The Dancer | Wattys2018 | COMPLETED

26 - She Was Going To Die Today

The man bolted up, grabbing Madison. 

Madison thrashed around, "Tyler! Tyler!" She screamed, trying to connect a fist with the man's face, or kick him in his knees. The Dancer, Seth Daniels, Ceth Darne.

He was taking her away. He was going to kill her.

Tyler shot up and lunged towards the man but he stopped suddenly.

The man was holding a gun to Madison's head. Tyler stood there, frozen, unsure what to do. Madison's breathing knocked up a few notches. She was going to die today. She was going to die today. She was going to die today.

"One move, and she dies, right here, right now." The man's hoarse voice said. Tyler put his hands up and backed away slowly, before sprinting away, back to the car.

The man dragged Madison backwards, towards his own car.

The white cleaning van.

"Pretty like your mother." The Dancer grinned, shoving Madison into the back compartment of the van.

She jumped towards the door as he closed it, but he slammed it shut before she could attempt to escape.

Where was Tyler? He had just run off.

"The police know who you are. Everyone does." She shouted. The van was the type where there was metal railing separating the seats from the back compartment of the van. So she could see him, and he could see her.

The Dancer got into the driver's seat, "Good."

"Good? You killed four hundred people are you're saying good?" Tears streamed down Madison's cheeks. She was going to try and talk him out of this. There had to be some shred of compassion in his soul, somewhere.

"How did you know where we were?"

"Trackers." He said, starting up the van, "On all your clothes."

When he killed Dylan Ashborne in her apartment, he must've put them on then.

"How did you know about the hatch underneath my parent's bed?"

The van began to move slowly, and Madison knew her time was definitely up. Wherever he was taking her, she wasn't going to come out alive.

So she wanted answers. They were going to be the only sources of closure before she died.

"Miriam told me." He said. He was soft-spoken, with short, fragmented sentences. He obviously wasn't sane. Which meant she wasn't going to be able to talk him out of this.

"How did you know Miriam?"

"From the studio. She used to drop you off. For your practise." He said, concentrating on the road.

Of course. How did Madison not piece that together? Why was everything so obvious, yet everyone had been so oblivious to it all?

"Why did you kill your sister?" Madison asked quietly.

The Dancer didn't answer her.