Darker thoughts claw into my brain as my pulse races faster, my arms knocking away branches as I hurtle through the woods.
What if none of this is a game?
What ifAchillesis the killer of the two unidentified bodies in Hawthorne Hollow? What if all of this has been an elaborate way for him to get me into the woods so he can cut out my eyes and carve a heart into my chest?
Iknowdeep inside me that it can’t be true. But the faster I run, and the hotter my blood pumps, the more my non-reasoning lizard brain takes over.
And so pure, naked,actual fearis roaring through my veins when a gloved hand lurches out of the darkness right next to me and grabs a hank of my hair.
“Caught you.”
I scream blue fucking murder as Achilles yankshard, jerking me right off my feet and sending me crashing to the ground. I kick and thrash in a blind panic, clawing at the air before he grabs my flailing arms at the wrists and slams them to the forest floor on either side of me. My knee jerks up reflexively, and Achilles grunts as my knee connects with his balls.
He doesn’t let go, but his grip loosens enough so that I can scramble away from him. I lurch to my feet to hurl myself through the branches.
I don’t get very far.
A hand grabs my ankle. Gravity spins and goes upside down as I crash to the ground on my side. I scream and thrash, kicking at the hand on my ankle and trying to claw my way forward.
Then my hand reaches forward one last time, and I realize thereisno forward.
…because I’m at the very edge of the Hawthorne cliffs, seventy feet above the crashing waves below.
My heart vaults up into my throat as I stare in horror at the sheer drop, not even a foot in front of my face.
I don’t get to be scaredfor very long.
Achilles suddenly grabs the back of my yoga pants andpulls, hard. I scream as he rips them and my panties down, scraping them over my ass and my thighs as I try to fight him off.
Cold metal teases against my ass, then I hear a ripping sound and feel the fabric around my hips go slack.
He’s just cut off my fucking pants.
The metal of the blade brushes my thighs, making me flinch as he shreds my pants the rest of the way off. A gasp rips from my throat as he flips me over roughly onto my back and straddles my hips. I kick and flail, choking and screaming as he grabs the front of my hoodie and shoves the knife underneath it. I shudder when I feel the tipjustgraze the skin of my belly and my sternum before he quickly jerks his arm back.
Holy fuck.
The knife cuts through my shirt and hoodie like butter, shredding them in two as he slices higher, all the way up to my neck, spilling my bare breasts free.
“Is this what you wanted,little prey?”
In this moment, it’s not Achilles growling the words.
It’s a monster.
A beautiful nightmare far past anything I’ve watched on MaskTok or read in the filthiest books.
The voice grates like stone on stone through his mask as he viciously shoves my thighs apart and pushes between them.
My eyes bulge as his muscles ripple, his gloved hand holding the knife sliding between my legs.
“Achilles—!”
I choke out a scream, thinking for a fraction of a second that he’s going to bring the serrated blade to my pussy. But at the very last moment he flips the knife, and it’s the hilt that drags electrically and sinfully against my sensitive folds.
“I said, is this what you wanted,” he snarls, rubbing the handle of the hunting knife slowly back and forth across my pussy.
Mortifying, I start to react.
