It had taken an hour of silent sobbing before you found the will to stand up. Unfortunately, you just fell back to the ground, the gash in your thigh making it impossible to move your legs without feeling like you were on fire. Gasping for air, you tried to crawl, your mind and body deadest on escaping.
The man with the goggles had left a while ago, not saying anything as he pulled his axe out; leaving you too horrified to react. Even now you couldn't bare to look at your hand. You had expected one of them to come back soon; to continue questioning and tormenting you. At first you were willing to wait for them; all thoughts of escape severed. Just like your finger. You cringed at the thought, continuing to drag your legs along until you stumbled to the door.
But after waiting for a while, you decided you couldn't give up. You wanted to live. You were going to live, dammit.
Grasping your good hand around the knob, you tugged desperately. It was locked. A part of you knew it would be locked, those monsters despite how twisted they were- were not stupid. Of course they'd lock the door. Forcing yourself to calm down, you glanced around the room. What were you going to do now? You doubted they'd leave a spare key in the room, and you doubted you had the strength to bust the door down.
As if to worsen the situation, you began to hear footsteps; heavy footsteps.
First you felt fear crawling up your spine, followed by the throbbing pain that plagued your body. You knew it was about to get worse. Much, much worse. Then suddenly it hit you. With a grim frown, you forced yourself onto your feet again, clenching your teeth to keep from yelping in pain. You didn't have time to crawl around, and your determination to escape was far greater then the pain in your thigh. You quickly headed towards the lamp, searching for the plug before yanking it out. The room was consumed by darkness, and following nothing but instinct, you lifted up the lamp, making you way back to the door. You pressed your back into the wall, your hands tightening around the lamp. You felt the flesh of your ruined finger press up against the dusty object, making you wince in bitter pain.
The next sound you heard was that of a key, soft crinkling followed before the door was thrown open; slamming against the opposing wall. You were glad you chose to hide on this side, rather then the other. Having that door slam into your stomach didn't sound too good. The man, who you recognized as Jeff, quickly took a step into the room. Before he could notice you missing, you quickly you lashed out; slamming the lamp into his head. You heard him groan as he fell with a thud, his hands coming to examined the back of his head.
You were hoping the impact would knock him out, but somehow he was conscious as he tried to sit up. Something primal inside you sparked as you dropped the lamp on his head again, delivering a few swift kicks into his stomach. God, how you hated this man.
Your breathing was ragged by the time you were done; all of your anger condensed into your kicks. It felt good to get a little rage out, to hurt those who were hurting you. What made it a little unsatisfying was the fact that he was still conscious. You watched as he began to get up, the fire in his eyes intensifying. Why wouldn't he just stay down?
You knew you couldn't outrun him, not with that gash in your thigh. So instead you looked to the door, noticing the key was still in place. Quickly you moved over his stirring body, getting outside the room before pulling the door closed. You decided to grab the key before turning to scan your surroundings. Hopefully he wasn't capable of busting down a door either. Your kicks must have at least ensured that, right?
A sinking part of you doubted that. There seemed to be something off about that man, there seemed to be something off about both of them actually. Something wrong. Inhumane. A sharp bang pulled you out of your thoughts, and you quickly turned to see the door shake. He was on his feet already?
"You fucking bitch!" you heard the man yell, shaking you to your core as you took a few steps back, "Open this damn door, now!"
Yeah, no.
Quickly you began to run down the hall, adrenaline finding its way into you body, making the pain in your leg more bearable. The room you were in was at the end of the hall, and by the looks of it there were no other rooms, but instead a wooden stair set. You dashed over the steps, finding yourself in a fairly large room. It wasn't very fancy, there was a single mattress in one corner, and another door at one end. Your attention though, was on the large wooden door on the other side: the exit. You practically clawed at the handle, your breathing heavy as you tore it open.
Now you realized where you were. A cabin. A damn cabin in the middle of god-knows-where. At least the other man was nowhere in sight, perhaps if you run you could find a road; some form of civilization. Anything beats standing around and waiting for Jeff to come barging out with his knife in hand.
After inhaling as much air as you could, you shot off, forcing your legs to move as you ran into the woods. Adrenaline kept you coordinated, and somehow you managed not to trip on the roots and sticks that littered the uneven ground. You instinctively skirted around trees, using your hands to keep balance. Finally, you began to realize how even the ground was getting, how the foliage was concentrated on the sides. You were on a trail. A trail! That means people came by here, civilization couldn't be much further.
As an answer to your prayers, you began to see the edges of a road. Brushing past another tree, you found yourself standing at the side of a freeway. You practically cried out as you fell to your knees, a wide grin etching over your features. You made it, you were going to survive. But it wasn't over yet, you still had to find your way into town. Still, a bit of optimism returned as you began to walk along the road. The adrenaline was slowly fading, forcing you to endure a little more pain as you dragged your battered leg along.
You were limping around for little over ten minutes when you saw a pair of headlights. A sleek, SUV drove by; coming to an abrupt stop by you. You sighed gratefully as a man exited the car; he was dressed in a business-like suit.
