Page 46 of The Devil's Hunt

As I moved deeper into the woods, I spotted a soft light in the distance. Curiosity got the better of me, and I made my way toward the source. As I got closer to the light, the sound of rushing water grew louder and more urgent. With cautious steps, I emerged from the dense thicket of trees into a small clearing. Before me lay a wide river, its dark waters churning over moss-covered rocks and sending out an ominous rumble that echoed through the stillness of the night. Above, the moon cast an eerie glow through the canopy, illuminating the scene in an otherworldly light. But despite its ethereal beauty, there was something undeniably foreboding about this place.

I moved closer to the riverbank, and the forest seemed to grow quieter as if it, too, held its breath in anticipation. I surveyed the area,looking for a way to cross the river without swimming. Since the incident at the quarry, I was a little nervous about dark, cold water.

Then I caught sight of it—a log precariously balancing over the raging currents, beckoning to me from the other side with its promise of safety. But uncertainty and fear stood between me and that log, taunting me with every passing second.

Heart pounding, I sprinted toward the log as I heard voices and footsteps closing in behind me. Each step on the slick, wet wood threatened to send me tumbling into the frigid water below, but the fear of being caught spurred me on. The log groaned under my weight, splintering and cracking with every step.

But I had no choice. It was either that or certain death at the hands of my pursuers. Adrenaline surged through me as I pushed myself to keep moving, knowing that one wrong move could mean falling to my doom, swallowed up by the icy depths beneath me.

The cacophony of voices echoed through the woods, coming closer and closer. I turned to glance behind me, my foot catching on a hidden root and sending me tumbling down onto the slick wood surface. A sharp pain shot up my leg as a sliver of wood sliced through my dress and into my skin. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to stand up and continue hobbling toward the beckoning light ahead. Each step felt like a fiery brand against my injured leg, but I refused to stop. As I finally reached the rocky banks, I could feel warm blood trickling down my wounded limb. Ignoring the discomfort, I pressed on toward the clearing just beyond.

And there they were—three gleaming apples perched upon individual pedestals. One bronze, one silver, and one gold. My eyes were drawn to the girl standing in front of the golden apple, her face obscured by a fox mask covered in blood and dirt. The one who had murdered the girl in the chipmunk mask.

Twirling a knife covered in blood, she stared at me, urging me to move forward. As I hesitated, the sounds of my pursuers grew even more urgent. Their footsteps echoed through the woods, closing in on me. I gritted my teeth, taking a deep breath to steady myself, and slowly approached the table.

The girl in the fox mask held out her hand, the knife flashing in the moonlight. I could see the glint of madness in her eyes, taunting me to take an apple. As I reached for the gold apple, the girl lunged forward, her blade slicing through the air just inches from my throat.

I stumbled back, my instincts taking over as I removed my mask and held it defensively at my side. "What is wrong with you?" I yelled, chest heaving from exertion and terror. "There are three apples here. Take whichever one you want! Just let me have the gold," I pleaded, trying to reason with the crazed girl before me.

I didn't anticipate the sound of her laughter bubbling up from deep within. With a graceful movement, she removed the mask concealing her identity, allowing her vibrant red tendrils to spill out in all their damp and sweaty glory. With a knowing smirk, she let the mask fall to the ground, reveling in my recognition of her.

"Imagine my surprise," she growled, her voice dripping with venom, "when I discovered thatmyArcher chose you as his second Chosen. The little goodie-two-shoes virgin who slithered her way into his bed, taking him away from me. I could have killed you when I found out that he soiled his perfect cock with the likes of trash like you," she spat.

"Archer is a big boy. He can make his own choices," I responded, gritting my teeth as I fought the urge to explode on her, letting her know how deeply her words affected me.

"Perhaps." She clicked her tongue and scratched her scalp with the tip of the knife. "Or perhaps he needs a little help. A little push."

"And you think you're the one that is going to give him that little push? Could you sound any more desperate?" I scoffed, digging my fingers into the rabbit mask in my trembling hand.

I had to get her attention off the apple long enough to make a run for it. I knew the hunters were out there, watching what would happen. I could hear them moving, breathing, waiting to see who would survive. This was part of the sick game, and I wouldn't back down, even if she killed me.

"Any last words before I slit that perfect little throat of yours?" she sneered, gripping the hilt of her knife tight between her fingers.

"Actually, yes," I responded, clutching my mask tighter, preparing for what I hoped would happen once I finished speaking. I made a calculated assumption and prayed to God I was right. Otherwise, I would look like a fool before she stabbed me to death. "How does it feel to know that you were only good enough to drunkenly suck his dick in the middle of a dark cornfield, but he fucked me in his bed,at his manor?"

I balanced my weight on my good leg, preparing myself for her rage, and sprinkled in the last little bit just to really set her off, knowing full well he was with her before I gave myself to him. "Tell me, how does my pussy taste?"

I watched the rage settle into her eyes moments before she let out a scream that pierced my ears. I had struck a nerve, and now I had to fight for my life. She held the knife above her head as she charged me, closing the distance between us within seconds. At the last minute, I threw my mask up, blocking the knife thrust she brought down toward my face. Her knife got stuck in the mask, causing her to slam into me, and we both tumbled to the ground.

For a few moments, we were locked in a grappling match of strength and fury. I battled with every ounce of adrenaline I had, struggling to wrench the blade from the mask. She snarled with frustration as it took all of my might to pry the knife out of her hand, tossing it away from us. As she leapt off me to chase after the knife, I used the opportunity to roll away from her and scramble to my feet. With an explosive burst of energy, I sprinted toward the apples. I reached for the gold apple and clutched it tight between my fingers. It was heavy, almost like it was made of real gold.

As I turned to face her, a smirk of satisfaction tugging at the corners of my lips, the glint of cold steel in her hand caught my eye. Before I could react, the blade plunged into my thigh, sending a fiery pain pulsing through my body. My legs gave out beneath me, and I stumbled backward, dropping the apple from my grasp as I clutched at both wounds on my injured leg. The sharp edge had cut deep, causing blood to pool around my trembling fingers. Every breath wasa struggle as waves of agony tore through me, leaving me reeling and vulnerable in front of my opponent.

Fuck.

This was it. She was going to kill me in front of everyone. And I would never get the chance to be with Archer again. My heart ached at the thought.

With tears welling up in my eyes, I looked down at the crimson pooling around me, then back up at the girl standing over me. Her eyes glowed with triumph, and she smirked. She had finally bested me.

But as she stepped closer, I noticed a figure emerging from the shadows.

It was Maddie, disheveled and wet from head to toe. When she saw me, her eyes widened. "Mila? Emily?" Her gaze shifted between the two of us as she took in the scene before her.

It was enough distraction to pull Emily'sattention off of me for a split second. A second that gave me time to grab ahold of her wrist and twist it, plunging the knife deep into her stomach, turning her triumph into agony. I watched her fall to the ground, yanking the knife out of her stomach and pressing her hands against her bleeding wound. I carefully leaned down, picked up the gold apple, and hobbled toward her, my leg on fire. She lay there, laughing, as blood spittle covered her cheeks.

I fell to my knees, straddling her body, keeping her hands pinned beneath me.

"You think he'll ever love you? He's not capable of it. You're weak. A maggot. Waiting for the rotten scraps he throws in the trash." She coughed, more blood pouring out of her mouth. I could sit there and watch as the light left her eyes, waiting as she bled out. She would be dead soon enough. But no, I wanted more. I wanted to watch as she died, afraid, knowing I was the one that killed her.

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