21
There’s a sound of a toilet flushing.
King is up.
I can hear him moving around, his footsteps heavy.
Scrambling out of the bedroom, my heart already flapping, I look around. This house is so vast it’s hard to even pinpoint where the sound is coming from.
Starting to check the other rooms, there are four of them just on this floor, I move as quickly as I can.
I duck into one room where a window is standing wide open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. This bed is messy, too. There are clothes thrown everywhere, but King isn't here. I could have sworn I saw him come this way—
"AAAH!"
A scream rips from my throat as something slams into me from behind.
Huge, powerful hands wrap around my neck, squeezing the life out of me. I claw desperately at the arms, but I’m thrown to the floor like a rag doll.
My eyes bulge as King lands on top of me, his hands locked around my throat.
"I told you... to go away. Stop following me!" he snarls.
His eyes are wide, bloodshot, and terrifying. His face is flushed a deep, angry red, and that beautiful white hair is falling over his forehead, masking a monster.
"King... it's... me," I wheeze, the words barely croaking past his grip.
"I know who you are, demon! You keep..." He lets go with one hand just to slam the heel of his palm against his own head. "Following me!" He hits himself again, hard as his voice cracks.
"Just fucking leave me alone!!!!" he whimpers, his face suddenly twisting into something helpless and scared, right before he brings both hands back to my throat to choke the shit out of me.
I kick my legs out, my lungs burning, and slap him as hard as I can across the face.
"I killed you. I killed you," he says over and over through his teeth in a haunting chant.
Whatever drug he’s on, he’s tripping hard.
"King, it's me!" I yell, managing to find a pocket of air, when he loosens up to hit his forehead now with both hands as if trying to put a dent in his skull while I gasp for air.
"Come here! You want to fucking follow me? Come here, you fucking bitch!!!!" He roars, charging at me as I scramble to my feet. I scream bloody murder and bolt out of the room.
Thankfully, the top floor has a roundabout railing. I sprint along the square, my legs moving faster than they ever have in my life. The heavy thud-thud-thud of King’s large body chasing me sounds like the thunder claps of the very tornado I’m terrified of, wrapped up into a man who wants me dead.
He’s coming for me so hard that when I hit the bottom of the stairs, he tumbles right behind me, sliding across the marble and smashing into a glass table. It shatters with a deafening crack. I look over my shoulder, hoping he’s down, but he’s already pushing himself up.
Blood is pouring down his arm from the glass, but his eyes are wide and crazy. He grimaces, baring his teeth like an animal, and lunges again.
Holy shit, what the fuck is happening?!
"KING!!!! Oh my God, I'm sorry!!! King, it's me!!!!!" I scream as I tear through the house. He charges into a wall, his body skidding and slipping on the polished marble. I hear the squeaky, sickening sound of his skin hitting the floor before he’s back up, panting.
We end up in the dining room, the colossal table between us. We do a frantic, terrifying dance.
I try to move one way, he meets me. Then he jumps over the table to get to me, and I’m screaming, diving underneath the wood to scramble to the other side.
I get out and dive into a nearby room, slamming the door shut, but King is too big, too strong.
He collides with the door like a battering ram, the wood splintering as the force sends me flying backward onto the ground.
I am paralyzed with terror.
This was a bad idea. I knew he was messed up, but I had no idea he was this far gone.
"King!! It's Erica!! King, you're having a bad trip!!!" I scream. The man I thought was so kind and sweet now looks like Satan incarnate. Tyler’s words about women disappearing around him ring in my ears like a death knell.
What if the accident with the pregnant woman wasn't an accident?
What if he meant to do it?
Oh my God, I'm alone here with him!
"Come here, you fucking bitch!!!! Come here!!!!!" he yells, charging again. I run into the bathroom, then dive back out as he slides in, his nails catching my skin and scratching me as I narrowly escape his reach.
"Oh my God, pleeease!!!!" I’m heading straight for a window, ready to jump and take my chances with the glass, but right before I reach it, he snatches the fabric of my blouse.
My feet keep moving forward but my body is jerked back; I’m airborne for a second before I slam onto my back on the marble.
