STOP!
Please don’t do this.
Help!
I’m startled awake from an all too real nightmare. I shake off the horrid images of my bad dream and sit up, but quickly realize I’m already in the seated position. I’m not in my bed. Shooting pain radiates inside my head, and I tug at my arms, but they’re pinned behind me.
Oh God.
Where am I?
How did I get here?
My mind is so foggy. I can’t seem to focus.
Everything hurts.
Panic sets in when I realize I’m tied to a chair. I pull at my arms again, and severe pain erupts up my back. Fabric holds tight around my eyes, blindfolding me. I try to listen for sounds, but it’s eerily quiet. I don’t know whether to scream for help or stay silent.
I fight the fogginess for any memory.
Flashes of yelling, struggling. The pain. The blood.
“What are you doing here?”
“What the hell is going on—?”
“Put me down!”
Oh God! The hotel. The attack. Them.
“Let me go!”
“No, please don’t. Please!”
It’s all starting to come back to me. The text from Christine asking to meet me. Texting back my location. When I opened the hotel door, it all happened so fast.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Christine—?”
I don’t finish my sentence. He attacks me. His arms wrap around my waist, trying to secure a hold on me. I fight him hard, but my feet leave the ground. I start to scream, but his large hand covers my mouth. I struggle, throwing my head back. I meet bone as he howls and drops me, and I fall to the ground, landing wrong on my ankle. I moan as the pain shoots up my leg.
Fear consumes me. I attempt to crawl away and get to my feet, but he catches a chunk of my hair.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going, you little whore?”
I scratch at his arms, fighting against his tight grip. I have no choice but to scramble to my feet unless I want him to rip out any more of my hair.
Screaming, I swing at him, and my nails dig deep, leaving a long scratch down his face.
“Bitch!” He throws me forward. My injured ankle lets out, and I stumble and fall into the nightstand. My head makes contact with the corner of the wood. I bring my fingers up to my head. It’s already swelling, and when I pull away, my fingers are covered in blood. I try to stand, but the room spins. I throw my hand on the mattress to steady myself, leaving a red print.
Two hands from behind me thrust into my back, and I slip, landing on the floor. I yelp in pain but force myself to roll over and avoid his hands as he reaches for me. I try to keep most of my weight on one foot and hop to the bed, jumping up to crawl over it. He manages to get a hold on my ankle, but I kick my other foot back, hitting him in the face.
“Fuck! You’re gonna pay for that.” He dives over the bed. I grab for the lamp on the nightstand and tug it hard, ripping the plug from the socket. I bash it over his head and watch in horror as the impact slices his head open, leaving a gaping gash. He rolls off the bed, hitting the floor like a bag of bricks.
I hear a noise and turn away from him. I take one step forward when I’m tackled from behind. He’s on me, taking me to the ground. This time, his weight and strength overpower mine. I scream again, but he puts his hand over my mouth. I get my teeth around skin and bite down. He grunts and backhands me across the face. I lose focus for a few seconds, but when I come to, I feel him yanking at my sweatpants. My hands go wild trying to fight him off me, but too quickly, they’re locked between his hands, and he’s pulling them above my head. He’s so heavy on top of me, I’m struggling to breathe. My stomach threatens to expel at the feel of his erection jamming into my stomach.
“Please, don’t do this. Please!”
He’s crazed with anger. He doesn’t hear my plea. His hands begin to fumble with my sweatpants again when the door opens.
Thank God. Damien’s back. In mere seconds, he’s going to save me from this nightmare.
“I didn’t say you can rape her, Jesus. Do I have to do everything myself?” My body goes rigid. No… It can’t be. But then I see her face. “Night, night, freakshow.” And she jams a long needle inside my flesh.
Fucking Sylvia.
Whatever she stuck me with knocked me out. It’s still lingering in my system because I can’t seem to fight off the grogginess. I try to nudge the blindfold off with my shoulder, but no luck.
“Well, look who’s finally awake.” The blindfold is ripped off my head, and pain from the gash on my forehead turns my stomach. I look around, trying to figure out where I’m at, but the pain and dizziness prevent it. It’s dark, so it’s hard to see, but it looks like we’re in the woods.
I tug at my arms, but the bindings are so tight, it’s scraping away at my skin. “You’re a special kind of crazy, you know that? And you’re so fucked when they find me,” I snap.
Sylvia just laughs, leaving me with an unsettled feeling. I try not to let the fear show, but it’s impossible. She’s a loose cannon and I have no idea what else she has planned for me.
“Honey, I’m not worried about anyone finding you. Probably ever.” She turns to walk away into the dark.
Fuck, how did I get here? How did they get me out of the hotel? There has to be surveillance. Someone had to have seen me. Damien would come back. He would see the room. He would come for me.
My throat starts to lock, but I fight down the emotions. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I coach myself. I need to stay strong. “Damien cringes at the thought of you, and when he finds you took me, he’s gonna come after you, and he’s going to destroy you when he does.”
She turns gracefully as if we’re at a sorority ball. “Oh, honey. You have it all wrong. See, this isn’t all for nothing. You going bye-bye is going to open so many opportunities for me.”
“You’re nuts. Damien despises you. Getting me out of the picture won’t get you shit.”
She laughs some more, and chills run down my spine. “That’s where you’re wrong. He certainly enjoys me. Before you showed up that night, which I must take credit for that, he and I had a pleasantly good time. Naughty man he is. Very needy with his hands. I have to admit, he definitely seemed to prefer blondes over ratty brunettes.”
