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But the question is, which one of us is next?
CHAPTER NINE
LAKYN
My eyes slide open, and all I can see is darkness. Pitch black surrounds me, except for the fairy lights I have hanging in the corner of my room.
I glance around, wondering what the hell it was that woke me up. There isn’t a noise now, not even the whistling of the wind. It’s just pure silence, and glancing outside, it’s still the middle of the night.
What the hell was it that woke me up?
I stare out the window for a few moments, wondering if there was some commotion going on, but there is nothing.
So, I lie back down, pulling my fuzzy blanket up to my neck and burrowing myself into the warmth. My head snuggles against my pillow, and immediately, my eyes droop in exhaustion.
Creeeeeeeaaak.
Eyes flying open, I glance toward the corner of my room, seeing a dark shadow standing still in the darkness.
“Hello?” I whisper, fear cloaking my throat.
The shadow doesn’t move, and I almost wonder if I’m dreaming, or imagining it altogether.
“If that’s you, Reign, I swear I’m going to kick your ass,” I whimper.
The figure steps forward, and my eyes widen, seeing the familiar mask.
White against black. A haunting face that will forever be etched in my memory. He steps closer, tilting his head to the side, and a shiver rolls through me.
My limbs lock against my mattress, and I feel paralyzed as I lie still, staring at him as he approaches me slowly.
Dressed in black from head to toe, he blends into the shadows, and I open my mouth, ready to scream, but not a sound comes out. Fear strangling me, silencing me.
He takes another step, so close he could reach out and touch me if he wanted. My eyes widen into saucers, and I glance down, seeing the knife in his hand, clutched tightly in his grip.
Is this the knife he used to cut into my best friend?
The one he used on me?
I begin sweating beneath my clothes as panic clutches me, and this time my mouth opens, prepared to scream. The masked man reacts quickly, stepping forward until he hovers over my body. He presses the smooth end of the blade directly against my lips, digging into the sensitive flesh. I can barely open my mouth, drawing in a shaky, terror-filled breath.
His hand goes to the mattress, the black glove pulling on my blanket, until it’s lowering beneath my ribs. I make a grab for it, but he spins the knife around, pressing the sharp edge directly against my lips instead. I can feel the sharpness threatening my skin as he adds pressure, and I’m worried I’m moments from him cutting into my face.
I want to flinch away from it, yet I’m too afraid to move, only staring up at him. I lower my hands to my sides, clutching my blanket between my fingers.
He drags the knife down, scraping against my lips, over my chin, until he presses it against my neck.
“Please don’t kill me,” I whimper.
He cocks his head to the side, as if he’s curious about my words, about me pleading for my life.
“I’ll do anything,” I whisper.
I wish he didn’t have a knife so I could fight him, but I’m at such a disadvantage, and one wrong move and I could be like Eloise, or worse.
His free hand lifts from the mattress, and he glides the leather of his glove across my collarbone, into the groove of my neck, and up along my jaw. I shiver, fear making goosebumps pop along my skin. He drags his fingers across my lips, pressing on my lower one, opening my mouth.
“What are you going to do to me?” I whimper.