I’m coughing, trying to find air, but King is already over me. He grabs my dreads, dragging me by my hair, my head smacking against the baseboard.
"I'm not going back there!!! I'm not going back to Hell!!!!" he screams. He grabs my legs and hauls me forward across the floor.
I kick out now, not caring if I break his ribs or his face. It’s my life or his. "King, pleeeeeeease!" My voice is a wreck, a desperate, agonizing cry I didn't even know I could make.
I slap at his face, and King responds by punching me squarely in the stomach. The blow is so sudden that the air vanishes from my body. It feels just like the tornado, the same suffocating pressure. In this moment, King is the storm. He was my safety, and now he is the very thing I’m terrified of.
I claw at him, and he punches me twice more in the side. A searing, white-hot pain erupts in my ribs.
"DADDY!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!" I scream for my father, my voice finally giving out into a rasp. King grabs my hair again and slams my face into the floor.
I pull him close, wrapping my legs around his waist, hoping that if I stay tight, he won't be able to get enough leverage to hit me again. He gets up, leaning backward, scratching at my back. Then his mouth is on my neck. I start to relax for a split second, thinking maybe he’s coming out of it, until I feel his teeth sink into my skin right near the shoulder.
I scream again, a raw sound of pure agony as his teeth dig in. I use my forehead to headbutt him with everything I have left. It hurts like hell, and I didn't expect him to do it right back. I see stars, my vision swimming as I fall away, and then he’s on top of me again.
His hands are back around my throat, pulling me up off the ground just to slam me back down. I can't even call for help anymore, as much as I want to.
Then, suddenly, it stops.
My eyes open, my ears ringing and my whole body feeling like it’s on fire.
King is heaving, his head tilted back, mouth open and slack, his arms slumped at his sides. He’s still straddling my stomach, but the violence has drained out of him.
He’s staring at a point in empty space, reaching out his hand to touch something invisible that I can't see.
Then he looks down at me. He tilts his head to the side like a curious dog, as if he’s seeing me for the first time. But there’s no recognition. He’s looking through me, his gaze hollow and lost, not really seeing me either.
"What do you want?" he asks in a vacant tone, as if the last ten minutes of violence and terror hadn't even happened.
I’m shivering so hard I can barely keep my teeth from chattering.
"Do you want me to... you want to die?" he asks quietly, his eyes drifting. "Me too... we can die together." He stands up with a sudden, jerky movement and grabs my leg, starting to drag me across the floor like I’m a sack of laundry.
"Oh my God!!! Nooooo! KING! STOP!!! Remember Jesus!!!" I scream, my voice breaking.
He stops for a second, looking back at me as I scramble against the marble, and gives me a crazy, vacant smile. He looks half-asleep, or like his mind is miles away from this room.
"Jesus isn't here, baby girl," he says with a little, haunting chuckle. He turns and hauls me through the door into the garage.
It’s a big area, built for three cars, with industrial-looking machines lined up against the wall.
I manage to twist free, tumbling over myself to get back toward the house, but he’s back on me in a second. I scream, gripping the threshold of the door with everything I’ve got, until King punches the side of my head. My vision swims, and I slump against the floor in defeat.
"NOOOOOO!" I cry out, but it's a whimper of pure exhaustion.
There are no neighbors close enough to hear, and this house is built like a fortress.
This can't be King.
This can't be the man who prayed for me.
"SHHHH," he says, looking manic as he crouches down beside me. "They're looking for us. They can't find us here. We're invisible to them. But I'll make sure we get out of here, o—okay? I realize that's the only way out. I've been there before. It’s—it’s not so bad."
He looks almost hopeful as he lifts me up.
He reaches out and flips a switch on a machine.
I don’t know if it’s a saw or a wood chipper, all I know is that it’s loud, a terrifying metallic shrieking roar that fills the whole garage. He starts pulling me toward it.
"NOOOOOO!!! KING!!!! STOP!!! KING! PLEASE!!!!! OH GODDDDD!"
