AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Y-yeah," Megan stammered, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that something was amiss. As they continued to drive, the houses lining the streets became fewer and farther apart, replaced by dark, looming trees that cast eerie shadows across the road. Her heart rate picked up, each beat pounding in her ears like a warning drum.
"Are you a good swimmer, Megan?" he asked, his voice light and casual as if discussing the weather.
"Swimmer?" She furrowed her brow, thrown off by the sudden change in topic. "I-I guess so, why?"
"Always good to know," he replied, his smile never faltering. "You never know when you might need that skill."
Megan's thoughts raced alongside the passing scenery, struggling to find any logic or reason in his words. She gripped the door handle, her knuckles turning white as her body instinctively prepared for flight. But the doors were locked, trapping her inside this moving metal cage. She swallowed hard, her throat dry and tight.
"Really, we should turn around," she insisted, her voice wavering slightly. "My parents are going to worry."
"Don't worry, Megan," he said, his tone still cheerful but now carrying a hint of steel beneath the surface. "We'll get you home, eventually."
As the van continued to speed farther and farther away from her parents' house, Megan's thoughts turned inward. She searched her memories for any sign that this man was not who he claimed to be, anything that could explain the chilling dread that now consumed her. And with each passing moment, the image of the rope and duct tape in the backseat loomed larger and more sinister in her mind.
The van's engine hummed ominously as the headlights pierced through the darkness, casting eerie shadows on the road ahead. Megan's heart pounded in her chest, each beat resonating with her mounting fear.
"Stop the car!" she demanded, desperation seeping into her voice. "I want to get out!"
"Sorry, no can do," he responded with a smirk, his eyes never leaving the road.
Megan's hands shook as she fumbled for the door handle, tugging at it with all her might. The lock held firm, refusing to relent under her frantic efforts. Her breathing grew rapid and shallow as panic clawed at the edges of her mind.
"Unlock the doors!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Let me out!"
"Ah, now why would I do that?" he replied, his tone sickeningly sweet. "You're mine now, Megan."
Her stomach twisted into knots, revulsion mingling with the terror that threatened to consume her. What did he mean by that? And what did he have planned for her? Images of the rope and duct tape flashed before her eyes, only serving to heighten her fear.
"Please," she begged, tears streaming down her face. "I just want to go home."
"Home?" he mused aloud, as if considering her words for the first time. "Well, we'll see about that."
Megan's thoughts raced, searching for any possible means of escape. She glanced at the glove compartment, wondering if there might be something inside that could help her. A tool, a weapon, anything.
"Looking for this?" he asked, holding up a small knife, its blade glinting in the dim light of the dashboard. "Don't worry, it won't hurt... much."
Sobs wracked her body as she realized the gravity of her situation. He had complete control over her, and there was nothing she could do about it. She felt sick, powerless, and completely alone.
"Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse with fear. "Don't hurt me."
"Aw, don't cry, sweetheart," he cooed, his words dripping with false sympathy. "You'll see. We're going to have so much fun together."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The dull morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow on the white sheets. Morgan stirred, her body aching from the previous day's endeavors. She blinked groggily, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. As she rolled over, she became aware of a warmth beside her, and her eyes snapped open in shock.
Derik lay next to her, naked and grinning. His lean form seemed out of place in her bed, as though he were an apparition borne from the depths of her subconscious. Her heart raced with a mixture of confusion and desire.
"Derik?" Morgan's voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder would shatter the moment. "What are you doing here?"
"Hey, Morgan." His smile was intoxicating, his blue eyes shining with mischief. He reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, fingertips grazing her cheek gently. "Don't worry about it. Everything's going to be okay."
Morgan's mind reeled at the sensation of his touch, her body betraying her hardened exterior. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, her pulse pounding in her ears. She knew she should question him further, but found herself unable to resist the allure of his presence.
Suddenly, Derik's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing as he reached under the pillow. Morgan's heart clenched in her chest as he withdrew a gleaming knife, its razor-sharp edge glinting in the dim light. Her breath caught in her throat, and she tried to back away, but her body refused to obey.
"Derik, what are you doing?" she choked out, barely able to speak through her terror.
