Taken by Lucifer

I finally free myself, taking off running. I turn down an alleyway, the street lights doing nothing to help me see. "You can run, little bird. But you won't get far" his voice is low, calm and certain, like he already knows how this will end.

I keep running until my lungs burn. At some point, I had gotten turned around, running further and further from home. Suddenly, I trip and fall, barely catching myself before my face hits the ground. I roll onto my back and sit up, brushing my hands off onto my pants. I push myself to stand, facing him.

He stands still, watching. His head tilts to the side, like a predator tracking its prey. "Go on" he says. "Try again" his voice is full of challenge, like he wants me to run, like he wants to chase me.

I take a step back, but freeze when I see his hand. A knife glints in the sliver of moonlight visible. I don't move when he gets closer, or when he grabs me. He pins me against the side of a building, knocking the air out of me. While I'm gasping for air, he runs the knife along my chest, up to my neck until the tip is poking my chin, forcing me head up to look at him.

He uses his free hand to pull out a cloth and presses it against my face. A sickly sweet smell fills my nose and I hold my breath.

"Breathe" he says, calm and controlled. I try to fight it, but my lungs give in and I desperately try to fill them with air. The world starts to soften at the edges, sound fading out. Fear fills my eyes until darkness takes me over and my eyelids droop. And I swear, I swear to whatever being is watching over me, that the mother fucker smiled.