"Oh god miss, are you okay?" he was by your side in no time, worry visible in his aged features. You couldn't form a proper reply, and to your surprise you felt tears well up in your eyes. You realized now how scared you truly were, how terrifying and traumatizing the whole ordeal was. The man slowly helped you into the car, placing you gently in the front seat before heading over to the driver's side. For a second you were concerned, could you trust this stranger? Hesitantly you glanced around, your body relaxing when you noticed an empty car seat in the back. He had kids, he was a family man, a father.
"What happened to you?" he began to ask as he pulled his seatbelt on, "Were you alone out here?"
"Kidnapped..." your voice was far weaker then you originally had thought, "Please, before they find us."
He nodded vigorously, his hand going to his phone as he tossed it to you. "Call the cops," his attention then turned to your ruined hand, "If you can..." He was concerned, truly and honestly concerned for you. That feeling alone made you relax a little as you used your good hand to dial in the numbers. He began to drive as you pulled the phone to your ear, your eyes on the passing trees as you waited.
"911, what's your emergency?"
You began to explain your entire situation, briefly mentioning the kidnapping and torment before going over your escape and current situation. The lady listened intently before promising to send a squad to find the cabin and arrest the kidnappers. She also sent an ambulance to meet you down the road.
As she hung up, you handed the phone to the man, who quietly took it before turning his attention to the road.
"That sounds awful..." he sighed, his eyes darting to a water bottle that laid on the dashboard, "Are you thirsty?"
You nodded gratefully, carefully picking up the bottle before attempting to open it. Your injured hand made that impossible, and the man paused in his driving to open it for you. The feeling of water rushing down your throat was like heaven. It was cooling, refreshing in the best way. You had never realized how great water was until now.
Exhaling softly, you placed the bottle back, allowing your head to fall back. Slowly you closed your eyes, relaxing completely. The pain you felt become a soft throbbing in the back of your mind, your instincts becoming less alert as you felt your energy slipping. It wasn't a bad feeling, instead it was an exhausting feeling. Like an urge to go to sleep, to close your eyes and let go for a while. Honestly you welcomed it, the idea of resting sounded so refreshing. You were safe now anyways; a little nap would be good for you.
Not that it mattered, you doubted you could resist the exhaustion that was taking you over.
Your eyes quickly snapped open as you heard a scream, the whole car coming to a harsh stop as you were thrown up. If it wasn't for the seatbelt, you would surely go flying out the windshield.
"What in the world..." the man beside you gasped, and you felt dread wash over you at the sight of the axe sticking out of his chair; inches away from his head. Before either of you could move, your door was pulled open; two strong hand came to grab the collar of your sweater, pulling you out and tossing you onto the ground. You couldn't help but cry out as your wounded body hit the hard concrete that made up the road.
No, no, no, no! This couldn't be happening. You had escaped them, you had gotten away, there was no way they caught up to you. Despite all that, you couldn't deny the sight of the man in front of you; his body heaving, indicating he had run quite a distance to catch up. His goggles were over his eyes this time, face mask pulled up, giving you no glimpses of his expression. No idea of what he was thinking, of how angry he could be.
You began to climb onto your feet, watching as he reached into the car to grab his axe before turning to you. Your hand ached as you put pressure on it, but regardless you stood up, your body backing up as he stalked forward. His hands twitched as he moved, making him more intimating as the axes ticked in his grip.
"Don't hurt her!" you felt a mix of emotions as the man from earlier had stepped out of the car, his hand grasped around his phone, "We've already called the cops, they'll be here any second."
You doubted that threat would be enough to get them to back off. Your stomach wrenched at the thought of the psycho digging his axe into the man. He tried to help you, to save you; and he was going to die for that. A part of you wanted to say something, to catch your tormentor's attention, to spare that man from a world of pain. But you couldn't do it. You were terrified, to terrified to speak, to terrified to do anything.
"Fucking hate heroes." You heard another voice, this one darker, rugged. In a blur of white, the man was on the ground; Jeff crouching over him, his boot pressed against the mans throat. "Assholes thinking they're all good and sweet, how fucking adorable." He sneered, his knife flashing before he carried on to dig into the mans back. You couldn't bare to look, your eyes falling to the ground as you heard his screams and screech's, followed by gushing, squishy noises.
"I-if you run." The goggled-man was speaking now, his tone as dangerous as ever as he took slow, calculated steps towards you, "I'm going to take your fu-fucking head off."
You could only glare at him. These monsters just killed a man for helping you, they were going to kill you too. Why? Why was all this happening to you? The fear you had become so accustomed too began to die down, something fiery replacing it. Anger. You were angry. Angry at these psychos for doing this to you, for hurting someone because of you. For forcing you into this position; making you weak and terrified. Never in your life had you thought that you would stand idly by while someone got hurt.
These killers had turned you into something you weren't. And you hated them for it. If you were going to die today, you were going to go out like a badass.
