—Shelly—
We’ve been locked in this room for hours. No one has come for us and no one will. As far as our families know we simply vanished in the middle of the night. I don’t know how many hours have passed since the Devils Rejects locked us up after a brief taste of freedom. The last time I laid down in my bed and shut my eyes, I had no idea that within the night a dirty outlaw biker was coming for me and my housemates.
I was an average college student, living it up, going to parties, and spending her dad’s money.
Now I’m a captive facing certain death.
“They’re going to kill us!” Cassia cries as if I don’t already know our fate.
“Don’t say that,” Belinda whispers, hugging her knees to her chest while rocking back and forth on the cement floor. The room is dark and empty. The only light we are provided comes from a small square window in the door. It is up to high for me to try and look through and the others are too chicken to try. If we need to relieve our bladders there is literally a hole in one corner of the room to squat over and forget anything to wipe with.
I don’t say anything in response.
What can I do?
What can I say?
Nothing I tell either of them will help our situation.
I can’t even remember the last time I spoke to my parents on the phone. My dad is always busy at the hospital, working as a neurosurgeon, and my mother is too busy spending his money to worry about me. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I didn’t run away from home or anything like that. My parents were just never present once I could care for myself. My dad loads money into my account once a month and sends a weekly text message to say I love you. I can’t remember the last time I heard him speak those three little words aloud.
Most girls growing up are daddy’s girls, but not me.
The door opens and a man wearing a Halloween demon mask grabs Cassia. The mask is green with horns poking out of the top. I know the scary face is meant to frighten us but in a twisted sense I find him wearing it comical. The metal door clinks shut once more as Belinda begins to wail. “Please, let me out. I just want to go home.”
I wish she’d shut up.
The only thing she has accomplished is giving me a headache.
The sound of a gun firing silences her but only momentarily.
“Oh! God! They’ve killed her and we’re next.”
“Better her than us,” I mutter.
She crawls over to me and claws at my arm. “Aren’t you scared?”
“Of what? Dying?”
“Yes! How can you be so calm?”
“I’m terrified, no different than you are. I just refuse to let them see my fear. I won’t allow them to break me.”
The moment I utter the words the masked man returns and grabs Belinda by her hair as she cries, kicks, and scratches.
Part of me wants to take this opportunity to try to run past them and out the door to freedom, but I’m sure he isn’t working alone. I’d never make it far.
The door slams shut once more, and I am only thankful that they haven’t made me witness my friends’ deaths.
Gunfire pops off and I shudder knowing he will return for me soon.
One lonely tear threatens to trickle down my cheek, but I battle against the urge to cry and shut that emotion down as quickly as the feeling swept through me.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
I repeat the exercise, hoping to keep it together. I don’t want him to see me fall apart. I don’t want him to think he can break me.
Creak.
The door to my temporary prison opens and the man with the mask holds up his right hand motioning his finger for me to come to him. I know he means to kill me and I mean to let him. There is no changing the fate I have been delivered to. I am a fly caught in the spider’s web.
I keep my face and posture stoic as I move up from my position in the floor.
Stepping forward, one foot in front of the other, I take his offered hand.
His touch is warm…strong… and somewhat inviting.
As soon as I leave the room he presses me into the wall and puts a blindfold over my face in an attempt to shield my eyes from the scene behind him. It’s too late though. I see my friends each with a hole in their forehead. Their eyes appear to be frozen in the quick flash I glimpse of their bodies.
Grabbing my hands, he binds them together with an itchy rope. I rub my wrists together although I know I won’t be breaking free.
Next thing I know my masked monster is jerking me forward and shoving me down to my knees.
“Any last words?” His rough voice grits in my ear, sending shivers coursing down my spine. If I weren’t about to die, I would find his voice appealing, sexy even. The morbid thought runs through my mind shocking me.
“You’re a coward.” I spit my words at him with pure venom. “You can’t even look me in the eyes when you pull the trigger. A real man wouldn’t need to hide his face…a real man—” my words are cut off by the warm barrel of the gun rubbing over my lips.
I close my mouth, staying motionless as the killing instrument probes my mouth, smearing my saliva down my chin.
The torturous game continues until the weapon is dipping between the valley of my breasts.
I should be scared.
I should be begging for my life to be spared but something about his actions feels…erotic, and my body betrays me as heat pools in my belly, spreading to my inner thighs.
Before I can react a tongue slides across my bottom lip.
“You fuckin’ taste like trouble. I should kill you right now but lucky for you…I crave what I should never touch,” his minty breath whispers against my mouth before he dives in for a full-blown kiss. This kiss isn’t just any kiss.
This kiss screams possession as thoughts of him and wondering who he is rules my existence.
His tongue demanding entrance into my mouth should disgust me, but my body eagerly responds to the touch and taste of him invading and overpowering my control.
A moan of pure pleasure erupts from my throat and I feel absolute shame, but I can’t stop myself from returning his kiss.
His tongue sweeps through my mouth dominating all my senses, owning every ounce of willpower I have.
This jerk is contemplating killing me, but not only that he fucking killed two of my friends. He kidnapped me! What’s wrong with me? Why does a part of me wish he’d kiss me again?
I am attracted to a psychopath.
The blindfold is removed, and I am face to face with the bastard I flashed my boobs at. He is down on his knees on my level.
His grey eyes darken as they burn into mine.
There are too many emotions hidden within their smoky depths to read him.
I know he is toying with me. The problem is a sick part of me enjoys it.
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it already,” I taunt.
The corners of his mouth curve upward into a delicious smirk. “No, don’t think I will. You got fire, princess. I like that shit.”
“Lucky me.”
“Damn straight you’re lucky. I don’t give second chances. Never.”
“Then why now? Why me?”
“Because…” He tucks the gun in the back waistband of his jeans. His hands move to the hem of my tank top, then travel underneath the pink cotton, moving up my torso until he reaches my breasts. Pinching each of my nipples he says, hoarsely, “It’d be a crying shame to let tits like these go to waste.”
If my hands weren’t bound I would smack him.
I try like hell to ignore the zing that travels straight to my pussy.
“If you…” my eyes focus on the scene behind him…my roommates—sorority sisters’ dead eyes stare at me, judging me.
Bile creeps up in my throat and I can feel my skin turning green as the shock of my predicament hits me.
“Don’t puke on me, sugar tits. Don’t need something else to clean up.” I begin to sway on my knees as my reality finally comes crashing down. I’m at the mercy of a monster. Before my eyes roll back in my head I read the name sewn onto his leather vest…I’m in the clutches of Boogeyman.
A name that represents things that go bump in the night.
The monster waiting in the shadows to terrorize you as you sleep.
Rapidly blinking my eyes, I fight the weight that is threatening to suck me under before my caramel orbs are rolling back in my head and the darkness takes over.