A freezing wave of terror crashes over me, rippling through the thickening, cold forest air, and I watch as Harley’s expression shifts to one of dread, as the reality of what’s about to happen to him sinks in. I swallow the voice in my head that says he’s not leaving this forest alive, because that’s ridiculous, right? Harley must see something I don’t, because he starts squirming in their hold, as the man before him closes the distance between them in a single stride, locking a gloved hand around Harley’s throat.
The flashlight falls to the ground, and they become nothing more than moving shadows, but I can hear just enough to understand what is happening.
Each sound settles like a cold stone in my chest. The rustling of Harley’s struggle, the muted cries as his mouth is covered by something. A blade slicing, over,and over and over into his tired body until eventually, everything goes quiet. My chest tightens with unrelenting fear as I lean my back against the tall forest tree.
Harley is dead.
They killed him.
I don’t know what hits harder, the fact that they did it without so much as hearing him out, or the terrifying possibility that if they see me, I’m next. And what did Harley mean by‘leave her alone?’Was he talking about Chloe? Are they going to hurt her, too?
Or did he mean me?
My thoughts spiral out of control, and I hold my hand tighter over my mouth, trying to quiet my frantic breathing. Not a single word is spoken between them as I listen to the sickening scrape of a body being dragged across the forest floor, and I don’t dare move or look over. I remain completely still, imprisoned by this moment with Harley because I am the only one who knows that it was his last.
CHAPTER SIX
BAILEY
The minutes bleed into each other, and I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here, focusing on every sound, searching for any signs that they’re still around.
Sarah and Kayda are nowhere to be seen, but part of me is relieved that they haven't come looking for me. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to them.
The three devils have probably gone to dispose of Harley’s body, so I choose this moment to stand, my legs shaky from the weight of the exertion of running, and the exhaustion of what I saw them do.
Once I’m confident that I’m not going to fall, I slowly turn, but I immediately collide with a wall ofmuscle. All the blood drains from my face as fear grips me so tight that my voice gets stuck in my throat. I open my mouth, desperate to scream, but I'm completely terrified. Tears sting my eyes, but they don’t fall, as I remain locked in the man’s hold.
I don’t try to run. I don’t even blink as I stare up at the ghost mask, its empty eyes cutting through the darkness like a blade under the cold moonlight.
“Look who I found,” Ghost says, his deep, threatening voice melting over me like poisoned honey, as the others close in, standing at either side of him. My eyes follow their every move, taking in the Myers and Jason masks that cover their faces, and I swear I can almost feel my soul leave my fucking body.
“You know it’s impolite to lurk in the shadows like that. Someone might think you’re a stalker,” the guy on Ghost’s left, the one in the Jason mask, says, and a wave of goosebumps dances across my skin as he slowly lifts his arm and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
My fight or flight mode has obviously malfunctioned, because I don’t even flinch.
The last thing I want to do right now is show any signs that I am afraid, because that would be like winning the fucking lottery for them. If I’m going to die tonight, it won’t be on my fucking knees like Harley. No. It will be with their skin beneath my nails, and their blood between my teeth.
When I say nothing, Ghost gently trails his glovedhand from my arm to my chin, tilting my face until I’m looking up into his hollow, masked stare. My heart is hammering for all the wrong reasons because there is a messed up part of me that doesn’t hate this. There’s a quiet, shameful ache from submitting to his intensity and the danger I should be running from.
“We’ve waited forever for you,” Ghost breathes, his voice dripping with dark, insatiable hunger, and despite the hundreds of warning bells screaming in my mind, and the blood still warm on the ground where they killed Harley, my traitorous body wants him. Wants them, and I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me because I know that it shouldn't. I’m like a dying star, helplessly drawn into their orbit, and it’s only a matter of time before I burn out completely.
“Look at her. She likes the feel of my hands on her skin,” Ghost says teasingly, and I instinctively recoil, causing his hand to fall from my chin. He quickly adjusts his grip on my body, not wanting me to get away.
“Don't talk about me like I'm not fucking here. Let go of me!” I shout like an idiot, because he has the upper hand right now.
A low, villainous laugh fills the space between us, but I hold my gaze, hoping it burns through his stupid mask, which only seems to be doing wicked things to me. I struggle in his hold, but he grips me tighter, until I eventually stop fighting. I need to preserve as muchenergy as possible if I have a chance of getting out of this.
“That’s the hellcat we came for,” the other one, Myers, purrs, and my lips tilt into a disgusted smirk.
“If you came all this way for me, then I hope you brought a shovel. I’ll need it for when I bury the three of you in this forest,” I spit, knowing very fucking well that I am full of shit. This causes them to laugh, and it only pisses me off more.
“Don’t try to pretend with us, Stalker. We know you want this. We see it. That hunger. You’re like an addict aching for a sweet taste of sin, but you can’t hide from us, Bailey. Because we see who you really are. You can’t resist our darkness, can you? You know why that is?” I glare daggers at Jason, his mask almost luminous in the moonlight, and I hate him because he’s right.
Who are they?
Are they from one of my classes?
How the hell do they know me?