I don’t hide the confusion in my eyes. I know nothing happened. She’s lying.
“Oh, he didn’t tell you?”
“He wouldn’t willingly touch you. You’re lying.”
She skips over to me, putting her face directly into mine. “He’s going to do so much more once you’re out of the picture. What we can be together…” She smiles, looking as if she’s lost in mental thought. Bringing her eyes back to focus, she continues. “It’s going to be magical.” Then she twirls around and skips into the darkness.
Bat. Shit. Crazy.
She has absolutely lost her mind.
I look around, trying to find a way to escape. The binds around my wrists are too tight. Fuck. I’m fucked. I don’t know how long it’s been, or how long I’ve been here. It’s dark outside, which tells me a while, and that worries me. I’ve been missing for some time, and no one’s found me.
Not good.
I try to remember how long Damien said he would be gone. What if work took longer than he imagined? What if he sent me a text saying he would be late and to go home or eat—or get kidnapped by a psychopath and die in the woods!
“Fuck!”
“What was that?” Sylvia returns, holding a phone. Phone! Oh my God, is that my phone? The tracker Damien put on the bat phone. Oh, please let it be the bat phone.
“You calling to turn yourself in? Realizing men aren’t into crazy—”
Her fingers wrap into my hair, and I scream as she yanks down. “You stupid bitch. You think I would have your phone just sitting here? No, no…this is your pathetic friend’s phone. Just sending a little message from her phone to yours. I mean, who would they suspect first? The jaded best friend, ya know!” Her evil smile does nothing to assure me I’ll make it out alive.
“You won’t win in the end. He won’t want you.”
“I always get what I want!” she yells. “This will be no different. It’s you who loses here, freakshow. Not me. I win. I win!”
She tugs hard, trying, and possibly succeeding, at ripping half my head of hair out. My eyes blur from the pain and my scalp feels like it’s on fire. A shadow appears from beyond the trees and she lets go as someone comes into view. Sylvia turns around letting off a grade A sorority level huff. “Where have you been? How long does it take to light a match?” she snaps.
“I had to stop at an urgent care. That bitch broke my nose. Not to mention the four stitches I had to get in my head.” Jake walks onto the landing, showing a bit of wear and tear.
“Oh, poor baby. Did you get your ass kicked by a girl?” Gone is the kind smile he tricked me with at school. In its place is anger and resentment.
“Bitch, you’re the one tied to a chair in the middle of the woods. I don’t think you should be talking shit. If you want, I’ll let you suck my dick as your last dying wish.” He laughs, and Sylvia rolls her eyes.
“Hard pass,” I respond. “Curious, though. How did Sylvia get you to do her dirty work? Or have you always been a fucking psychopath like her?”
He comes at me, and my eyes shut as I wait for the blow. Nothing comes, and when I reopen them, Sylvia is on him, with her tongue down his throat.
“Oh my God, seriously? I thought you didn’t like her? Jesus, your cheesy letter-wearing club cults confuse me.”
Sylvia pulls away and wipes at her pink lipstick. Jake looks like he wants to finish me off. “Well, when I told him what a conniving little slut you were, and how you were just stringing him along, I took it upon myself to do what you couldn’t. Please him. And you know men. They’ll do anything for a fuck. Little ol’ Jakey offered to kidnap you for a simple blowjob. Isn’t that cute?”
All I was worth was a measly blowjob? Gee. Thanks. “Hope it was worth it, douchebag, ‘cause your freedom’s coming to an end soon. Damien will find me. And you’re both fucked!”
Jake comes at me. “You lying bitch,” he snaps, but the nervousness in his tone tells me he’s not so sure. He turns to Sylvia. “She’s lying, right? We’re good? You said this couldn’t be traced back to us.”
Sylvia scoffs, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Chillax, she’s just trying to mess with you. No one saw us. We took the back way and she was covered in a sheet.”
They covered me in a sheet?
Okay, I take it back, she’s not batshit crazy, she’s a lunatic.
“Oh yeah? Did you clean up the blood bath? DNA, pal. Your blood is all over that room.” I dig at him some more, hoping they’ll turn on each other. Jake’s head snaps to Sylvia. I’ve succeeded in freaking him out.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she hisses at him.
“Then tell me she’s fucking lying. Is she lying? Can they track that shit?”
Sylvia shrugs her dainty shoulders, trying to come off unfazed, but she’s failing at not looking nervous herself. “Well, how should I know? I don’t watch those FBI shows.”
“Sylvia—”
“What! I didn’t tell you to get whacked in the head with a lamp and bleed everywhere!” Jake starts to flip out, pacing back and forth. Sylvia looks like no one’s home. I try to sway back and forth, hoping to fall over and break the chair. I’m an okay runner. I can run into the woods and hide.
“This was all your idea. If we get caught, this is your fault. I won’t fucking hesitate to tell them—”
A horrified scream leaves my throat when Sylvia picks up a log and bashes it against the side of Jake’s head. I watch in horror as he goes down like a tree. “Jesus Christ, what’d you do that for!” I shout, but I don’t think she hears me. She certainly seems to have forgotten about me. “Sylvia!”
“It’s fine. Daddy will fix this. Daddy will fix this. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”
What the fuck? “Sylvia, your dad can’t fix this. He’s bleeding. You need to call for help, or he’s gonna die.”
“It’s fine. Daddy will fix this. Daddy will fix this. Daddy will fix this.”
“I don’t think Daddy is fixing any—”
“DADDY FIXES EVERYTHING!” Cocking her shoulders back, she raises the log, readying herself for another deadly blow.