"Get away from me!" It was a plea, a demand, a battle cry. She wouldn't go quietlyor be extinguished without leaving her mark or fighting tooth and nail for every second that pulsed through her veins.
Carol's knuckles ached, and her arms felt heavy as lead. A vicious swipe from the attacker sent her stumbling backward, her pulse thundering in her ears. Weak light glinted off the edge of the nightstand, where the silhouette of a lamp promised a fleeting chance at defense.
"Get away!"
Her voice was a razor slicing through the thick air. She lunged, fingers grazing the ceramic base, her grip slipping but just holding.
The assailant surged forward, a mass of dark intent. Carol swung the lamp like a club, its arc short-lived. The figure's hand snatched it mid-flight, wrenching it away with brute force. It happened too fast—her only weapon was now in their control.
"Please—"
The plea evaporated as pain exploded across her temple. White-hot, searing. A crash resonated as her legs buckled, her body no longer hers to command.
Silence descended, a suffocating blanket. Only the ragged rhythm of Carol's breath pierced the stillness, each inhale a shard of glass in her lungs.
Vision fractured, a kaleidoscope of shadows and light, Carol's mind clawed at consciousness. The floor was cold against her cheek, the texture of the carpet pressing into her skin, offering an anchor in the spinning world. She dragged her body forward,inch by laborious inch, her fingers grappling with the plush pile, seeking leverage, anything to propel her toward safety.
"Help," she gasped, the word a mere whisper, dissipating before it could reach beyond the confines of the room. Her hand flailed, searching for her phone, for a lifeline. It wasn't there—had it been on the nightstand? Had it been knocked away in the struggle?
Her attacker's breaths were harsh, ragged storms that filled the space between them. Carol didn't dare look back; she couldn't afford to lose the precious focus required to inch away from the looming presence.
Darkness crept along the edges of her sight, a creeping tide ready to engulf her. Panic spiked, a fresh surge of adrenaline, but her body betrayed her, sluggish, movements disjointed as if she were submerged in water.
"Please," she tried again, the plea strangled, caught in the throes of encroaching oblivion. Her arm buckled, no longer able to sustain her weight. She felt herself slipping, the room tilting on its axis, the last vestiges of hope flickering out.
This is it, a thought floated up through the fog, detached, observing the end as it unfolded. Her fate, once written in the stars, was now rewritten in violence and shadow.
The darkness welcomed her, an inevitable embrace as the figure above moved closer, their intent clear, final.
Carol's chest rose and fell, slower now, each breath a shallow echo. Silence clawed its way into the room, thick and heavy, settling over the chaos of upturned furniture and scattered belongings.
A final shudder ran through her, muscles going slack. The world narrowed to a point, a single frame of stillness in which she lay surrendered to the inevitable.
Her eyelids fluttered, a last feeble protest before they stilled, the haunted fear that lived in her eyes giving way to emptiness.The air itself seemed to pause, the fabric of the night holding its breath.
The attacker stood motionless, watching as life slipped from Carol's grasp. There was no triumph in their stance, only the quiet certainty of a purpose fulfilled.
On the floor, Carol lay defeated, with the struggle imprinted on the disarray around her. Her once vibrant spirit was now just a fading wisp mingling with the shadows.
No words were spoken. There was no need for them when the silence spoke volumes, a chilling testament to the void left behind. The question lingered, unasked but palpable:
Why?
Chapter 19
I joltedup in my seat, the screams tearing into the silence of the night—a piercing, frantic sound that set my pulse hammering. Instinct took over. I had been working, going over evidence and the case files repeatedly, without being able to get to the bottom of this case,so I decided to go for a drive. To clear my thoughts. Without even knowing it, I ended up in front of Will and Angela’s house,wondering about their story. And that’s when I heard it.
The screams didn't let up—desperate, chilling. Every second counted.
I snatched my badge from the passenger seat, put it around my neck, and opened the car's front door. The Florida air slapped me awake. I sprinted across the dew-damp grass, my gun firm in my grip, ready for whatever hell awaited.
My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a drumroll urging me faster. The soles of my feet slapped the pavement, and my breath came in ragged gasps as I raced toward the house. Adrenaline surged, turning my blood to fire, honing every sense to a razor's edge. The night air was a humid whip againstmy skin, but inside, I burned with a single purpose—to stop whatever horror those screams had promised.
"Carol!" I shouted, reaching the front doorandhammering my fist into it.
No answer, only the echo of my own voice against the silent facade of the house. "It's Agent Thomas! Open up!"
Still nothing. Panic clawed at my gut, the silence more terrifying than the screams that had ceased.
