Page 135 of Mine To Hunt

This man did not just stalk me from the shadows. He orchestrated everything. The fear, the calls, the chase, and now he is ending it with his own hands.

A strange warmth mixes with the horror in my stomach, and I do not know whether to feel grateful or terrified by how safe that thought makes me feel.

The masked man raises the hammer again, gripping it tighter this time. The stalker’s eyes bulge with fresh panic. "No. No, wait! Don’t! I can tell you things! Important things!"

The hammer swings down hard, slamming into the stalker’s already injured side. The sound is horrible. A deep, wet crunch as ribs give way under the force.

Blood sprays outward in a bright arc, splattering across the ground and the stalker’s own shirt. His body jerks violently, and a fresh scream tears from his throat, high and animal-like. "Aaaah! Stop! Oh God, my ribs!"

"You should have thought about the consequences before you started this game." The masked man says calmly, lifting the hammer once more. "Your lack of control brought you here."

The stalker coughs up a mouthful of blood, his face pale and slick with sweat. “Please! Please… I'm begging you! I swear I didn’t mean for it to go this far. She was just a job at first, that’s all. I got carried away. Please! I'll do whatever you want! Anything!!!”

Another swing. This time the hammer connects with the stalker’s arm. The bone shatters with a loud snap that I feel in my own teeth.

Skin splits open, and jagged white fragments push through the torn flesh as blood pours out in thick streams. The stalker howls, his whole body convulsing. "My arm! You broke my fucking arm! I’m begging you on my knees!"

The masked man pauses, hammer raised high again. "Your pain is nothing compared to what you put her through. Every night she spent afraid, every moment you stole from her peace. You do not get to bargain your way out of that."

I watch it all, my heart pounding so hard I feel dizzy. Each crack of bone and spray of blood makes my stomach churn, but I cannot look away.

The blood is everywhere now. Dark red soaking into the dirt, the metallic smell thick in the air. But what hits me hardest is the emotion twisting inside me.

This man is killing for me. He is destroying someone who wanted to destroy me, and the sight of it makes something shift deep in my soul.

I feel protected in a way I have never felt before, yet the violence is so raw that it scares me too.

The stalker’s voice grows weaker, but he keeps trying. "Listen… I’ll tell you everything. Just one more chance. Don’t end me like this. Please, have mercy."

“You made a mistake you won’t live to repeat.” The masked man answers, his words steady and cold. He raises the hammer once more, aiming higher this time.

Just as the hammer begins its downward arc and it looks like the masked man is about to finish him, the stalker suddenly screams out in raw panic. "I was hired!"

The words tear out of him, desperate and frantic, as if they are the only thing that might save him. They land heavily in the air between us.

For a brief moment, everything freezes.

The masked man’s arm stops mid-swing, the hammer hovering inches above the stalker’s head. The sudden pause feels unnatural, like time itself has hesitated.

My breath catches in my throat.

"I was hired!" The stalker repeats, his voice cracking, eyes wide with terror. "Someone paid me to do this. I swear I…"

The words cut off abruptly. His body jerks violently, a harsh choking sound ripping from his throat. His eyes bulge as if something inside him has suddenly seized control.

For a second he looks confused, even frightened by what his own body is doing. Then blood spills from the corner of his mouth. Not a small trickle. A thick, dark stream.

He gags, coughing wetly as more blood pours out, splattering across his chin and the ground beneath him. His hands claw weakly at the dirt, fingers trembling like his strength is draining all at once.

"What.." He tries to say, but the word collapses into another choking cough. His entire body convulses.

I stare in horror as his muscles seize uncontrollably. His back arches sharply off the ground, eyes rolling upward until only thewhites show. Foam mixed with blood bubbles from his lips as he struggles to breathe.

And then nothing. His eyes stare blankly at nothing, mouth frozen in a final, silent scream.

I feel dizzy from exhaustion and shock. My head swims, and black spots dance at the edges of my vision. The world feels too heavy, too real, and I cannot hold myself up anymore.

The masked man turns toward me then. He steps closer, and this time he does not feel distant or mysterious. He feels physically present, solid and warm in a way that cuts through the cold fear still clinging to me.