Page 33 of Whiteout

This is the part in the horror movie where you start screaming at the screen. Telling them to get out and run while they still can. How could I be so stupid? Here I am ignoring every instinct I have to turn and run. Because I can't.

Why can't I just let him go?

I’m terrified of him, yet I can’t fight this hold Kris has over me. I follow his tracks for a few minutes before coming across his truck, parked at the end of a driveway leading to a worn-down farmhouse. I drive past, parking my car further down the road, out of sight.

I backtrack through the snow to the farmhouse. The fallen snow muffles my footsteps as I move around the house. Peering through the window, the dirty glass reflects my face back at me. Seeing nothing inside, I make my way around the side of the house. My blood runs cold when a man’s scream pierces through the air.

As I round the back corner of the house, my breath catches in my throat. The Huntsman stands in the middle of a small yard, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air. He's not alone.

There's a man, completely naked, tied to a clothesline post. His screams fill the air around us. I recognize him as the man Kris threatened at the carnival earlier.

"Please! I didn't mean any disrespect! I swear I didn't know!" He pleads. He looks terrified, his eyes wide and his body trembling.

I press myself against the house trying to make myself as small as possible. Hidden from the scene unfoldingbefore me. My hand flies to my mouth, stifling the shocked sounds threatening to escape.

Kris's face is hidden behind his mask, but his eyes are cold. He raises a hand, and in it, I see a leather whip. My stomach flips, and I feel a tug of conflicting emotions. I'm horrified by what I'm witnessing, and yet... there's a part of me that's drawn to it. To him. I can't move. I'm rooted to the spot, unable to tear my eyes away from Kris.

The whip cracks through the airlike a gunshot, landing on the man's back. Kris moves with practiced precision. Crimson welts rise on the man's fair skin with each snap of the whip. Blood starts to drip down his body, staining the white snow beneath him.

"Admit to your sins." Kris's voice coming from behind the Huntsman mask causes my core to clench. I imagine him towering over me, his dark eyes flashing with the same intensity.

My throat goes dry as the man starts to cry, his body shaking with sobs.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know she was yours. I swear, I didn't know! Please, don't kill me! I'll do anything!"

Kris, dipping his head down to meet the man's eyes. He slowly shakes his head, the leather Huntsman mask moving slightly with the motion.

"You knew, everyone knows. Youdisrespected her anyway. For that mistake, you will pay with your life."

I know I should run. Or at least, hide. My feet feel like lead, rooted to the spot as if they've taken on the weight of the situation. I watch, as Kris begins to whip the man mercilessly.

The man's pleas for mercy turn to screams of pain. My vision blurs as the snow swirls around me, adding to the surreal nature of the scene. Kris's arms move with a graceful, rhythmic motion, each stroke of the whip landing with cruel precision. The man's back is a mess of bloody welts and torn flesh.

This can't be real. I'm watching a horror movie, and any moment, I'll snap out of it. I'll wake up in my bed, safe and sound. But the icy wind on my cheeks and the sore, frozen toes tell me this is no dream.

I flinch at each crack of the whip connecting with the man's bloody body.

Kris takes a step back, raising his arm. The whip slices through the air, wrapping around the man's throat. Holding the man’s head still with one hand, he reaches down with the other withdrawing a knife from within his boot. Kris brings the knife up to the man’s forehead and begins carving. The man's screams reach a fever pitch. I can see his legs shaking beneath him, barely supporting his weight.When Kris steps back, I see it—an “H” carved into the man’s forehead.

Kris tugs on the whip, pulling the man's head back to expose his neck. The blade flashes in the moonlight. With a smooth motion, he draws the knife across the man's throat, slicing through flesh. Blood sprays, coating the snow in a crimson haze. The man's body goes limp, crumpling to the ground.

Silence.

Kris stands still for a moment, admiring his work, his chest heaving. His head turns slowly in my direction. His dark eyes find mine, where I'm standing hidden in the shadows.

"Did you enjoy the show, Ivy?"

Chapter 15

Huntsman

I smile behind my mask as Ivy takes off terrified, running into the woods. She should be afraid, her decision to run only postpones the inevitable.

I take off after Ivy, my rage mounting with every step. Her footprints are easy to track in the fresh snow, leading me deeper into the woods. The icy air sears my lungs, but I welcome the pain, a reminder of the betrayal I have suffered. She chose him over me, again. Her choice has sealed her fate. Now, she will learn the true price you pay for disloyalty.

I spot a flash of red through the trees. Her deep red hair stands out like a beacon against the snow-covered landscape. My footsteps crunch loudly in the frozen snow, alerting her to my presence. I hear her panicked cries as she glances back at me, her eyes reflecting the terror she is feeling inside. Her chest heaving, her breath formingcloudy puffs in the freezing air. She's running for her life, but all I can focus on is the beauty of her face flushed with fear.

"There is nowhere to run, Ivy."

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