Chapter 2
CALISTA
The branch slashes into my cheek.
Blood trickles down the side of my face, the metallic scent fuelling the punishing rhythm of my feet. Tree roots are such a bitch, but I learned a long time ago how to pick myself up off the ground.
Right foot. Left foot. Right foot...
The rustle of leaves grows louder the closer I get to the creek. My cadence picks up with my speed, the silver charm bouncing wildly against my wrist.
Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left-
My toe snags on a protruding root, but my stride doesn’t falter. I burn it all the way down to the creek, letting the wilderness drink my blood and sweat along the way.
The forbidden forest has always been my favourite spot in Wolf Hollow. Spanning across acres and countless borders, only the bravest dare to enter and only the mad manage to make it out alive.
Well, that’s how the tale goes anyways.
I finally reach my destination and a quick scan tells me the beasts have come out to play.
Savages of the worst kind sit along the river, their canines shinning in the night sky as they take what is deemed to be their own.
Tearing into flesh like a pack of wolves, the group of animals laugh and paw at their victims, dragging out a few more tears and a few more screams.
That is another thing I’ve learned over the years. There is only one species who deserves to be labelled as savage, and it most certainly is not the wild boars.
Oh, no. The true animals are men.
The ones you love. The ones you hate.
They are all the same. A species destined for greed and gluttony, men are the reason the world falls into continuous chaos. They are the push behind the divide between genders, the reason women are deemed as weak and others are deemed unworthy of mention at all.
It was the fault of men I became this way. The carelessness of their actions that drove me to become the nightmare lurking in the forest.
Men are savages but I pride myself on being much, much worse.
Sliding behind the tree, I pull out the knife tucked inside my sports bra. A flick of my wrist sends the curved blade into place, it’s glistening edge sharp and ready to be fed.
My baby will be disappointed he missed out.
“I’ll bring a treat back for you.” I whisper into the night sky, speaking just loud enough for one of the men to look up.
“Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
The weathered man looks around, his wrinkled face and torn clothing ranking him as the low member on the totem pole.
“I could have sworn I heard something.”
The preppy one, the one wearing a rumpled dress shirt, takes a look around and lets out a laugh.
“Has Chester got in your head? We’re not in the maze, man. Chill the fuck out.”
“It wasn’t a man’s voice I heard.” Bloodshot eyes swing in my direction and I can’t help but smile.
“Somebody’s a smart boy.”
The sound of my voice has the other two men jumping to their feet. Wild, panicked eyes whirl around the dark forest until they land on me.
And then they foolishly relax.
“What you doing out here, Blondie?” Clumsily buckling up his pants, the preppy one takes a step towards me, “Looking to crash a party?”
Snickers echo from the third member of the group, a lanky guy who’s looking cockier by the second. The older man stands off to the side, his bleary gaze unfocused but wise enough not to creep closer.
“You tell me.” A purr creeps up my throat as I slink closer, “Is this a party I should be joining?”
The preppy one all but jerks himself off at the salacious tone of my voice. For as big and strong as they paint themselves to be, men truly are the simplest creatures.
Easy to play. Easy to fuck. Easy to kill.
You would think they would learn how to present themselves as a challenge but that seems to have been lost somewhere in their evolution.
“Put her with the others.”
My eyes dart towards the women lying crumpled on the ground. One of them is curled up in a ball, crying softly into her knees. The other is silent and still, her empty eyes staring up at the night sky while dark liquid runs between her legs.
Dead or alive, they’ve both been killed tonight. Disgraced, ruined, and a little bit more afraid of the darkness around them.
It’s the kind of fear that never goes away.
A dirty hand decorated with shiny rings reaches towards me, a slimy smile perfectly in place for a man who’s about to meet his maker.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The old man speaks up, his anxious eyes flicking from me to the preppy puppet, “She’s a Drache.”
That makes him pause.
Unfortunately for him, I don’t give him a chance to collect his thoughts.
Driving my knife deep into his forearm, I twist his arm and throw my body forward. The momentum drives his shoulder up and out of its socket, dislocating the joint and shattering a nicely shaped nose with his own elbow.
Throwing his head back, the man howls with pain, sending a flock of crows screeching into the sky. Their sleek black bodies disappear into the darkness, the familiar ruffle of their wings putting a smile on my face.
“Oh, dear. That looks like it hurts.” Ripping the blade from his flesh, I bring my knee straight into his groin, “I’ll make sure to aim lower next time.”
A gurgled groan escapes the man collapsing on the ground. I snicker, watching the blood ooze from his shoulder while his hands cradle the sensitive flesh below.
The tall one makes a lunge for me, his arms wrapping around my throat and pulling me back against his chest. I purr against the chokehold, feeling his thick muscles bulge against my skin.
“Have you been keeping yourself fit for me? I do love a man who can throw me around.”
“Shut up.” His grip tightens, cutting off my air supply, “Nobody likes a bitch who talks too much.”
Now, that was the wrong thing to say.
Flipping my knife around, I jam it deep into his thigh. His scream pierces through the darkness, sharp and loud but not strong enough to escape the wilderness.
The trees soak in the sound of his agony, swaying softly to the uneasy rhythm of his breathing. Blood gushes from his leg onto the forest floor, the strokes of my knife painting the foliage the way she likes it best.
Harsh and unforgiving.
“You think I’m a bitch?” My teasing tone sharpens with each twist of my blade, “Oh, baby, I’m going to make you my bitch. You’re going to scream nice and loud until your vocal cords are as shredded as your leg. And then I’m going to remove your tongue for the disrespect.”
Breathing in the sweat running down his neck, I lick the salt right off his skin, “You brought those girls here so nobody would hear them. But now nobody is going to hear you.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
The question comes from the guy sitting on the ground, the one still holding his balls. The old man is nowhere to be seen, but I’m not too worried.
These kind of men don’t stay in the shadows for long.
“Calista Drache, at your service.” Throwing a wink over my shoulder, I turn my attention back to the man writhing against me, “I’ll carve it into your chest so you don’t forget. Are you ready to be a good boy for me?”
A whimper fills the air as the preppy one staggers to his feet and starts to limp away. I give him a head start because there is nowhere for him to go.
And I really do love the chase.