Wait. Didn’t I close that?
Lightning flashed again, exposing a momentary glimpse of the entire room.
Suddenly, I had this weird feeling that something was wrong. I could sense another presence around me, even though it appeared that I was alone in the house.
My expression turned serious, and I set the glass down on the countertop. I reached for the knife in the rack and armed myself with it, then began slowly walking toward the east window.
As I drew closer, I noticed a stain at the base of the window. A set of muddy footprints.
Fuck.
My breath hitched, and panic set in.
Someone was in my house.
I tried to reach for my phone, then I remembered I had left it in my bedroom. So I turned around instantly and sprinted toward the stairs.
That’s when two masked men dashed out of the shadows like creatures of the night. I screamed, slashing the knife through the air. One slipped behind me with a single sweep and grabbed me by the waist.
Without hesitation, I jabbed the blade into his arm, forcing him to let go. He stumbled backward, groaning with the knife still buried in his flesh.
The other rushed at me, his footsteps heavy and menacing. Reflexively, I grabbed the nearest table lamp and smashed it into his skull. In the same instant, I kicked him in the balls as hard as I could.
His knees knocked, and he clutched his groin as he dropped to the floor, groaning. I raced up the stairs, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“Get over here!” a deep voice bellowed in accented English.
A hand grabbed my leg from below, the grip tightening by the second. I glanced down and there he was, the guy with a blade in his arm. He’d stumbled onto the steps and was holding on to my leg like a lifeline.
“Let…go!” I yelled, kicking him in the face over and over until blood began seeping from underneath his mask.
I might’ve broken his nose.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” He pulled against my leg, dragging me down the steps with a single tug.
My ribs crashed violently into the wooden edges, but my brain was too alert to register the pain. With all that adrenaline coursing through my blood, all I could think of right now was how to survive the night.
We both groaned at the base of the stairs, each struggling to rise. By then, the second man was already on his feet, glaring at me with murderous intent.
I spotted my keys on the table and made a run for them without thinking twice. The man with the blade in his arm charged at me, his strong hands seizing my waist from behind.
I struggled against his grip, screaming for help, arms and legs flailing in the air. The second man approached me with asyringe in his hand. They wanted to drug me. I had no idea what he was about to inject me with, and there was no telling whether it was lethal.
Adrenaline kicked in, and driven by sheer survival instinct, I responded immediately. I lowered my head, my chin resting on my chest as I gathered momentum.
A split second later, I slammed the back of my head into my attacker’s face. He dropped me immediately, groaning like a wounded beast. I yanked the knife from his arm, the blade tearing through his flesh.
Blood spilled over the floor.
By now, the guy with the syringe was close enough. But before he could make any moves, I dropped to his feet and drove the same knife into his boot.
He cried out in pain, his legs shaking. The syringe slipped from his hand as he looked down at the knife pinning his foot to the floor.
I rushed over to the table, snatched the keys off the surface, and sprinted toward the door.
The men were groaning behind me, furious.
I fumbled with the keys at the door more than I’d intended, my heart racing. I’d hurt those men in ways that even shocked me, so if I got caught, I’d be done for.
