Detrimental [H.S.]

𝟺 - ʀᴜɴ

Silence filled the air. Nothing could be heard except my shaky breath and the so called "wall" breathing down my neck. I couldn't move. It felt like the first time having sleep paralysis except I wasn't seeing things and this was real. The cold wind never felt so much harsher. Everything was heightened for sure.

My breathing, my ability to hear, my ability to feel. All of it. Even his breathing.

It didn't take much longer before he spoke directly into my ear. I stayed still hoping this was an actual dream paralysis. Nothing was scarier at the moment. His lips were literally touching my ear this time, as he moved his head down. It felt warm and a bit wet.

We were all alone, in this empty alley, with a dead man's body in the trash can.

I was alone with a member of the SF killers right behind me.

"Are you scared?" His voice was low and deep. His tone sound amused as if this was his source of entertainment. Hearing his voice so close to my ear made me dizzy but mostly scared to death. I didn't say anything except let out a cry that I couldn't hold back. I was quick to shut my mouth as I silently sobbed, tears streaming down my face.

"Shhhh baby, don't cry." Fake comfort evident in his voice. This only made me cry a bit louder. The moment I increased my tears, I heard him let out a raspy, deep chuckle against my ear. I refused to turn around and look him in the face. He tortured the cop. He killed the man laying right in front of me. He was a part of the horrific crimes done by the SF killers. And He was going to be responsible for my death.

All of a sudden, I could feel skin against my bare arms. I look down to see that his arms were wrapped around me, holding me tight. The sight made me feel nauseous.

"Oh my god," I cried lowly, denial in my voice. There was blood all over his arms and hands. Even more than before. It was dripping on my toes, staining my heels. My hands were down to my sides, trapped, and he moved his hands up and down my arms. He was smudging the fresh, red substance all over me. Blood stains were even spotted all over my dress.

"What's wrong?" He whispered, pretending to care. He spoke to me as if I were a child. I couldn't see his face but I could tell he was wearing a much more sadistic smirk. Nothing came out of my mouth. I didn't even realize I wasn't breathing until I let out a shaky breath.

Breathing didn't seem so important to me right now.

"Hmm, what am I going to do with you?" As he said that, he brought his bloodstained arm to my jaw, grabbing it to tilt my head. My head was now resting back on his broad shoulder, his chest against my back. The metallic smell of blood was toxic to my nostrils. My crying had never stopped. He used his thumb to trace my lips so gently yet so viciously, smudging more fresh blood on my pink lips.

Almost instantly, after he traced my lips, he entered his pointer finger through my mouth. I didn't have much time to react before his long finger hit the back of my throat, making me gag at how far in it was and the metallic taste attacking my tastebuds. I was silently choking for seconds before he took it right back out. I never felt so vulnerable. My cries were now getting caught up in my throat.