Page 15

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I turned the faucet off already—a few times. It shouldn’t be dripping at all. I twist my head, attempting once again to see anything, and a tingling sensation spreads over my skin.

It’s him…Somehow, he is doing this. He’s controlling the water and the lights.

I roll to my side, stumbling over the faucet, twisting it to shut it tight. I stand still for a moment, rubbing the cool metal sink against my hands, grounding myself.

A warmth hits me, as if someone is breathing right behind me, and a shiver runs up my spine. Turning my body, I jolt when my fingers meet flesh. A small squeak escapes me as I freeze in place. With a shaking hand, I reach up to touch him, yanking my hand back and stuttering back a few steps when I make contact.

When did he come in? Was he sitting in the dark watching me? Has he been here the entire time?

I reach out again, but he’s gone. Almost frantically, I wave my arms, trying to find him again, desperate to feel the sensation of humanity after the days he’s left me alone. I swear, I just felt something—or someone—here with me. The only difference is that the man in the hood smelled different. The energy is different.

I freeze. Whoever is with me now isn’t him. “Show yourself to me,” I beg, and my voice breaks. “I’ll behave now. I’ll do whatever you want.”

A pause, then rough hands seize my neck, tightening around my throat. A choked breath escapes me as panic rises, my struggles futile against his iron grip. I whimper and twist until his hold loosens, and I tumble to the floor, my head striking the sink on the way down. The impact sends pain radiating down my neck. Footsteps echo in the room until darkness momentarily takes me.

Seconds go by, but I come to my senses, touching my bleeding forehead, hissing at the liquid on my fingers. Clutching my neck, I slowly try to regain my breath, sobbing on the hard, cold earth as blood trickles down my face, and the room grows utterly silent.

Then…

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip…

Don’t let him break me.

After lying on the floor for hours, eventually, I crawled back into my bed. Resting my head, I kept my eyes open, praying this is when I die. I’m curled up on the mattress, doing my best to sleep. My lips are parched, but I don’t drink. Instead, I embrace the darkness. I’ll be dead in a matter of days, and then he’ll have to deal with my corpse.

My eyes grow heavy…and hopefully this time when I close them, I don’t open them again. I let everything go into a peaceful bliss. I stop begging him, stop yelling, swearing, and hurting myself—I stop breathing entirely.

Suddenly the trap door opens. The cadence of the room shifts and natural light seeps in, brightening it. I rub my eyes, and it only takes a moment before beautiful fresh air fills my lungs. I breathe so deeply I nearly choke on it. The alpine air tickles my nose. It’s my favorite scent—one I can’t get enough of. It reminds me of what I have to live for—the simple pleasures, like the fresh air that breathes new life.

Literally.

Shifting my weight, I move my legs one at a time, swinging them to the ground and trying to gather my senses. I don’t dare move any further. This must be a test—there is no way he’s letting me out.

I wait a few seconds, expecting him to jump down like he did the first time. When nothing happens, my gaze drifts back to that open door, to the sunlight and the dust motes swirling in the air—like an invitation.

My freedom is so close I can taste it, but instead of darting out, I practice restraint, resting my head down, refusing my chance at freedom.

The light flickers on and off three times…

I laugh and shake my head. “You’re a fucking asshole,” I mutter.

He’s taunting me.

He knows I can’t get very far unless I eat and drink something. This is a test or a game of some sort. I can’t stay in this dark hole any longer, and he knows it. He calls himself the Archer, maybe he wants to hunt me.

Cursing under my breath, I rise and grab a bottle of water, sipping on it. Then I grab some crackers, nibbling on them. It’s not much, but my energy soars through my body.

I stumble toward the ladder and pull myself up in absolute agony, dragging myself out of the hole until I crumble on grass and dirt. Catching my breath for a moment, I take in my surroundings. Everything is familiar. The mountains in the distance, the trees, the sky—everything. Wherever I am, I’m close to home. The trees are thick, and the forest floor is lush. Scanning the distance, I resist the urge to run. Even if I had the energy, I wouldn’t last an hour. If I take one step through this forest, I’ll get lost in this vast and unforgiving wilderness.

I take a moment to bask in the spring sun as it blazes down. The sky is blue, with no clouds in sight. Based on the position of the sun, my guess is it’s morning.

Running my hands down my bare stomach, I examine the scratches and marks I’ve given myself in the light. I’ve already lost a significant amount of muscle mass, and I deeply regret my outfit choice, as I’m still wearing the shorts I ran in. I shudder to think what would have happened had he taken me in winter.

I spot a small trail a few feet away, and a white ribbon tied around a branch of a tree. The ground has a boot print on it, which tells me it was used by someone recently. A prickling sensation crawls over my nape.

Steadying myself, I follow the path of broken grass through the trees beyond and notice another white ribbon on a tree not far from the first one. As I walk, I try to memorize my surroundings, every branch, every tree, so I can find my way back if I need to.