Page 11 of Grave Possession

What else can I do? There has to be more evidence, a clue I’m missing. I gulp down the scalding hot coffee, welcoming the burn working its way down my esophagus.Why the fuck can’t I figure this out? Who in this town gives me the heebie-jeebies? No one. Who was stalking my little siren, besides me? I have no fucking clue, and it’s making me unpredictable and dangerous.

Hopelessness and frustration explode out of me as the coffee mug I was holding flies across the room and smashes into the wall. The drywall cracks and particles fall to the floor, lying along the remnants of the shattered vessel. There’s a dent in the wall and I hate myself for it. This is my woman’s house, her sanctuary. She loves it more than she loves herself, I’m sure, and I’m fucking wrecking it. Get a fucking grip on yourself, Nox, this is embarrassing. Your incompetence and inability to control yourself are going to get her killed. Sighing, I go to get the broom so I can sweep up the mess.

Evening is closing in as I leave the house, crossing the distance to my truck to grab my work laptop. I stare up at the sky momentarily, wondering if Mallory can see it too from wherever she is. We star-gazed once, it’s one of my fondest memories. I revealed to her that I was a secret nerd when I was younger. She didn’t believe me, but once I started nattering on about the stars, planets, and constellations, she quickly changed her mind. Astrology as a whole fascinates me, even the zodiac signs and their traits. I always find it so interesting when preconceived notions of your personality match up with who you are based on when you’re born. Like somehow that matters and makes you who you are.

Mallory’s zodiac sign is a scorpio, and because I’m a very thorough stalker, I now know just about everything there is to know about those cunning little demons. Theman that took her is just as fucked to be stuck with her as she is to be stuck with him. The thought brings a bit of warmth to my chest. She’s going to make him regret taking her.Good.

Taking a deep breath, I recentre myself. The stars twinkle above me like some divine sign from the universe that Mallory and I will reunite to star-gaze once again, and I feel like I can breathe a little easier because of it.

Chapter Eight

Mallory

Staring up at the stars, I wish they would fuck off behind a cloud or something. I need the cover of darkness to evade this psycho. I’ve been running for so long my legs have turned to jelly and I’m becoming light-headed. My body isn’t ready for this; I’ve barely eaten since I was taken and I feel weak as hell because of it.

“Where you at, darlin’?” My captors voice rings out through the night, echoing around me so I can’t tell what direction he’s coming from. Panic swells and crests, crashing down over me, forcing me to the ground in a crumpled heap.Focus, Mallory.Taking a second to catch my breath, I listen. Trying to discern where he is and which way he’s coming from. I can do this. I did it with Ghost, and I can do it again. My eyes fall shut as I take in everything around me. There are frogs in the distance, their mating calls like screams pierce the otherwise peaceful night. Crickets sing and the flapping of leathery bat wings break the atmosphere sporadically. Then Ihear it—the distinct crunching of feet through the underbrush.Found you, fucker.I launch myself in the opposite direction as something whistles past my head, cutting through the branches to my left. I don’t stop to see what it is but I know it’s something I need to run from.

That cloud I was wishing for earlier picks the worst time to hear my plea as it crosses the path of the moon. Blocking out almost all the light and smothering the forest in shadow. Fuck, I can’t stop running, I won’t.

Something snaps through the saplings to my right, and I make a hard left turn. I have no idea where I am and I can’t see shit. I stumble, slowing my steps for a fraction of a second so I don’t go tumbling into the earth beneath me. But that minuscule moment in time is enough for the man to catch up. He crashes into my back, forcing me into the dirt. The breath is evicted from my lungs when he lands on top of me, and a repulsive sound of appreciation escapes him.

“I told you,” he pants. “If I caught you again, I wouldn’t be so nice about it.” What the fuck? What is he talking about? I try to scour the murky pits of my memories, but it’s hard. I’m so tired and everything hurts. “Oh, sugar tits, don’t tell me you don’t remember our first meetin’?”Huh?

I guess there was a point of initial contact for us, but I never once wondered what it was. I suppose that’s an important piece of information, especially if I get out of this whole situation alive.

“Come on, darlin’, I want to see the shock on your pretty face when you realize just how long I’ve beenchasin’ you.” He’s humping my ass like a horny fucking ankle dog and I want to drive his teeth down his throat.

