32 | run

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C L A I R E

I flip around, my fingers clutching my phone tight as he stands before me. In the daylight, his appearance is more menacing and duplicitous with the strange mask on.

"No, no, no..."

My foot falls on the pile of mud, twisting at the toes and gravity pulls me down to the ground, my one hand falling on the burner phone and Nina's voice stops when the thing crashes under my palm.

"C'mon, darling." The man takes steps towards me while I drag my body backward, the pain in my toes making it hard to make my legs work. "Stop playing around and get this over with."

His voice. How can someone have such a harsh voice? It sounds like he has something in his mouth, making the sound unrecognizable. But there is a hint of something known. I must have heard him before. I know I have heard him before.

"What do you want from me?" I ask him. My hands hurt as my palms drag through the gravel, slicing a layer of skin. "I don't have anything. Please leave me alone."

"Oh, honey, you do have something..." He comes closer, twirling the knife around his index finger, his steps slow and steady. "You have that ring that binds you to your husband and if there's something that I despise the most, it's that."

Half of his words tune out for me as my eyes focus on his shoes, calculating the distance between us. Skin peels from my palms, leaving burning wounds in their wake.

"No, no...please..."

My searching hands find stones on the ground and just like before, I pick some and throw them at him. He laughs but turns his neck to the side, letting the pebbles hurl past him. I take that time to get up and as soon as I am on my feet, I dash for what's behind me without caring to look. My bag drops to the ground, falling in the muddy pool of water along with my phone but before I can even think of picking it up, I see the man making a run for me.

"Don't make it more painful for yourself, Claire."

His footsteps are loud, echoing behind me as I round about the warehouse, finding dead ends after dead ends.

The work in this part of the warehouse was never finished and the sight of cement, steel rods, and bamboo sticks barricading each end zone makes me loathe my choice of following Nina's voice. Right then, all I wanted was to check if she was okay. I shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me. Apparently, nowadays being good brings you nothing but muggers and masked killers behind your back.

When I reach another dead end, I spot a part of the building separated by a short wall in the middle. It is shorter than my height; I can jump over easily. With my hands above the bricks, I use the force to push my body above the wall and swing one leg over as I jump down to the other side. I don't land on my feet but my face, my head hitting the ground hard, pain jolting my very bones.

"Ah!" I put a hand over the area on my forehead and bring it forward to see red blood gushing out of it. My vision starts to go blurry. "Fuck...not now."

I pull myself up again, only to discover wasted land separating me from the grey building of the warehouse. I have been running so fast that I didn't even realize when I went past the warehouse. I make out the place to be somewhere behind the building. If I am somehow able to reach closer to the place, I can shout for help.

Taking a step forward earns me another jitter of pain, coursing through my legs and clamping my muscles. I look up and see the sun shining brightly over my head, making my body heat up. My throat aches with the need for water.

"Found you!"

Suddenly, a pair of hands grab my waist, trapping my hands in between.

"Let me go, you fucking asshole!" I wriggle in his arms and he presses his palms to my thigh, keeping me in place.

"I don't want to do this, Claire. But I have to. Lessons need to be taught," he whispers into my ear, sliding my hair to the side.

He turns me around and pushes hard. I fall to the ground, hands braced to the sides and my spinal cord hits the ground, skittering bone-chilling pain through my body. My body trembles with the impact, the injuries jolting my very bones.

"Ah!" I scream in pain, tears pooling in my eyes as I close them. "Someone help me, please...someone please..."

It is daylight still, someone should have seen me by now. What happened to all the people? I start to cry as the man bends down, laying his hands flat on both sides of my body, hovering above me.

"Don't cry!" he shouts at me, his hand moving to my neck and his long fingers wrapping around it. "Don't you fucking cry." As he squeezes softly, more tears spring from my eyes. "I said don't cry!"

The gloved hand he had on my neck, travels up to my face, rubbing the tears but my tears are endless. The more he rubs them away, the more I cry. He keeps wiping my tears like a frantic, yet his touch is gentle.

It is like all he wants to do is shove that knife through parts of my body but not hurt me without a weapon. Maybe, just maybe, I can stall my death and see if someone finds us here. The sun will be down soon but there will be people here. No place in a city is that secluded. Ever.

"You...who are...you?" I grab the wrist of the hand with which he is rubbing my tears and he stills, unmoving as he looks at me through the mask's hollowed eyes.

He has chosen his getup carefully. I am not able to make out a single thing about him except that of his height and bodily features which only make me see that he could be none other than an average American white man. I can only see his skin color because of his neck and it isn't even useful.

"Shh...don't talk." He yanks his hand away from my grip and takes hold of both of my wrists, trapping them over my head, his legs straddling my hips. "Don't talk, don't cry, don't give me that innocent look."

His voice is so inhuman that it greets me with chills, making me believe that if I tear my eyes away from him, he will not wait before he slices me down with his knife. The hilt of his knife digs into the palm of my hand and I try to curl my fingers around it, see if I can grab hold of it but he notices my action and presses the hilt straight over my palm, pressing hard and making me cry out in pain.

"Ah...it hurts! Please..."

"It should hurt." He presses harder making me feel like my bones might crack under the pressure he is applying. My eyes shut themselves as I take long breaths to calm down. "Oh, look...you've stopped crying. Good girl. Now, don't you worry, I'll go real slow. Just shove it inch by inch down your throat and we'll be done."

Fuck!

I open my eyes and see him shifting his position and find both of my hands trapped in one of his as he frees his other hand to bring the knife closer to my face. The sharp edge touches my temple, slicing down, making burning pain slither to me. He drags the knife downwards, stopping at my cheekbone, cutting my cheek. The warmth of liquid trickling down my face makes me writhe under him.

"That will be a reminder of the little time we had together," he whispers, indicating the cut which will leave a scar, ruining my face forever,

I have to do something. Anything. Anything that can trick him.

'You're my little thief, sister. Never forget that.'

Chris.

As the knife is lifted over my throat, it shakes in his hand. I flick my gaze behind the man and speak words that make him stop on track.

"Vaughn..." I let out with a sigh of relief. "You're here."

The knife freezes midway and the man flips his neck to look behind him.

Got you!

I use all my body's strength to lift my head. He quickly turns to me but he is too late because my head hits his outstretched hand with the knife and the object flies from his hand. The sudden attack makes his grip on my hands loosen and I use my freed hands to push him hard off me.

"Fuck!" he groans when he lands on the ground on his butt and I don't look back as I stand up and take steps away from him.

My chest inflates with relief and the adrenaline in my body gives me all the strength I need to get away from this psycho.

Before he can gather his wits back, I run.


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