Page 96 of Distorted Obsession

With no time left to talk myself out of this shit plan, I take off toward the trees.

“Stop, you stupid bitch!”

Ignoring the enraged shouts, I hook a left on the path and run without looking back. I drown out their demands for me to stop. My heart thumps in my chest as my gaze flits about, trying to find the perfect place to veer off. If I can make it around this bend, I know there’s a hill up ahead that will be the ideal place to lose them.

Without looking, I strain my ears to see if I can hear anything, but I’m only met with the sound of my feet and heavy breathing.

They couldn’t have given up already, could they?I shake my head. “There’s no chance it would be that simp?—”

My words are cut off as I go from standing to hitting the ground with a thud.

“Fuck,” I groan, rolling to my side, slowly pushing to my feet when I’m cracked in my side. This time, when I fall, I don’t move to stand. Instead, I ignore the pain and begin to crawl. I just need to get away from whichever asshole has secretly caught up to me.

“Tsk tsk tsk. And where do you think you’re skulking off to?” The saccharine-sweet, questioning voice is filled with contempt and mockery. Then, two more blows land, one on my side, the other on my back, and I begin to see stars.

A fucking kidney shot.

Clutching my side, I wheeze, blinking up at the figure walking over to where I lie on the ground. It’s too dark to make out exactly who it is. But I know they’re tall with a seemingly lean build. I can’t really tell anything beyond that because they’re wearing a hood, and their face is covered. However, I do make out the aluminum bat glinting in the moonlight as it scrapes across the ground.

“Where’s that snarky attitude from earlier?” they challenge.

My eyes bulge at that response. “B-B-Bobby?” I ask, praying it’s him because I know I can reason with him to some extent. Shit, if it gets me out of this, I’ll go with whomever he tells me to.

“Like I would ever be that bottom-feeder of a poor excuse for a brother,” they snicker. “But I will say he helped me corner you quite nicely.” Their head tilts to the side, studying me before continuing. “He’ll do anything for some money, won’t he?”

Betrayal stabs me through the heart because he would doanythingfor money. Tears prick at my eyes, and then a whoosh sounds through the air right before the bat hits my kneecap. Once. Twice. A third and fourth time, shattering the bones. It’s so painful that when my lips part, nothing comes out.

“I bet you didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” they taunt, circling me like a predator does its prey.

Think, Tricia. You need to get the fuck away from this psycho.

“Don’t… please… stop,” I gasp, but they don’t. Three more blows land, this time on my left arm.

Laughing, they reply, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Crack. Another hit lands in my chest, and I know I’m going to die out here.

I’m in too much pain to even scream, but I find my voice. “Why are you doing this?”

“In life, you’re given choices. No matter the situation, there are choices, and each choice has a reaction—cause and effect, if you will,” the crazy fucker states.

Then I watch through dazed eyes as the bat swings down, almost like it’s in slow motion. “And you, Tricia, made the wrong choice and picked on the wrong person, inevitably becoming the cause. And I, dear girl—I am the effect,” they singsong as the bat cracks me in the stomach.

“Pluh-uh-ease,” I scream, but the only response I receive is another hit, this time against my other kneecap. Pain, like I’ve never felt before, shoots through every nerve in my body.

Their laughter mixes with my screams—a cacophony ringing like a melancholic ballad through the crisp autumn air for only the trees to hear.

They say you find peace in death, but I feel no peace. All I feel is anguish, rage, and despair. Life wasn’t ever fucking fair to me.

I’m met with a small reprieve, giving me the courage to look up, only to find bright eyes piercing me where I lay, shocking me to my core. They’ve taken their mask off, and a look of what can only be described as glee dons their face. It’s almost an exact replica of the smug look I had earlier tonight.

“It’s y-y-you.” I slur, my words garbled.

“Yes, cunt, it’s me,” they cackle, saluting me. “Say hi to your friend Portia when you reach Hell’s gates.” And with the last of my breath, I realize Portia’s death was never an accident.

Blinking, I gruff out a weak laugh as it all becomes crystal clear.Anyone who messes with Eva Pierce is marked for death.

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