Instead, it's a large man with a beard who looks like he could crush my windpipe with a single meaty hand. My chest heaves, the adrenaline keeping me alive as he takes a step toward me, his hands outstretched like he means to snatch me up. I don't give him the chance, slashing out at him with the knife and forcing him to step back to avoid being struck.
I laugh at the look of shock on his face and then laugh harder when it morphs to rage.
Behind him, the man with the tattooed knuckles struggles to stem the flow of blood that's spurting fast from his neck, drenching the floor like a sprinkler. The sound of shoes slapping concrete recedes, telling me the friend who ran is a fucking coward. But I already knew that.
“What the fuck, Cal?” One of the men yells, gripping him by the shoulder and shaking him. “Get your bitch under control. Get that fucking knife from her!”
Fucking idiots still haven't put two and two together. At least, not all of them have. The one I stabbed seems to realize something more was at play here, because his eyes are on Cal, angry.
“I like her like this.” Cal says, pulling the syringe from his jacket pocket. In a flash, he gets the big guy, who's too distracted by the blade to see the sleight of hand. He tenses and tries to fight Cal off when he feels him pulling against him, but it does no good.
Cal stabs the man in the neck, in the same spot I stabbed the others. But instead of blood spouting from the puncture, Cal floods him with drugs that make him still, his efforts to fight him off failing.
He's bigger than Cal, but the element of surprise gave him the opportunity he needed to flood his veins, and as he drops to the ground, the older man who was trying to help Knuckles bolts. He launches into a run from the ground, like he's bracing for a marathon, and takes off back the way he came.
“You dropped your teddy!” I call after him, bending down to scoop it into my arms.
Cal grins at me and runs past me, stalking our prey.
He goes for the first to escape... the one who's far too high to figure out how to get the fuck out of here. I go after the other, knowing he hasn't gotten as big a lead on me.
I practically skip through the warehouse, ignoring the fallen bodies and the blood-soaked hand that reaches out to try and wrap around my ankle as Knuckles fights for his last breath. I want to stay and watch the life slip out of his eyes... it shouldn’t take long.
But I'm a predator right now, and my prey is on the run.
“Why'd you run?” I call after him, stalking into the next room.
The music is quiet in here, and the darkness is deep, unfolding out of my vision. I'm confident he ran toward the exit, back the way he came, rather than trying to hide in the shadows like a child.
But then again, hedidbring a teddy bear to a gang rape, so who's to say what kind of fucking monster I'm hunting right now?
“Was this teddy bear for me?” I call. The music switches to something slow and jaunty, haunting.
“Run, rabbit, run rabbit.” The speakers call out as I move to the next room, the volume louder from the speaker concealed in the corner.
I sing a few lines. It's not lost on me that I'm letting him know exactly where I am. That's the point.
Iwanthim to feel hunted, stalked, and out of his mind with terror.
I want him to feel like this can't possibly happen to him, like it's a nightmare he just hasn't yet woken up from.
I want to fracture his soul before I carve it out of him.
As I move to the next room, the quiet deepens, stretching between the darkness.
“You brought me a present?” I call, picking my way carefully through the room. I didn't have the foresight to put my shoes on when Cal handed me the dress. “I have a present for you, too.”
A sob from the darkness makes me freeze. I turn toward the vast emptiness of the warehouse shell, my eyes scanning the space for any indication of a person hiding there.
“Marco…” I venture, stepping gingerly into the shadows that conceal my victim from me. The silence stretches between us, but I know he’s there, waiting, hiding.
“Where is that pesky rabbit?” I call, moving slowly forward.
He rushes at me from the darkness; he’s upon me before I see him rise from the shadows. He growls as he tackles me to the ground in darkness so obsolete, I can see nothing other than flashes of skin, teeth, and gleaming eyes.
I slash blindly with the knife, refusing to let him disarm me.
A howl assures me I hit my mark at least once, but then a hand closes around my wrist, squeezing so tightly that I drop the knife as I attempt to wrench free. It falls with a clatter that's swallowed by the music switching to a loud, pulsingrock song. He gets his other hand around my neck, pinning me beneath him so that he can crawl over my body to pin me in place.