"Go to hell." You hissed at him, your fists clenching tightly.
He paused for a second, as if he was actually surprised by your words. His head tilted ever so slightly before he continued walking, a slight twitch shaking his body before he grabbed you by the throat; pulling you close. Out here, without the smell of that basement plaguing your senses; you were actually able to take in the man in front of you. His scent was odd, he smelled like sandalwood and smoke. Like a fireplace; all cozy and warm without the security. His eyes matched his scent; the shade of brown deep and warm behind his goggles. Unfortunately, his personality contradicted all of that. He was a killer, a monster, a bastard; and you hated him.
"G-ge-getting brave, are we?" his masked face was inches from yours, his height forcing him to lean slightly to make eye-contact. Glaring at him, you drew your good hand back before slamming it into his face with as much power as you could. Damn that felt good.
"It's like your be-be-begging me to hurt you." His voice was strangely composed as he touched his jaw, feeling it carefully before straightening up to look at you again. You watched him lift his axe, turning it so that the handle part was facing you. Then in a swift movement he brought it down to your face. You braced yourself for impact, waiting for the inevitable. It struck you like lego brick. Yes a lego brick. As if someone flicked a small little toy at you. It was nothing compared to the truck like force you had expected. Heck, it didn't even hurt.
"Boop." He mumbled, tapping your face with it again.
What the actual hell....?
You were about to say something stupid when Jeff grabbed your wounded hand, throwing you onto the ground before slamming his foot onto it. You screamed a horrifying scream. Your vision becoming incredibly blurry as pain drowned out everything else.
"That's for hitting me with a lamp." He growled, before lifting his foot. You were trying to adjust to the agony when he pressed his boot into the wound on your thigh. God, he wasn't going to show you any mercy, was he? Tears began to drip down your face as he kicked your thigh to the side, forcing your legs apart before sitting down in between them. His knee continued to dig into the wound; the pain making it difficult to breathe.
"When I'm done with you," he dug his knee in deeper, and you felt a new wave of blood gush through the sleeve, "You're going to wish I could kill you... Let's start with that fucking smile, hmm?"
"Screw you..." you choked the words out, your anger preceding your fear yet again.
"What a wonderful idea." he broke into a fit of laughter at your shocked expression, both his hands coming to tighten around your legs, drawing you in closer. The thought of such a thing sickened you. Curse your choice of words!
Desperately you glanced at the other man, he was standing off to the side, axes hanging in hand as he just looked at you. He'd say something right? Stop Jeff, right? Of course he wouldn't. Both of them were twisted, both of them wanted to hurt you. Jeff was just more straightforward about it.
"Get the hell away!" your tone was laced with pain, sounding weak and frail. Clearly amused by it, Jeff only gave another chuckle, this time his eyes lighting up as slammed his fist into your jaw. You gasped as your head snapped to the side.
"Can you fucking shut up?" he rolled his eyes, before his hand grasped your mouth. His fingers forced your lips apart as he brought his knife closer, "I should cut your tongue out." You thrashed at the simple idea, trying yet again to fight him, to get away. He frowned at that, his hand releasing you before he struck you once again, harder then the first time.
"J-J-Jeff, we don't have time for this." The other man finally intervened. You were beyond thankful at this, perhaps the goggled-stranger wasn't so bad. "Fuck her after we g-get to the cabin." And never mind, they're both horrible.
"You're killing the mood." Jeff mumbled.
"G-g-get up." He shook his head disapprovingly, turning his attention to the woods.
"Look at that, Toby's a big boy now." The killer on top of you stood up now, his attention on the other man now, "Must be nice being the big mans pet."
"What was that?"
Oh shit. The way his voice dropped sent alarm bells ringing in your mind. That tone made one thing clear; this man was not to be fucked with.
"Did I stutter?" Jeff mused, toying with his knife.
The other man- Toby was what Jeff had called him- only glared. His eyes visibly narrowing as he lifted his axe. The tension was thick, suffocating. You attempted to back away, to get away as Toby stalked towards Jeff, his entire body twitching. The hooded-killer just smirked, his grin reaching his limits as he waited for the other man to make the first move.
Everything suddenly went still as another noise was heard. Sirens. Police sirens. The call, you had called them, they were coming! You were going to be okay! You breathed out a shaky, exhausted breath.
The two killers watched the road, noticeably surprised as the squad cars approached.
"Lucky bitch." Jeff looked at you grimly, anger burning behind his eyes before he turned away, dashing into the woods.
Toby on the other hand didn't move, his gaze darting from you to the now parking squad cars. A police officer quickly leapt out of the car, his gun trained on Toby in no time.
"Put the axe down and get on the ground. Now!" the man ordered.
Toby only watched him, his eyes landing on you one final time before he bolted. The officer shot him in the back, and to your utter shock he carried on running, as if the bullet had no effect. The officer seemed as surprised as you, but rather then giving chase he quickly came to your aid. You heard other cops behind him, a few mumbling to each other, while a group ran the way Toby had.
"It's okay miss, you're going to be okay."