He wasn’t here to fuck me. He was here to kill me. This was just…what? Entertainment first? One last bit of fun before finishing the job he started?
And I gave myself to him willingly. Pulled him into this room. Begged him to be rough.
Move. MOVE NOW.
Terror floods my system, washing away any lingering pleasure and leaving only pure, animal survival instinct.
The water is still running, which means he’s distracted. This is my only chance.
I scramble off the bed as silently as possible, my hands shaking so badly I can barely grip my torn scrubs. I grab it anyway, along with my underwear. My bra. The mask. And dress quickly.
I need to get out and disappear before he realizes I know who he is.
The door. I could run for the door.
But he’s faster than me. Stronger. If he hears me trying to leave that way, I’m dead before I can even make it to the hallway.
Then my eyes darts to the window. There’s a fire escape outside.
My hands fumble with the lock, precious seconds ticking by while the water still runs in the bathroom.Come on, come on, come on.
The lock finally gives and I ease the window open as quietly as possible. The cold night air hits my naked skin and I almost gasp but manage to swallow it.
First, the door. Make him think I left that way.
I unlock it quietly, the soft click barely audible over the running water, then leave it slightly ajar.
Then I move back to the window and climb through onto the freezing metal of the fire escape, my bare feet screaming in protest against the cold.
Behind me, the water shuts off.
I climb down as fast as my shaking limbs will carry me, not caring about the noise now, not caring about anything except getting away. The metal stairs are slippery and cold and my injured feet leave smears of blood, but I don’t stop.
When I hit the alley, I run.
Barefoot, mostly naked from how shredded my scrubs are, I run like the devil himself is chasing me. Because he might be.
He was going to kill you. He fucked you and then he was going to kill you and you handed yourself to him like a gift.
I run until I can’t breathe, until my lungs are burning and my legs are shaking and spots dance in my vision. And even then, I don’t stop.
Because I just escaped death for the second time tonight.
And I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll get a third chance.
6
DANTE
I hear the sound of the lock clicking while I’m in the bathroom running warm water over a cloth.
The sound cuts through the running water, too loud in the quiet intimacy we just shared, and something about it feels wrong.
I pause for a second to listen, and when I don’t hear anything, I turn off the water immediately because my instincts never lie.
“Hey, what’s?—”
The words die in my throat the instant I step out of the bathroom. The room is empty. She’s gone.
