open scissors into my leg.

Even though there was no one to hear it, I screamed.

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this chapter sucks i know ugh, i was trying so hard and im not even sure if it works, do let me know ;-;