Page 49 of For Rage

And then she heard a sound, a rustling in the bushes. Footsteps, coming closer.

Sarah froze, her heart pounding in her chest. It was the Maze Killer, coming to finish her off. It had to be.

Sarah's heart raced, and she clawed at the dirt with all her strength—but still, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to get free. The sound grew closer and closer, until Sarah was sure he would find her any moment now. She dug and clawed with all her might, tears streaming down her face as she prayed for a miracle—and yet, try as she might, the grass held tight around her limbs, firmly in place like an iron vice.

Then the footsteps were right in front of her.

Petrified, she dared to look up.

And there he was. The gardener. He had an eerie smile on his face, and he was holding fresh flowers in his arms.

"Ah, you're awake," he said. "You look marvelous."

"L-let me go!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, my dear," he said, "it's already too late for you. The poison is inside you, making its way through your system ... but they won't know that." He draped a flower over her shoulder.

"Who?" Sarah asked. This guy was insane. She just had to keep talking, maybe see if she could somehow get through to him. "Please, I-I have a life, sir. My parents will be devastated. My mom just lost her sister, and she—"

"You lost your aunt?" he cut in.

Sarah flinched, taken aback. "Yes ..."

He pouted, then draped another flower over her shoulder. "So sad for you. That's okay. Your life will be something beautiful. Every garden needs its centerpiece."

Sarah's eyes widened in terror as she realized what he meant. He was going to make her a part of his sick garden. The Maze Killer had struck again.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the poison made her throat constrict, taking away her voice. She was trapped, unable to move, unable to escape. Her eyes flickered to the man holding the flowers, and she saw the madness in his eyes. He was enjoying this.

Sarah closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle. She had always been a fighter, but now, she was powerless. The poison worked its way through her veins, making her feel weak and dizzy. She knew she didn't have much time left.

Sarah shuddered, terror gripping her insides. She knew she had to do something, anything, to get away from this man. But she was so weak, so trapped in the dirt around her. She couldn't even move her legs. She had to keep trying, keep fighting.

"Please," she begged, "you don't have to do this. I won't tell anyone, I swear. Just let me go. Please."

The man laughed, and it sent shivers down Sarah's spine. "Oh, my dear. You don't understand. This is what I have to do. It's what I was meant to do. I'm a gardener, you know. And every garden needs its flowers. You'll be perfect."

Sarah's heart felt like it was going to stop. She had to think, had to come up with a plan. But her mind was foggy, her thoughts jumbled. She couldn't focus.

"Please, I'm a person," she said. "A person, just like you. I have a life. Hopes. Dreams. Please ..."

"I'm so sorry, dear," he said."Shenever showed me any mercy.Shenever cared about my pain. And you, dear Sarah, are just like her."

"Like who?" Sarah felt tears wet her cheeks. "Who are you talking about? I'm not her! I've never hurt you!"

The gardener's smile shifted to a sneer. "Oh, but you have. You've hurt me just like she did. You've hurt me by existing, by taking up space in this world that she no longer can. And now, you'll be a part of my garden, just like she is."

Sarah's mind raced. Who was this woman he was talking about? And how could she use that to her advantage?

"Please, tell me who she is," Sarah said. "Maybe I can help you. Maybe we can find a way to honor her memory, rather than destroy more lives."

The gardener's expression softened, and he looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, you're not like her at all. She was cruel. She never cared about anyone but herself. But you ... you have a kind heart.It's too bad about that hair of yours."

"My hair?" Sarah looked at her orange hair, draping over the dirt.

"I think I'll take a piece of it," he said, "to remember you by." He took out scissors, and they gleamed in the light. He grabbed a piece of her hair and snipped it off, marveling at it, before he looked down at her with a twisted smile.

"Don't worry, dear," he said. "It will all be over soon."

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