I fight with every ounce of strength I have left, but he lifts me straight off the ground. There’s a strange tunnel apparatus leading toward the spinning blade, designed for logs or something, and he tries to shove me in. I’m screaming, thrusting my legs out to either side of the opening.
If that tunnel wasn't there protecting the blade, I’d be split right down the middle.
"I'm going to go right after you," King says, his voice eerily calm.
"King, I'm going to die!!!"
"I know. Isn't it great?" he asks, sounding like he’s offering me a taste of a dessert he really likes.
I break down, sobbing. "God, please!!!! Help me!!!!!! Oh my God, please, God!!!!" I cry out into the roar of the machine. "King! King!!!! I love you! Please don't do this!"
He isn't hearing me.
My legs are getting weak, and he punches me in the back to make me stop struggling.
"Wait… your legs need to... wait, I'm so stupid," King laughs, pulling me away from the machine for a split second of relief. "You got to go in head first."
I scream so loud I think my throat is going to tear.
He has my arms pinned against my sides from behind, but I’m kicking like a maniac, trying to knock over the heavy work table.
It doesn't budge.
I manage to kick off the table, sending us both stumbling backward, but he just keeps pushing. He lets go of my arms to use both hands to force my skull down toward the spinning metal.
"Come on, it's okay. I got you," King says softly. "I got you."
Those same words.
The words he used when he held me safe during the storm. Now they’re empty, dripping with whatever evil has taken up residence in his head.
I throw my arms out, using my hands to grip the edges of the metal tunnel, the friction cutting into my palms as I push back, trying to keep my head from reaching that blade.
"Pleeeeeeease!!!!" I scream one last time, knowing I need to save every bit of energy just to keep from being pushed in.
Suddenly, King lets go of my head. But before I can move, he slams his forearm into the back of my neck, pinning me down against the platform.
I’m looking straight ahead, the blade spinning only four inches from my eyes. I feel him behind me, yanking down my leggings, and then I feel his dick slide inside me.
"We can make this nice. It doesn't have to... it doesn't have to be scary," he says, thrusting into me while he holds me pinned near the saw.
I’m crying, my face pressed against the cold metal.
I love this man. I do, but I am terrified. He’s trying to distract me so he can kill me. Or maybe this is who he always was.
Maybe if I…
Play along…
"That's right, baby. My… my King," I gasp in fear through my tears, trying a desperate gamble. I back my ass up into him, leaning into the contact. "Fuck me. Co—come for Gia."
He moans, the sound louder than before. "What did you say?"
"I said come... for Gia. You wouldn't hurt Gia, would you?" my words quiver on their way out, laced with the terror I feel.
"Of course not," he says, his pace increasing, though he’s still pushing my head down toward the blade.
I grind back against him, doing everything I can to make him lose control; squeezing my legs together, moving my ass in a circle, hoping a tighter grip will finish him faster.
It starts to work.
He hardens even more inside me, his humps becoming shorter, more frantic.
"UGH," he grunts.
From my peripheral vision, I see his eyes flutter.
His hands loosen their grip, his forearm loses pressure off the back of my neck as he begins to come. And then the crazy shit happens. My own body starts quaking.
I come, too.
I can't help it.
He's deep, hitting that exact spot, and the sheer terror and adrenaline have turned into some kind of sick rush.
My walls clench around him and my whole body goes warm; for a tiny, fleeting second, I almost want to let go and just die right there.
As King’s muscles loosen, his breath coming in shallow gasps, I don't wait. I slip away from him before he can get his bearings, tripping over my leggings as I haul them up.
He’s standing there with his pants at his ankles, staring blankly at the saw before his eyes slowly find me. He looks like he almost recognizes me.
I don't stay to find out.
Instead, I bolt for the garage door, run to his truck, and dive into the bed, hiding under the shadows.
My pussy is wet and saturated with him while I lie there in a fetal position, shaking so hard I can barely breathe.
I’m terrified he’s going to come out and finish it. I hear the crunch of footsteps on gravel.
The sun is bright now. The birds are chirping, totally oblivious to the fact that I’m hiding for my life.
"There's only so many places you could be," I hear his voice. He sounds bored.
I hold my breath until my lungs ache.
???