Another Wrong Turn?

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Sensation of Burning

            “I love you, Victoria.”

            I swallowed my sob as my eyes began to water. “I love you, Ian—.”

            “And time’s up!” Philip cried out and snatched the phone away from me.

            “No, no! I wasn’t done yet!” I wailed. Philip just laughed his amused laugh and placed the phone inside his pocket.

            “Was your conversation with your boyfriend nice?” Philip asked me casually, as if we were just discussing the weather.

            “Shut up! You fucking shut up!” I screamed. “What have I done to you? I have done nothing!”

            “I know. But your boyfriend did,” he replied, shrugging.

            “It wasn’t his fault that Patricia chose him! It wasn’t his fault his family is perfect! It was nobody’s fault!”

            “I have to blame somebody!” Philip said coldly. “And that somebody that I chose is Ian. You can’t do anything about it, Victoria.”

            “Ian’s going to save me,” I said confidently. “He will.”

            “You better stay quiet. You don’t want me to hit you.”

            I raised an eyebrow. He would hit a girl? Seriously? “I’d like to see you try.”

            His eyes flashed to me angrily. “You don’t want me to do it, I promise you.”

            “Oh? Afraid that—.”

            But I never finished my sentence, since Philip’s fist went straight to my face, knocking me out.

            I groaned as my eyes opened. My entire face ached and I can’t move my body. Am I paralyzed? Surely Philip’s punch didn’t really paralyzed me, did it? But as I opened my eyes wider, I realized that I wasn’t paralyzed.

            I was tied up.

            “Shit,” I swore.

            I was lying on a bed in a vacant room that I don’t know. Both of my hands were tied up to the headboard of the bed, just above my head. My legs were also tied to the bed and were apart from each other. A tight rope was tied on my waist, practically gluing me to the bed.

            The door slowly opened and my eyes snapped to it. In came Philip, carrying a container of kerosene and some box of matches. My jaw dropped. No—he wouldn’t.

            “Ah, awake, my dear?” Philip said conversationally as he put down the box of matches and started opening the container of the kerosene.

            I stared at him. “Obviously. I never thought you would hit a girl.”

            He shrugged nonchalantly. “I killed a girl. Hitting a girl seems so little.”

            “You killed a—Oh yeah. Patricia.”

            Philip nodded. “Very good. You still remember.”

            “What are you doing?” I asked as he tilted the container of the kerosene upside-down and was pouring the contents on the bed and to me.

            He smirked. “Well, isn’t it obvious, love? I’m going to kill you.”

            “By burning me?” I asked nonchalantly, trying very hard not to stare at the box of matches that was lying on the table just beside the bed.