“It was a side-of-the-highway meeting... You were speeding… I let you off with a warning…” His voice is hopeful as the memory smashes into me. That feels like a lifetime ago. It’s not though, not really. It was the one time I was pulled over while rushing back to work. Nox had royally pissed me off and we weren’t talking. I can see this man in my mind’s eye. He was clean shaven, showered, and not at all odorous that day. His obsession with me has driven him to self-neglect. Soon he will devolve into mass psychosis, if he isn’t there already. He is hunting me through the woods to catch and likely rape me, after all.

I wish I could remember his fucking name. The more I strain to pull from the recesses of my murky mind, the more I think he neglected to introduce himself that day. I see the lights in my rearview, hear the whoop of the siren, the tapping of his knuckle on my window, and the “Do you know how fast you were going?” he questioned me with. I now know his name never crossed his lips. I tense, and he feels it. The predator knows the prey is prepping to escape.

“Finally,” he huffs out against the nape of my neck. “You knowin’ who is about to fuck your pretty ass is going to make this so much sweeter.” He tugs the joggers down over the swell of my ass, bringing his face down to my rear. His tongue jams into my crease, licking through it as he spits and slobbers all over me.

I wait, trying to ignore what’s happening to me, and instead focusing on the path I need to take when I escapefrom beneath him. Calming the racing of my frantic heart with thoughts of turning the tables on him. I want to wrap my fingers around his neck again. Tie him up and watch the life drain out of his bulging eyes. The tiny feeling of power I held when he let me choke him has become an incessant nagging in my brain. An addiction that has me itching for another hit. I want to feel it again. I have to. Need to. I don’t care how I get it, all I know is that I want it, and thinking about it brings me both peace and irritation.

I feel him shifting over me, the head of his pathetic dick sliding up and down the crack of my ass. His hand encircles the back of my neck, pushing me harder into the dirt as he thrusts against me, but never sinking inside.

“You know what’s fucked, Mallory?” His raspy voice invades my ears, vibrating the drums and sending the sounds so deep I’ll never escape them. Alarm bells ring at the use of my name. He’s never done that before and it scares me in a whole new way. I stay silent but he continues to speak and rut against my flesh. “I want you to want me to fuck you.”Never gonna happen sicko. “You’re different, and I think I might keep you.” He shudders as his release barrels through him, shooting out onto my skin. I suppress the fear snaking its way into my veins, but welcome the haze rolling over me like cold fog moving in on a hot day, obscuring everything in its path.

“NOW, MALLORY!”Ghost’s voice roars in my mind, shattering the dissociative state I was slipping into. My vision clears, and without wasting a second more, I throw my elbow up into the man’s jaw. He’s too high on his orgasm to see it coming. I plant my hands in the dirt,bucking him off like a bronco throwing off the cowboy before his eight seconds are up. He thumps into the ground, and I scramble away, righting my pants as I go.

I make it all of fifteen steps before my feet are swept out from under me and I crash face first into the dirt. My legs are tied together and I can’t get free. I roll over to see what happened to me, and there stands my captor. His blue eyes meet mine through the dark. He’s a few paces away from me, watching and assessing what I’ll do next.

“It’s a bola wrap.” He shakes the device in his hand. “Police issued. Very effective at restraining uncooperative suspects,” he states blatantly.

I frantically try to unwind the rope wrapped around my calves, but I only manage to tangle it further. He moves erratically towards me, and I wonder if he’s losing his grip on reality.

“I think our game is over for the night, darlin’.” He pulls the cuffs from his pocket and moves to snap them around my wrists. I struggle to evade his hold, not wanting to go back to the cellar.

His face is inches from mine as I notice the bruising from my head-butt starting to fade from the bright colour it used to be. The welt forming on his jaw from moments ago has satisfaction surging through me, and I speak before I know what comes over me. “What did you tell your coworkers about your face?” I smirk, knowing this will worm under his skin in the most uncomfortable way. His eyes shoot daggers as malevolent intention swims in my veins.

“That I tripped on the stairs,” he grumbles.

“Hmm, and what will you tell them about the newbruise on your face?” I snark, and he stills, lifting his raging ocean eyes to mine.

“Lucky for me, everyone thinks I’m a bumbling, scared, little bitch, so they’ll all believe whatever story I tell ‘em.” He gets impossibly closer to me, and I know whatever he’s about to say is meant to ruin me.

“Did you know…your boyfriend was sent off on assignment?” What? Nox is gone? His eyes flick between mine, absorbing the reaction rolling through me. Cold seeps into the very marrow of my bones. Lennox probably doesn’t know I’m missing. How long is he gone for? Will I be dead before he comes back and sees the state of my house?

---