Page 101 of Make You Mine

Unknown:

If I catch you, I fuck you, Madelyn.

Blood rushes through my veins as I read the message.

Unknown:

Run.

And that’s when I see him, the figure standing at the end of the hall, near the entrance, a mere ghost in the poorly illuminated walls. In an all-black outfit—hoodie and pants. The neon-red mask with Xs slashed across his eyes gives him away.

One of the masks we bought for the event. He’s one of us, someone who knows what we’ve been up to here.

But who is he?

I bite my lip. Heat pools between my legs, igniting. That familiar rush that makes me risk myself constantly.

I shouldn’t be turned on when I’m about to run for my life.

There’s something rotten inside me.

His figure turns clearer as he steps toward me.

I don’t let myself indulge in any more thoughts. I turn away from him and sprint.

I run like my life depends on it, through the blackness of the halls, with no idea where I’m headed. The only source of light comes from the open classroom doors, the high windows, and the moonlight.

My vision is limited. Yet, I push through, like a runner who’s trained for this marathon her whole life.

I bolt straight forward, trying to avoid bumping into anything. I can’t see him, but his footsteps sound somewhere in the distance, reassuring me of his presence.

My mind ponders with a gazillion thoughts. Who is behind the mask? Why is he doing this?

And last but not least—what happens when he catches me? Does he really fuck me?

Will I like it if he does? The idea doesn’t make me sick.

My thighs press together, the fabric of my panties brushing against my sensitive spot.

I bite back a moan and turn to my left. The perfect hiding spot.

The words Storage Room printed across a white plate call to me.

I should have done this from the beginning.

The slight creaking of the door opening makes my heart catch in my throat.

Don’t hear it. Don’t hear it.

I close it with caution.

And I’m surrounded in darkness yet again. I fumble around for a switch, placing my palm against the closest wall, before it sinks in I can’t do that. I need to navigate this pitch-black room as it is.

I use the flashlight on my phone instead pointing it at the floor to lower the brightness and hope the minimal lighting doesn’t give me away as I look around to ensure I’m safe.

The room is barely big enough for someone to stand. To my left, there’s a vacuum cleaner. To my right, brooms, mops, and cleaning products, along with a few buckets.

I stumble, and a cold softness pokes at my back. Spinning, I press a hand to my mouth to hold back my scream.