Page 21 of Anorthic Anarchy

Involuntarily, the heat from our first kiss warms my thighs as I gaze up at his foreboding figure, those painted eyes peering down at me with some carnal knowledge I’m not aware of. My pulse was already racing rapidly, but it accelerates at the sight of his face.

The room is so large, I’m not sure where to go next, but as I trail my gaze along the outskirts, my belly twists into a knot. Terror strikes me until I freeze like a doe about to be prey.

My husband leans against a far wall with his arms and legs crossed as if he’s been waiting for me. His chiseled jaw flexes, eyes narrowing like a predator when I appear. He’s shirtless and his alabaster skin glows in the embers of the dying fire, making all the black inked patterns seem like rivers of blood winding across every corded muscle. His solid figure doesn’t move an inch, except for his finger, which points to his right, where a giant grandfather clock sounds its first chime.

Ding!

It’s so loud, it deafens the blood pounding in my ears. The sound of the reverberation hasn’t even ended before I turn to a set of double doors closest to me and dart through them.

Ding!

I can’t even swallow with how arid my throat becomes, but I keep moving, swiveling my head in search of an exit. My eyes betray me when everything blurs. It’s a large hallway with several double doors, and I choose the ones directly across from me.

Ding!

Tripping into a dining room, I scan the area, but there’s nowhere to hide. At the back, a swinging door leads to the next room. As a shadow crawls over the rug, I run.

Ding!

My toes catch on a raised hardwood board, and I hit the floor, but my hands catch me before my face smashes into it. With a glance over my shoulder, I scream as the master walks at a sure pace straight for me. Scrambling to a stand, I take off at a sprint through the door and into the kitchen.

Ding!

There’s a door that leads to the outside just through a small mudroom. Rushing over to it, I grip the handle and twist, but it won’t budge. Locked with a key that I can’t find. I’m at a dead end!

Ding!

His boots hit the tiles as he makes his way to me. My eyes scan the area for any way to escape. I blink rapidly to clear my vision of the tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks.

Ding!

I grab the closest thing to me on the wall: a frying pan. As he approaches, I rear back with all my might and take a big swing at his head. His blond hair doesn’t move as he dodges the hit with his arms raised to block it, but I dip under him and scamper out through the way I came in.

Ding!

Back in the main hallway, I peer toward the end and spot a solid set of double doors… It could be the entryway. Dashing as fast as I can, I focus on the handles and try to ignore the whimpering sobs escaping my chest. I’ve never been this terrified in my life.

Images of rushing through white halls in my childhood home mix with those of the black hall here. The world in front of me blurs between the two screens until it’s difficult to tell where I am.

Blood. Bodies writhing in pain. Screams of anguish.

Ding!

A flood of relief hits me as I reach the front door and grab one of the handles and tug… But it’s locked as well. Turning to face my captor, he walks slowly toward me as if he knows there’s nowhere for me to go. Every step he takes makes me see double, my sights clouded with dread. My back presses to the wood, but in my peripheral, I spot a staircase leading to the second story. Go!

Ding!

The moment I decide to dart, he takes off at a full sprint like a bull rushing to gore his runner. I make it to the first set of stairs. As I do, he snags my ankle in his grip and I trip, my chin hitting the edge of a step. The pain shoots through my skull until I’m dazed.

Ding!

My fingers latch onto the stair carpet as I attempt to crawl out from his grasp, but he pulls my hair and surrounds my body with his. Squirming, I scream as loudly as I can, but his hand clamps over my mouth as his waist presses my hips into the angled steps.

A clanking of metal cuts over my crying wails as he undoes his belt and wraps it around my neck, then shoves my dress up.

“No!” I yell in a choked sob, but he tightens the leather around my windpipe, cutting off the rest of the word. The stubble along his jaw tickles my ear as he leans his cheek into me.

Ding!

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