CHAPTER 10 - Madeline #2
I turn and bolt into the trees. The darkness swallows me instantly. I’m running blind, my feet slipping on the moss and hidden roots. Branches claw at my face and tear through my clothes, but I don’t stop. I can't stop.
“Seven… six…”
The counting continues, echoing through the trees behind me.
I dive deeper into the thicket, my lungs burning. Every shadow looks like his silhouette. Every sound of the wind sounds like his laughter.
I trip over a fallen log and fall face-first into the mud. I scramble to my feet, gasping for air, and look back toward the road. The SUV's lights go off. Complete, suffocating darkness follows.
“Ready or not, Madeline,” a whisper comes from behind. Close.
Despite my face being covered in mud, my clothes torn, and my bleeding knee, I force myself up and run again. My movements are slower now, my body reaching the absolute limit of exhaustion. Every breath feels like swallowing broken glass.
I hear his footsteps. But not behind me. Around me. The sound is disorienting, echoing through the trees so that I can't tell which way to run.
My head is snapping toward different directions every few seconds until I see it. A large, hollow log half-buried in the damp earth. I crawl inside, pressing myself into the darkness and shutting my eyes tight, wishing this was just a dream. A fucking nightmare.
The darkness inside the hollow log is absolute.
I’m trapped, pressed against the wet, rotting wood, the cold seeping into my mud-covered skin.
I put both hands over my mouth, desperately trying to suppress the sound of my ragged breathing.
My heart is pounding so loudly that I’m sure he can hear it, even through the thickness of the old tree.
”Madeline,” his voice comes again.
It’s closer now. But it’s not a whisper this time; it's a claim. A calm, conversational tone that sounds even more terrifying in the silence of the woods.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I barely exist. I hear the slow, deliberate crunch of footsteps in the dry leaves nearby. It stops. Then another one. This time, it’s closer. Much closer. He’s not running. He’s not rushing. He’s savoring the hunt.
“I can hear your pulse even here,” he continues, the sound of his voice seeming to come from different directions at once.
“I know you’re cold. And you’re scared. And you’re probably already calculating how many hours it would take for you to die from hypothermia in this weather.”
He pauses, and for a second, I think he might have moved past my hiding spot. I allow myself to take a shallow, silent breath. A mistake.
Suddenly, a massive, powerful hand clamps around my ankle, its grip like an iron shackle.
“No!”
I scream, the sound of my own voice surprising me.
Before I can even process it, he yanks me. I’m dragged violently out of the log, face-first into the cold mud. Branches claw at my face as I’m pulled backward, stumbling and kicking in an attempt to free myself. He doesn’t let go. He never does.
With a brutal surge of strength, he throws my ankle on the ground, leaving me sprawled on my back, gasping for air that tastes like earth and terror.
He stands over me, a massive, dark silhouette against the void of the night. He looks like a fallen god. I look up at him through the blur of tears and mud, my heart finally shattering under the weight of my terror.
“Get up,” he commands, his voice like cracking ice.
I stumble to my feet, my legs trembling so much I can barely stand. I look around me, desperately searching for another way out, another path to escape. There is none.
He steps forward, cutting off my only escape route, and corners me against the base of the towering oak.
“You didn’t listen when I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he states. The distance between us closes until I can smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke and something metallic on him.
He slams his hands against the bark of the tree on both sides of my head, trapping me completely. The vibration of the impact rattles my teeth.
“I didn’t tell her anything!”
I yell, the words slipping out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“I lied to her, just like you wanted! I told her I couldn’t go to the police because you’d kill someone else!”
I push against his chest with both hands, an act of sheer, panicked desperation. I’m trying to scream, to make him move, to do anything other than stand here, being trapped.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even react. In fact, I’m pretty sure my struggle only turns him on. He looks down at me with a cold, piercing gaze that strips me bare.
“You lied to protect your friend,” he says, a slow, predatory smirk playing on his lips.
“But here’s the thing. Lucy is a very curious creature, and she won’t stop until she finds the truth.”
He leans in closer, pinning me completely against the tree.
“I need you to stop this. Stop following me. Stop trying to scare me. Leave my life completely,” I say, my breath shaking.
