Hello Darkness

Chapter Thirty

I understand why people love the smell of rain, it's fresh and earthy. As it slips down my bare arms it seems to cleanse. I tilt my head back onto the brick, succumbing to its rhythmic beat, counting the cars as they pass in the procession. By the time I go back in, the church will be empty, and I won't have to feel their lurking eyes.

Maybe I want a fresh start—a new life. I could leave now, and they would never find me. It doesn't matter where I'd go. Just out of this town away from all of this. I could get a job anywhere, maybe New York or California. Someplace it would be easy to blend in—someplace they don't know my name...

I don't open my eyes when footsteps splash in the water heading my way. It's about time they found me. I've been out here on my own for a while. My black dress fully drenched and not a curl remaining intact.

A canvas bags slips over my head and I do the only thing I know how—I scream. I shouldn't have come outside—had I taken that one second to look up, I could have stopped him, but Talum didn't teach me how to defend myself when I was blindsided. A hand presses the bag into my mouth, silencing me. Huge arms like heavy, slick sausages curl around me, immobilizing my upper body.

I thrust against my captor's chest and kick back hoping to connect with their shins. When I do, I crash into the gravel.

"Stupid bitch. Shit," he grunts, his feet shifting in the stones. "They must've got to you already."

Before I can stand, he pushes me back into the gravel, my knees grinding against the stones, mud clogging the wounds. Cool metal surrounds my wrists, then a series of clicks until the cuffs pinch my skin.

"Stand up." He yanks my hands and pulls my hair, shooting a flare of pain down my neck. "That's better." His voice is so close to my ear that his onion breath seeps through the fabric of the bag.

My heart pounds against my ribs, so hard I fear they might fracture. This is it—he found me. I feel so small as the man pushes me. The leather seats of the vehicle scrapes across the sticky, wet skin of my arms and chest, smelling of mint cigars.

My friends have to be coming for me soon. I've been gone for too long. They would see and stop him. I thrash in the seat, but my hope depletes with the click of the door.

My throat stings from my screams. I push the canvas from my mouth, little bits of fiber sticking to my tongue. He hums to the radio, but doesn't bother turning it up. Like he's riding by himself, running an errand, without a care in the world. What would he do to me? Would my fate be the same as the others?

But then it hits me... it will be over. I will no longer live in fear. If he kills me, I will be free, and everyone will be safe. My panic ebbs, considering the thought.

Will I struggle? He will probably like that. These psychopaths are all about power. No. I won't. I will spoil his fun and maybe he'll kill me quicker. I stop thrashing, it's not like I was going to get anywhere with the car moving.

Where is he taking me? He killed the others where they were, but perhaps I'm special.

"Tire yourself out already?" A throaty voice comes from in front of me.

I don't answer.

"I thought your kind was supposed to be super strong or somethin'."

My kind... what in God's name does he mean by that? "You have the wrong person." Through a small hole in the bag the black interior becomes clear. I shift my body, careful not to shift the hole.

He scratches his untamed red-gold beard. "Nah, you're just who we've been looking for."

This wasn't him. They must be taking me to him. "Why are you doing this?"