Page 8 of Sinister Legacy
I scramble back, too fucking frightened to do anything but sob desperately. “Please, no…” Climbing to my feet, I set off running. My ankle throbs with pain from the fall. The masked man is faster. I barely make it down the gravel path before he’s on me. He fists my hair and pulls me back toward the house, causing me to fall. My scalp burns with pain. I release a guttural scream, but no one steps outside their house to check. No one hears me. The cold and unforgiving front steps scrape my bare skin as he hauls me up onto the porch and into the hallway. Then he shuts the door, as if he has all the time in the world. The cold marble flooring stings my wounds. I have never known pain like this before. My hair has been torn from the roots, bruises litter my body from the fall, and the open wounds on my arms and legs have pieces of gravel stuck to them.
When he walks up to me with the axe dangling from his hand, I lash out and land a kick to his shin. I’m up on my feet, running down the hallway toward the kitchen, hoping to get to the door.
The man speaks in a distorted and strange voice. “There’s nowhere to run, Jessica.”
I release another sob, collapsing against the doorframe to the kitchen before throwing myself inside, my palms connecting with the edge of the island. Scanning the room for anything to use to defend myself, my eyes catch on the wooden block of knives. I hobble over as he enters the kitchen. With a violently trembling hand, I pull a knife from the block and hold it out in front of me, surprised I don’t drop it with how much my body shakes.
“Poor little Jessica. Always second best. Never first.”
“Fuck you!” I hiss, inching further away.
“Did you enjoy the home video?” He points the axe at me. “Soon you’ll look just as pretty as Jimmy Hill’s first victim.”
I sob uncontrollably, the panic threatening to immobilize me. “Why are you doing this?”
The masked man cocks his head. “It’s Halloween. Besides…” He pretends to pounce, making me cry out in fear. The knife nearly falls from my fingers. “The execution is close.”
“So what? You’re a copycat killer?” I spit the words with venom. The door is at my back. If I can only distract him long enough to make a run for it.
“This is so much bigger than that. And you get to be a part of it. You get to be the catalyst.”
Cold dread trickles down my spine. “You’re sick.”
My bare feet pound the kitchen floor as I take off running for the door. Fiery pain sears through my back, and I cry out, collapsing to the floor with a hard thud. My chin bounces off the hard surface, and my teeth sink into my tongue. The tangy taste of copper explodes in my mouth. I groan pitifully, blood spluttering from my lips.
With a sharp yank, the axe is pulled from my back, and he grabs my ankle. Streaks of blood decorate the floor as he hauls me out of the kitchen, through the hallway, and into the living room. I grab the doorframe, sobbing uncontrollably, begging and pleading for my life. But it falls on deaf ears.
My fingers slip off, and then we’re on the move again. He rolls me over onto my back, putting his heavy boot on my chest and swinging his axe at his side. With his other hand, he pulls out a phone from his pocket. “I hope you don’t mind if we make a little video. You want to be the star, right? Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, Jessica? To be the center of attention?”
“Please,” I weep. “Please, I don’t want to die.”
“No one wants to die, but we all have to sooner or later.” He steps off me, setting the camera down on the coffee table. “At least you get to die for something bigger.”
I try to crawl away, but I’m dizzy from the blood loss. It’s everywhere: on my hands, in my hair, and pouring from my mouth. The floor is slick with it, too.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He grabs my arm and drags me right back while I scream and cry and sob and plead. Anything to make it stop. To make him stop.
He kicks me in the head. “Would you lie still, bitch.”
Pain. So much fucking pain. The world spins in and out of focus. I cough, blood spluttering from my lips. I’m vaguely aware of my arms being toed with the boot until they’re stretched by my sides. Then my legs. I cough again, struggling to breathe because of the blood in my mouth. The axe is lifted high. It hovers there as my eyes roll back into my throbbing head.
“This will only hurt for a minute.”
The axe slices through the air.
Istare at my stepdad’s veiny hand when he curls his fingers around the coffee mug. It disappears from view behind the newspaper.
Meanwhile, Liam chats animatedly to my mom with his arm outstretched behind me on the chair. I don’t know why I agreed to let him come over for breakfast this morning. He wanted to stay over last night, but I said no because I had an essay to finish.
I didn’t get around to completing it, though, thanks to the man across the table who is currently ignoring everything and everyone. I was too preoccupied with his fingers in my cunt.
I don’t even feel bad for cheating on Liam. I mean, I should. But the truth is that I feel very little these days other than this constant longing to die.
I’m sick.
“Are you staying to watch my practice after school?” Liam asks, toying with the strands of my hair.
I breathe in his scent—amber and citrus and soap. My smile is half-assed at best. “Sure.”
