Page 38 of Stream & Scream
She’s so fucking naive.
I want to grab her by her expensive fucking hair and drag her to where Maxine's body lays rotting in the woods and show her just how stupid she is.
Movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention.
The air shifts, taking on an electric charge that makes goosebumps pimple all over my body.
Heemerges from the trees, watching them intently.
I've been expecting him but seeing him in person is still a shock. The array of tactical gear makes him look like something from a military nightmare. The mask hides his face, but his intent is clear as he steps into view.
Kill.
He moves with speed, positioning himself behind Lexie before she knows he’s there. The two girls are too busy arguing to notice him.
If I was a better person I’d warn them. I’d scream, throw rocks, dosomethingthat might give them a chance to run and hide, to survive the next few minutes. It would be the right thing to do, thehumanthing.
But I don't make a sound.
Because I want that prize money more than I want to see them live.
My thoughts should horrify me. But I’m too intrigued by The Hunter to care. He’s fucking terrifying, but that tactical gear and that mask…
I settle against the tree trunk, watching for what comes next.
Lexie is still talking into her camera, gesturing dramatically as she rambles.
His hand closes around her hair.
The movement is so fast, so sudden, that for a moment my brain can't process what I'm seeing. She's being yanked backward with enough force to lift her off the ground.
Her shriek cuts off abruptly as he tilts her head back, exposing her throat to the firelight. I recognize the angle is perfect—for the cameras, for the audience, for maximum visual impact. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
Tara screams and scrambles backward, but she doesn't run. She’s frozen in place, crouching there with her mouth wide open, too shocked to move, too terrified to think.
The Hunter doesn't acknowledge Tara's terror. His entire focus is on Lexie, on the way she struggles in his grip, on the way her perfectly manicured hands claw uselessly at his tactical gloves.
It’s no use. He’s easily double her size and three times as strong as she is.
"Please," she gasps, and for the first time since I've known her, she’s not acting. "Please don't hurt me. I'll do anything you want?—"
He pulls a knife from his pocket, flipping the serrated edge open as he positions it carefully against her throat.
"Jesus," he says, his voice low and rough yet absolutely fucking captivating, "I thought you'd never shut the fuck up."
Then he drives the blade up through her chin.
The knife pierces soft tissue and bone with a squelching sound, bursting through the roof of her mouth and effectively severing her ability to speak, to scream, to do anything but gurgle blood.
Her eyes go wide with surprise. But I don’t think that look is entirely because of the pain. It’s like some part of her stillcan't believe this is happening and she’s confused as to why the director still hasn’t yelled "cut.”
But there is no next take. There's just blood spreading across her perfect features, running down her pierced chin to stain the stupid tracksuit.
The Hunter holds her there for a moment, supporting her weight as her body convulses and her nervous system shuts down.
It's horrible. Brutal.
My breath catches, my heart pounds, my thighs clench involuntarily as I watch him demonstrate just how powerful he is.
