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He grabs my elbow and manhandles me along, out of the van and along a paved garden path I nearly trip on. Here it is. The house his proposal was talking about. He unlocks the front door and shoves me into a grimy hallway, then he practically pulls me up some stairs. We take a right turn, then another, and it smells like stale damp when he opens another door and shoves me inside. I get carpet burn on top of gravel scratches as I land on my knees.
“Ten seconds,” he says. “Then it really is chase time. Count slowly once I close the door.”
I nod for him, and he slams the door so hard I feel the tremors.
One… two…
The stink hits me. Damp and musty. Gross.
Three… four…
I start trying the bonds on my wrists, squirming.
Five…
I feel the cord that he’s deliberately left loose, but I don’t tug on it. Not yet.
Six… seven…
The adrenaline picks back up, knowing what’s coming. I feel my blood pumping.
Eight…
Ready.
Nine…
Set.
Ten...
Go.
Go, go, go, fucking go!
It’s instinctive flight – such a powerful force in the human body to escape and run free at all costs. I wrestle out of my wrist bindings, fingers quaking, and then I adjust my bag, thankful it’s still zipped up. There’s barely a hint of light coming through the windows, but at least it’s something. The curtains aren’t closed, so I haul myself up and dart over there. Under the moonlight outside I can see nothing but fields. I really am in the middle of nowhere.
I try the windows, but of course, they are locked. I try to adjust my eyes to the room around me, blinking frantically, and manage to make out a mattress on the floor, and a wardrobe in the corner. I file it away as a potential hiding spot. Wardrobe.
My heart is in my throat as I slide along the wall to reach the bedroom door. I pass a light switch on the way, but the bulb is out, no shock there. I think about using the torch app on my phone, but no, he’d see me coming a mile off. The door has a round metal handle, and it creaks as I twist it. Shit. I hold my breath, waiting, but nothing comes.
Oh my fucking God. Roleplay or not, this is fucking terrifying. I’m grateful that there’s another window on the landing that lights up my route down the hallway. It turns a sharp right at the bottom, and I catch sight of a bathroom. I don’t even want to look in there. I can smell it bad enough already.
There is no carpet along this part of the landing, and my heels are loud against the wood. I could do without that, so I kick them off and abandon them. I grip the banister rail and take the stairs down, one slow step at a time. I’m managing to a navigate a bit, or so I think until I look up and realise this place is way more than two floors. This building must house a fuck ton of bedrooms.
And somewhere around here lurks User 706.
I wonder if he’s got his eyes on me right now…
I get to the ground floor, and keep on going, grateful for the white light of the moon through the window. The carpet on this section of hallway has a huge floral print, it’s threadbare, and looks like something from a psycho horror. I hear something… a rattle… or was it something scuttling? Rats!? Or him, teasing me, making my heart pound all over again? When the front door appears up ahead of me, I run, slamming myself into it as I grapple with the door handle.
There’s no point, and I know it. Of course he’s locked it. My mind tells my body, but my body doesn’t listen, just keeps on trying, putting all of my weight into it. Shouldering the door time and again. I don’t realise the screams and yells are mine for the first few seconds, as they sound so detached and distant.
HELP! HELP! I’M TRAPPED! PLEASE, HELP ME! PLEASE! FUCKING HELP ME!
I hear a loud thump on the landing above me, shit, and I bolt back across the hallway and turn into an unknown room. A living room. I see sofas, and a coffee table, and no, NO. There’s no place to hide in here. I’m back out through the door, running faster as I hear the thumping of footsteps on the stairs, and I dart through the next doorway. A kitchen. Yes. It looks like a kitchen. I crash into a bin and send it flying with a BOOM, as the metal hits the floor. Damnit. I press my back against a fridge, and try to collect myself, eyes trying to focus. I know he’s coming by now, I know he’s after me. I know he’s coming to get me.
I see a door on the other side of the room, so I dash for it. A dining room. A big table. Yes, it’ll do. I throw myself under it, crouching with panting breaths as I pull the chairs in towards me, trying to hide.
