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The body stays in the shadows, and goosebumps pop along my arms and legs.
“Archer?” I mumble.
The body moves forward slightly, and all I can see are long legs covered in black.
“Kyler?” I whisper.
Another step, and their top is revealed, covered in a black zip-up. A broad chest, muscular, though I can’t tell who it is.
“Creed? Whoever it is, I don’t want to fuck around.” My voice shakes, panic lancing through my body.
One more step, and my eyes widen.
“Reign?” I whimper.
The masked man cocks his head to the side. He’s in black, from head to toe, with a white mask covering his face, black covering the lips and eyes. There are cut-outs on the eyes, but I can’t tell whose eyes they are, not in the slightest. They look black from here, and there is no kindness in them.
Only death.
The masked man is in clothes I’ve never seen before, making it even more difficult to tell.
Who is he?
His sweatshirt is zipped all the way to the neck, and the hood covers his head, tucked around the mask so it’s impossible to even see the color of his hair. He has on black leather gloves, as well as black jeans, and black combat boots.
The black doesn’t scare me, though. It’s the large, silver knife in his hand. He grips it tightly, and the blade glints in the moonlight, shining directly in my eye.
Holy shit.
“What do you want?” I whisper, my voice shaking. I try to be as inconspicuous as possible as I paddle my hands beneath the water, working my way toward the edge of the pool. I feel at a disadvantage here. There’s no way I’d get out of the water in time if he rushed me, but if I make it out, there’s a small chance I could survive.
The masked man says nothing to me. He rocks from his heels to his toes as he takes another step. I swallow down my fear as I make my way to the stairs, trying to seem as if I’m not even paying attention.
“Who are you?” I cry out, wondering if I scream at the top of my lungs if anyone will hear me, or if this masked man has already murdered everyone inside, and I’m the last one left.
Another step, and I know I have no more time to wait. I roll off my floaty, my body splashing into the pool. It’s a shock to my system, and I reach out, my fingers wrapping around the cool metal of the railing as I pull myself up. I can hear the shuffling of footsteps, quickly making their way closer.
My feet pound against the stone steps as I rush out of the pool. I glance over my shoulder, seeing his feet as he rounds the corner, making his way toward me. I sprint into the grass, a scream ripping from my throat as I lunge toward the fence, my chest slamming against the iron rods.
“Help me!” I shout at the top of my lungs. My fingers grip the edge of the fence, and I lift myself up, my stomach pressing into the pointed tops.
I wince as it digs into my skin, scraping across my abdomen. “Someone, help me!” I roar.
I swing my feet over to the other side just as the crunching of grass hits my ears, the masked man too close for comfort.
The sound of the knife cutting through the air makes my blood turn to ice, moments before I can feel the burning pain across my arm. I let go of the cold fence, falling to my butt on the ground.
Oomph.
I let out a cry as blood flows from my arm to my wrist. Glancing through the fence, I scream again as his arm holding the knife shoots through the rods, attempting to cut me again. I scramble away, tears streaming down my face as a sob breaks free.
I don’t glance back as I shove to my feet, racing around the corner of the house. A scream bellows from my throat as water and blood drip from my body. A permanent shiver racks every limb, and I grow numb as I run around the side of the house, making my way toward the front. Rushing up the steps, I pound on the door, streaks of blood leaving their mark on the dark wood.
“Someone, open up! Please! Archer! Posie! Help!” Ipound, pound, pound, until the door swings open, and I fall forward, my knees crumbling to the wooden floor and my hand throbbing in pain.
“What the—Lakyn? What the hell is going on?” Creed asks, a shocked look on his face. “What the fuck happened to you?” He lifts me up by my armpits, hauling me into his arms. “Are you bleeding?”
My breaths heave from my chest, and I can’t help the panic attack that works its way through me. My uninjured hand goes to my heart, and it feels as if it’s about to bust from my rib cage and flail to the ground. I look up at Creed, wanting to say anything, but my words become trapped, weighed down by the fear.
