Page 98 of Shattered In Darkness

The lights snap off. The storm outside groans. The room goes black.

My heart stutters. The dark is absolute. I freeze. My breath clouds the air in shivery bursts. The only sound is the wind and my pulse in my ears. Then I hear him. The skull mask gleams when the clouds drift past the moonlight, then vanishes.

Brody doesn’t run. He doesn’t have to. He calls into the dark. Calm and terrible. “I am going to find you, Bambi. I always do.”

I choke on a sob. My hands fumble along the wall. I knock something over, it shatters at my feet. I flinch. He’ll hear that. He hears everything.

Crouching behind the table, my knees shake. The storm rattles the cabin, shrieks through the seams. The dark is thick, pressing against my face. My vision swims with fear as his boots scrape closer. Not rushing. Taking his time. Enjoying it.

“Keep hiding,” he says. “It won’t matter. You know how this ends.”

I press my fist to my mouth. I want to vanish. I want to become the shadow. But I’m just a trembling, broken thing behind splintered wood. I squeeze my eyes shut. He is everywhere. His presence coils through the room, fills every crack.

There’s a crash. He kicks something aside. The table shudders. I press myself smaller, breath frozen in my chest. The room tilts but I can’t tell if I’m shaking or if the world is. Something brushes my hair. Fingers, gloved and cold. I scream.

Brody grabs my arm, yanking me up. My legs buckle. I claw at his hand but he’s too strong. He pulls me upright, chest-to-chest, mask inches from my face. I scream again, louder. It echoes in the black.

He shoves me against the wall and holds me there with his whole body. His breath is ragged. I feel it through the mask, hot and cruel. “Told you,” he says, voice all ice and hunger. “I always find you.”

I thrash. I try to bite him, punch him, anything. He laughs. It’s an awful sound. I sob. My chest aches; terror slices through me. Shame, too. And something sick shaped with hunger.

He leans close. The mask presses my cheek. “No more running,” he whispers.

The lights flicker, then die for good. The storm screams. The cabin is a tomb. He drags me, still fighting, back through the dark. I can’t see, can’t breathe. All I feel are his hands, the heat of him, the weight of the mask against my skin.

My scream shreds the silence, but he doesn’t let go.

The dark swallows us whole.

31

LOLA

All I can see is the white of his skull mask gleaming in the dark.

The rest of the world is gone. Just him and me, breathless and cold. The wind screams against the cabin, the windows groan under the weight of snow. I can’t see the walls. I can’t see the door. Only that mask, floating, watching, hunting.

My chest heaves as I stumble backward, and hit the edge of the bed. He doesn’t move fast. He doesn’t have to. His boots scrape the wood. He wants me to hear every step.

“You thought you could hide?” His voice is low and deadly calm. “You really think I’d let you disappear, Bambi?”

My fists clench. “Let me go.”

He laughs. The sound is empty, echoing in the dark. “Say it again. I want to hear you beg.”

I turn, shoving past the chair, feeling my way along the wall with shaky fingers. The dark is thick, pressing against my skin, choking me. I hear him move behind me. Slow, controlled, closer.

“Run if you want.” The mask flashes closer. “I know every inch of this place. I know you, Lola. I always find you.”

The storm continues to punch the windows. The power is out, nothing but night and madness. I keep going, heart in my throat, into the kitchen. I bump the table, knock something over. Glass shatters. My breath turns shallow. I crouch, desperate, trying to make myself small. I can’t stop shaking.

He’s coming. I hear it.

“You never learn, do you?” His voice is a mockery. “You want to play games with me in the dark? Fine. Let’s see how long you last.”

I lunge sideways, hands out, searching for anything. A weapon, window, hope. I find a drawer. Silverware. I grip a knife. My palm sweats around the handle. Brody stops just behind me. I feel the weight of his gaze through the bone-white mask. I twist, knife raised.

He laughs again, cruel and hungry. “You gonna stab me, Bambi? Go on. Do it.”