Page 50 of Things Get Dark

His hood drops back, revealing a mask. It’s not the guy who led me out into the woods like a lamb to slaughter and then abandoned me. This mask only covers the top half of his face. A gunmetal-grey skeleton shape bleeds down over his cheeks and has a fierce-looking top row of teeth. It makes me shiver, but not as much as the sinister grin he gives me.

Shit.

I gulp and the sound comes out so loud, making him grin even wider. I can’t breathe – it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the clearing. The chanting fades into the background.

Behind his mask, black orbs glow with menacing intent, and the intensity makes me take a step back. A twig snaps, the sound like a gun going off, and my heart leaps into my throat.

The skull mask man whistles shrilly, and then mouths “run” at me.

I don’t wait to be told twice.

I turn and sprint back the way I came, my heart pounding against my ribcage. The skull man’s laughter rings out behind me, echoing through the trees, and I know I’m running for my life.

Branches whip at my face and hands, and I stumble over roots and rocks in my haste to escape. The chanting grows louder and footsteps pound behind. It sounds like I’m being chased by more than one person, but I don’t dare turn around to check.

I push myself harder, knowing that I’m not fast enough to outrun them for long. My chest burns with the effort, and my muscles protest.

Just when I’m about to give up, a faint light shines in the distance between the trees. It’s small and flickering, like a weak beacon of warmth and possible safety. I force myself to run faster, ignoring the pain in my legs and the stitch in my side.

As I get closer, I see that it’s a campfire, and there are people gathered around it. Relief floods through me, and I stumble into the clearing, panting for breath.

“H-h-help m-me,” I huff out, bending over to rest my hands on my knees and gulping in air.

The group around the campfire turn to look at me, and when I lift my head, I stumble backwards. All five people in the clearing also wear half-masks. Different to the first masked man tonight, and not the same as the skull man either. These are animalmasks which cover the upper half of their faces and which look to be made out of real bone, fur, and feathers.

Their silence is more terrifying than their masks. The way they stand still as statues and observe me makes my stomach drop.

I need to get out of here.

Is nowhere safe?

One of the animal masked figures steps forward, and the glint of a weapon in their hand catches the firelight, but can’t make it out. Is it a blade? A gun? My heart races as I take another step back. I’m surrounded, being herded like cattle and toyed with like prey.

Turning on my heel, I flee.

As I run blindly through the woods, my mind races with fears and questions. Who are these people? Why are they wearing masks? And most importantly, how am I going to get out of this alive?

The footsteps pounding behind me fill me with dread, and I know that I can’t outrun them for much longer. My legs feel like lead, and my lungs burn with the exertion. I’m slowing down, and I know the end is near.

Just when I’m about to give up, I see a clearing up ahead. There’s a huge, dark shadow outlining a building of some sort, and a light flickers within. It’s faint, but it’s there, and I know it’s my only hope. Ignoring the pain and exhaustion, I race forward, knowing that my life depends on reaching that building. If it’s empty, I can at least bunk down for the night and wait these horrors out until the cold light of morning. If it’s not empty…well, hopefully whoever is in there will be a friend, not a foe.

As I get closer, a small cabin comes into view, nestled in a clearing in the woods. The light comes from a window, and I can see movement inside. Hope fills me, and I sprint towards the door, my heart pounding double time with fear, as well as the exertion of running for my life.

I burst through the door, panting and gasping for air, and I’m greeted by a ramshackle cabin that’s seen better days, but at least has a decent fire roaring in the grate.

“Hello?” I call out. There’s no answer and the place seems deserted, but someone must have lit the fire, and I swear I saw movement within. Could it have been shadows from the flickering flames? Maybe…

“Can you help me?” I call again. No answer.

I take a few tentative steps into the cabin, warily looking around. The sparsely furnished room has a few basic pieces of furniture and a small kitchen area. The fire crackles merrily in the fireplace, casting shadows on the walls.

Creaking behind me makes me spin around, heart racing. Standing in the doorway is a figure silhouetted against the moonlight streaming through the open door. Fear creeps up my spine, forcing me backwards.

The figure steps closer, towering over me, and when the light from the fire hits, I see that he is wearing combat boots, ripped jeans, and a mask. Nothing more. His chest is broad, his abs defined, and he has arms and shoulders that feature in more than a few of my fantasies, covered in sprawling black ink. He holds something in his hand, but I can’t work out what.

His mask resembles a wolf, coming right down to his upper lip, with sharp teeth glinting sinisterly in the firelight. I gulp, backing away until I’m pressed up against the wall, trying to deny the way my body is reacting to him.

I’m meant to be terrified, not turned on.

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