Scarlett Romero has spent her entire life as an ordinary citizen; going to school, getting a job and definitely not killing people in the middle of the woods on a Friday night.
Until one Friday night, she does.
All she can remember is acting out of...
Sometimes, being offered tenderness Feels like the very proof That you've been ruined.
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Chapter Nine "I Am Not a Good Rock Climber"
Scarlett's POV:
My eyes burn, the light of the laptop blinding. I've been trying to write a paper for one of my university classes, and it hasn't been going well. Three hours and I have a page of questionable knowledge on the mythical Greek hero, Theseus.
It's not that I don't like the class, because I do, but passing university is the last thing on my mind right now.
I groan and slam the laptop shut, sinking back into the office desk chair. I was given four hours of screen time a day, not including weekends, and if I move from an educational site, the internet is suspended for two weeks. I may not care about passing right now, but when I'm out of this hellhole and have a criminal record on my hands, I'm going to need everything I can to get a decent job.
I yawn, eyes watering and lips cracking. I haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately, ever since Quinn tried to kill me about a month ago. It's been quiet ever since. No one has come to let us out, there's been no communication and the only indication of life in the prison is the distant screeches I can hear at night.
But that's not the problem. I haven't seen Alexander for a week. He stayed out of my way before that, somehow knowing he's treading on thin ice in my "is he good or is he bad?" book. I have no idea what's happened to him now though, and it's starting to freak me out.
Not only that, but as soon as he disappeared, I've been having the same nightmare almost every night.
Quinn holding a gun to my head, but instead of the cold concrete of the prison, we're standing in the middle of a forest. There's a sparkling lake beside us, and the wind is at a standstill, but the entire place smells of something foul. Like death and fear.
I hear a strange voice I can't quite reach. It sends a tingle down my spine, and as I feel the temperature build a few degrees, Quinn's grip on me changes. Her hands grow, bigger and with harsher callouses. Then it's Alexander towering over me, and he's pressing the gun so tight against my temple a throb starts behind my eyes.
The whispering stops and the breath gets caught in my throat. The small licks of fire above our heads, seemingly reaching down from the sky, vanish and I'm left cold. Colder than I've ever been before.
I watch as Alexander's finger spasms over the trigger of the gun, and my entire body jolts as he fires. My ears are ringing, but I can still hear Alexander's cackle as he pulled down on that trigger.
Except I'm not dead.
No, instead I'm looking down at my feet, where Kylie's lifeless body stares up at me. There's a bloody hole in the side of her head. It taunts me, gnawing at something cruel inside me, bending and twisting until there's nothing but a black cloud.
