Chapter Eight
Gwendolyn
Kasper covered the ground toward me at an inhumane rate and it just confirmed my suspicions of what he was, a ghost. I felt it in my bones as his shadowy figure loomed closer, a predator closing in on its prey.
I could feel the cold grip of the maze as it tightened around me, as it corralled me to where it wanted me to go, whispering secrets that danced just beyond my reach and understanding, and yet, I ran, unwilling to give in.
The air thickened around me, each breath heavier than the last as I continued moving, my thundering heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my rib cage.
The night continued to envelop me, creating a layer of invisibility that tried to lure me in with its secrets, urging me to yield to my fear.
I could hear him behind me, his presence a ghostly wisp that danced just out of sight, tantalizingly close yet always out of reach.
“Gwendolyn,” Kasper's voice slithered through the air like smoke, curling around my mind, “you can’t escape.”
I pushed myself harder, my legs screaming in protest, but the instinct to flee was primal, raw, an unfiltered response to the hunt I found myself in.
Every corner I turned, every path I took, the maze seemed to conspire with him, funneling me deeper into its heart.
I could feel the walls of stalks closing in, the hedges continued their whispering, their tendrils reaching toward me like grasping hands, close, too close.
But then, I rounded a corner and stumbled into a clearing, a perfect circle nestled within the maze, the moon overhead casting an ethereal glow upon the ground.
It felt like a trap, a stage set for a performance I was the unrehearsed understudy for.
I skidded to a halt as I took it all in, refraining from a slow clap at all the theatrics of the evening.
I turned to face the presence that had been hunting me, a breath caught in my throat as I prepared for him to emerge.
A stillness that would be most unnerving to some, the silence now stretching out like a taut string ready to snap.
Then, he appeared, gliding into the clearing as if the shadows themselves had birthed him.
Kasper’s eyes finally locked onto mine, and I was enamored with him.
This evening, it was much more than I could have asked for, but I was tired now, my legs burning with exertion, and I was becoming bored.
With my thoughts of boredom, the stalks around us seemed to pulse, breathing in sync with my own breaths, they appeared to reach for me, to caress me, as if they’d been waiting for me.
“I always wondered what it was like, being the victim,” I said, my voice softening, the mask I kept steadily in place slipping, revealing the truth behind my…fear.
For a fleeting moment, Kasper faltered, his expression shifting from predatory delight to something akin to confusion and it was cute.
It made me want to clap my hands together in glee.
The maze responded, whether it was to him or to me, I was unsure.
The stalks swaying as if stirred by a sudden breeze, they began embracing me rather than consuming me.
I felt the weight of its acknowledgement, its acceptance.
“Gwendolyn, have you been hiding something from me? Something…important?”
“Perhaps.”