Solace In The Silence ✓✓

chapter 35

As I spun to leave, a shadow crossed my peripheral vision, and I bristled.
I wasn't alone. There was someone up here with me. Someone who didn't want their presence to be known.
A fissure of dread cut through me.
It was too late.

Tiny hairs rose all over my body when a sound came from behind me-footsteps puncturing the quiet. I heard the creak of the door closing again, and then the unmistakable soft click of the latch.
Someone exhaled a ragged breath, and when they spoke, their voice was mangled and maddened. Worse yet, it belonged to him . "There's no one else left. It always had to be you."
Joe's cryptic remark sent a shiver skating down my spine.

Was I dreaming? This had become a sick, living nightmare. This was not real. This was not happening. But when I pivoted on my heel and opened my eyes again, oh God, he was
here . And he was blocking the doorway.
"Who are you?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
"You still don't know?" Joe stared at me a moment, and then he laughed, the sound slithering over my skin like a rattlesnake. "You really don't recognize me?"
More confusion swirled, and I watched him as he took another measured step closer. I studied his face, those harrowing eyes, tried to place where I might have seen him before coming to UFA... and failed spectacularly. He wasn't familiar, and the knowledge that we obviously knew each other at some point didn't even dislodge an old, repressed memory.

"No," I croaked out, edging back until the solid wall was behind me. A vortex of fear ruptured in my chest. There was nowhere else to go. I was trapped. "I don't know who the hell you are."
"That's really quite a shame," he wheedled, an amused smirk tugging on his lips. "But I guess my plans worked. You always were a dumb bitch."
My eyes stung, and a prickly feeling crawled around inside me, forcing me to acknowledge what was actually happening right now. I was paralyzed again. My body was rigid, my limbs stiff like they were held together by old, worn-down bones. I hadn't sacrificed so much this semester for it to end this way. Everyone would be so disappointed in me if I didn't try to fight him off again. I needed to survive this. I needed to run.

My gaze slowly slid away from Joe and I looked around, assessing if I would be able to make a break out of this tiny, confined room. If my dorm wasn't on the fourth floor, I could've climbed out the open window. Ideas racked my brain, filling me with nothing but fraught hope.
If I could outmaneuver him and escape him for long enough.
If I could get to my dorm across the hall.
If I could just get back to my phone.
"I thought this room was empty, my bad." I smiled, but it was tight and fake. A fallacy I prayed he wouldn't see straight through. "I'm just going to go now and-"

Joe shot forward so fast. When he came into focus again, he was right in front of me.
In one deft motion, the back of his hand struck down over my face. The impact drove the base of my skull into the wall with a sickening crack. Acrid, metallic copper filled my mouth and thickly coated my tongue, a result of my teeth puncturing my lip and the brute force of his assault.
Then his fist found the other side of my head and another streak of pain tore through me. The heavy thud of his knuckles smacking into my flesh, and the taste of blood, dripping out of the corner of my mouth, had a wave of nausea sweeping over me.

Sent crashing off balance, Joe's fingers knotted in my hair, yanking me upright by my ponytail. My ears rang from the relentless blows, and my scalp tingled, a sharp heat shooting down my neck.
"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this day?" he spat out venomously. "I didn't think you'd come here so willingly, but it's better this way. You'll see."
I managed to lift my gaze up to his, determined to meet and hold his stare. His eyes were hollow and vacant now. Joe was dead inside. I had no doubt. He was merely a shell of a person, deprived of a moral compass or a conscience.

"What do you want with me? I've never done anything to you," I whispered helplessly. I had to at least try to understand.
"What do I want?" He barked out another short, maniacal laugh. "I want you to pay for what happened."
Impotent terror clawed at my stomach, gutting me inside out. He wanted to kill me, or at least try. It was written all over his face, the haunted look marring and twisting his expression. Something horrible occurred to me at that moment: I was at the mercy of someone who'd become totally unhinged.