He doesn’t look convinced. Instead, he seems to relish the challenge, his presence expanding until the forest feels too small to hold us both.
”Every breath you take, Madeline, every shadow you see, every question you don’t have an answer to… I am that. I am inevitable.”
The air between us is thick, charged with a terrifying energy. I can feel his heartbeat through his tailored shirt, a steady, calm rhythm that stands in stark contrast to the chaos inside me.
“You think you’re getting closer to me, studying me like one of your corpses,” he whispers, his finger brushing against the side of my neck, right over my pulse. I flinch at his touch.
“But you’re missing the most important detail.”
”Which is what?”
I ask quietly, my voice a mere thread of sound in the night.
He leans back, allowing a sliver of light to hit his face. A smile curves his mouth. A real smile. A real, beautiful, terrifying smile that doesn't reach his empty eyes.
“That I’m not the one being observed, Mali. I’m the end. Your conclusion. And tonight, I will decide what to do next.”
The full moon shines over us, though the dim light makes everything poorly visible. But I can see his features more clearly now than back in the storage room.
His dark, almost demonic eyes catch a glimpse of the moonlight, boring into mine as if they are the only ones he ever wants to look at.
He has a sharp jawline, covered in tattoos that stretch up to the sides.
Pieces of art cover his temples, sliding down his neck.
His black hair is a bit messy from the hunt, the white strand is still visible.
He’s incredibly handsome. I’ve never seen anyone like him, certainly not a killer.
Such a mesmerising cover for something so ruined.
He notices the way my eyes are tracing over his features for the first time. He doesn’t move; he’s enjoying my attention. The look in my eyes.
The tension between us shifts now. It's still incredibly frightening, but something has changed. His breathing is deeper. Our faces get closer with each passing second. It almost feels as if the air has stopped, along with the trees that were swaying slightly in the wind.
His lips are now so close they briefly brush against mine, a ghost of a kiss that promises both salvation and ruin. He leans into my body even closer, and as he does, he accidentally pushes against my bleeding knee. I hiss in pain, the sharp sting cutting through the adrenaline.
His attention is immediately alerted. The predator is gone, replaced by something clinical, something focused. His gaze snaps to the lower half of my body, scanning the damage with unnerving intensity.
“Does it hurt?”
He asks, his voice suddenly gentle.
I’m taken aback by his sudden shift toward care. Its more disorienting than his threats. I don’t answer; I just nod my head slowly, my throat too tight for words.
He drops to his knees in front of me, oblivious to the mud soaking into his expensive pants, looking up at me.
“Do you want me to ease the pain for you?”
He asks quietly.
I’m not sure what “easing the pain” means exactly for The Arbiter. He's not offering first aid. He's offering himself as the only cure for the wound he helped to create. I’m still stunned by the whole situation. The war happening inside of me will probably rip me apart soon.
“How?”
The word is barely a breath, vanishing into the damp air.
The sight of him kneeling in front of me, does something to my body I don’t really want to put a label on. He smiles briefly, seeing the unconscious reaction my body makes to his voice.
“Trust me,” he murmurs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my pants as he pushes them down slowly.
I watch him in absolute disbelief, but I don’t stop him for some unknown reason.
Instead, I grab the tree behind me, watching his next move.
I'm anchored to the earth only by the oak at my back and the man at my feet.
He lifts one of my legs slightly, then the other, pulling my pants off completely and tossing them into the mud without a second thought.
The cold forest air hitting my bare skin makes me shiver violently, but it’s not just the temperature.
He looks absolutely feral right now, his gaze pierced on the thin fabric covering my most sensitive spot.
After a brief moment of taking in my appearance, mapping me out like a piece of art he finally owns, he bows his head to my bruised knee.
Then, he places soft, lingering kisses over the raw skin of my wound.
My hand slams over my mouth, trying to suppress the moan that is threatening to escape despite the absolute terror of the situation.
The contrast of his rough, tattooed hands on my skin and the tenderness of his lips is paralyzing.
“The only hand suppressing your voice and your breathing should be mine. Let me hear you, Madeline,” he orders firmly.
His voice is a low vibration that I feel deep in my bones.