Page 17 of Brutal King

My heartbeat pounding in my ears, I’m deaf to almost everything as I orient myself. I run to the left, following a path around the house in search of a way out. However, just as I noted from the room I woke up in, there are woods surrounding the property. I see no cars, no roads, no break in the trees.

Ahead, there’s a helicopter sitting on a landing pad, confirming what I suspected. There’s no way out but this.

“Fuck!” I scream, but don’t allow myself to slow down. Instead, I push harder to flee. If the only way to leave is through the forest, that’s the way I’ll go.

I race full speed over the expansive lawn, and punch into the line of trees with so much force a flock of birds takes flight overhead.

Harder, faster, my feet soar over dead leaves and knotted roots. Everything rushes past me, the trees becoming a blur as I aim to put as much distance between Gideon and me.

Ahead, I finally spot a clearing. I ignore the pain in my side and give it everything I have to burst free of the forest.

“Help!” I call out to anyone. “Help me! Hel?—”

The large manor I just escaped from looms ahead. Like something out of a fucking horror movie, all I’ve done is circle back.

“No. No!” I turn around and enter the woods again. This time, I go slower. I make sure I’m heading in a straight line, no circling back. “Help!”

I run as far as I can without doubling over, gasping for breath. Why didn’t I join track when Jenn asked me to? Oh right, because I’m a fucking photographer not a runner!

I glance up to the sky through the canopy of the trees. I’m completely surrounded with no apparent way out. When I look back, I realize I don’t remember which way I came from.

Everything begins to spin. I’m lost. I’m utterly lost in the woods and I don’t have a clue how to survive this.

“Give in, Little Bird.” I whirl to Gideon. He’s approaching carefully, stalking me like a lion would an injured gazelle. “It will be dark soon and it’s not safe out here.”

“And it is in there?” I demand, pointing a finger in the direction of the house.

“The house” —he points in the opposite direction— “doesn’t have predators roaming in it.”

“You’re a predator,” I retort.

“Believe me, Little Bird,” he says with a chuckle. “You’d enjoy it far more if I were the one to eat you.”

I hug my arms around myself, so unsure now of what to do. “Just let me go.”

“No.” There’s no room for negotiation this time. No chance for a game. I’m tired and he knows it. “Come. Maybe you can try again tomorrow.”

With my head bowed low, I follow him in.

4

GIDEON

“There are those born to receive,” my father said to me the day he brought me to Kingsbrook Manor for the first time on my tenth birthday. “And there are those born to take.”

“Which are we, Father?” I asked him.

“I want you to have it all, Gideon.” He knelt down so that we were eye to eye. “Therefore, I must teach you to take what you want.”

Sofia’s soft footsteps follow behind me all the way into the house. I pause at the door to let her in. She stops too, glancing behind her toward the woods with longing in her eyes.

“Come inside, Sofia, or the cats will get in.”

This gets her attention. “Cats?” she asks, her brow furrowed.

“Feral cats that live on the property. They’re always searching for a way into the house.”

She blinks. “And here I am trying to find a wayout.”

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