Page 22 of For Wrath

"Stop!"she screamed one last time, her voice hoarse from the strain. "I won't letyou get away!"

Despite herdetermination, the man remained just out of reach, his hooded figure growingsmaller in the distance. As he disappeared around a corner, Morgan felt a waveof despair crash over her, threatening to consume her entirely.

Morgan's eyeslocked onto the fire exit door as it slammed shut, her instincts screaming ather not to let the man escape. She sprinted towards the door, her heartpounding in her chest like a caged animal desperate for freedom. She felt thecold metal of the fire exit handle against her palm and swung it open with allher might.

"Stop rightthere!" she yelled, bursting out into the harsh sunlight of the streetbelow.

Her eyes scannedthe bustling scene around her, trying to catch a glimpse of the hooded figureamong the crowd. But it was as if he had vanished into thin air, swallowed upby the city itself. As the adrenaline began to fade, frustration anddisappointment coursed through Morgan's veins.

"Damnit," she muttered under her breath, clenching her fists tightly at hersides. The cacophony of the city streets – honking horns, distant sirens,murmured conversations – seemed to mock her failure.

"Hey lady,you okay?" a passerby asked, looking concerned at Morgan's laboredbreathing and clenched expression.

"Fine,"she snapped, quickly holstering her gun and straightening her jacket."Just... lost someone."

"Ah, I'msorry. Good luck finding them," the stranger said, offering a sympatheticsmile before continuing on their way.

"Thanks,"Morgan replied tersely, her thoughts racing a mile a minute. How could she havelet him get away? What if this was her only chance to find the truth?

She took a deepbreath and let it out slowly. Now wasn't the time to wallow in self-pity ordwell on her mistakes. She needed to regroup and keep pushing forward. Thissetback was just another challenge to overcome. For all she knew, the hooded manwas simply a stranger, but Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that he was muchmore than that.

Either way, hewas gone now. Her personal matters could wait.

She had a serialkiller to catch.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ella's heartpounded in her chest, the metallic taste of fear coating her tongue. Her wristsached from the tight straps that held her to the chair, and her body trembledwith the effort of trying to break free. The harsh glare of the overhead lightsburned her eyes, making it impossible for her to see anything beyond theblinding white.

"Please,"she gasped, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I'll do whatever you want.Just don't hurt me."

Her plea was metwith silence, leaving her to wonder if anyone was even there or if she'd beenabandoned in this hellish place. But then, a figure emerged from the shadows,his footsteps echoing on the cold concrete floor. As he stepped into the light,Ella could see that he wore a surgical mask, only his eyes visible.

They had no soul.

"Finally, wereach an understanding," the man said softly, his voice devoid of emotion."You will offer your youth freely, won't you?"

Ella's stomachchurned at his words, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of what he wasasking of her. She knew she had no choice but to comply, despite the revulsionthat clawed at her insides. "Yes," she whispered, tears welling up inher eyes. "I promise."

"Good,"the man replied, a hint of satisfaction creeping into his tone. "My workso far has ruined the material, yielded little results. I need to harvestsomething pure this time." He paused, studying her face intently, and Ellafought the urge to shrink away from his cold gaze.

"Please,just let me go," she begged, her voice barely audible. "I won't tellanyone, I swear."

But the man in thesurgical mask merely shook his head, his expression unreadable behind hissterile disguise. "You made a promise, remember?" he said softly, andElla knew that there would be no escape, no reprieve from the nightmare thathad become her reality.

Ella's heartraced as she watched the man reach for a gleaming scalpel, its razor-sharp edgeglinting under the harsh lights. Desperate panic surged through her, and shecouldn't help but let out a whimper of fear. She had never felt so helpless, soutterly at the mercy of another person. It was something out of a nightmare.She was too young to die--she had her whole future ahead of her, so manyplans... her followers, all the money she was supposed to make. Was that reallyall she cared about now?

No. It was herparents she wished to see again. Her little brother. She wished she'd nevermoved to Dallas. At least she had her girlfriend here, but even she couldn'tsave Ella now.

It was over forher.

"Please,"she whispered again, her voice trembling uncontrollably. "Don't dothis."

The man ignoredher plea, studying the blade with a sort of morbid fascination before turninghis attention back to her. Slowly, deliberately, he removed the surgical maskfrom his face, revealing a visage that made Ella's blood run cold.

His skin wasmangled as if it had been stretched and pulled until it became unrecognizable.It was pitted and scarred, with deep lines furrowing his face and abnormalbumps growing along his lips and nose. The edges of his eyes were discolored,making them seem to vanish into the paleness of his skin.

"Tell me I'myoung and handsome," he commanded, his voice soft but deadly. "Tellme what I want to hear."

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