Demon (13 page)

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Authors: Laura DeLuca

BOOK: Demon
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“‘Can you spare a penny for miserable soul? A sad desperate woman who will never be whole’,” she sang her signature lines under her breath, hoping the impromptu rehearsal would distract her from the fact that she was really starting to freak herself out. It might have distracted her a little
too
much. She was so busy humming she didn’t pay any attention to where she was going. A moment later, she felt something snare her ankle. It took her completely by surprise, and she was unable to keep herself from falling. She tripped and slammed onto the cement, spewing unladylike curses the entire way down. She hit the ground pretty hard. Her jeans were torn and the knees beneath were bleeding, but her palms had taken the brunt of the fall. She flinched when she tried to wipe away the gravel and realized most if it was embedded in her skin.

“Dammit!” she swore.

Of course, her book bag had also tumbled over, and all of her books and school supplies had poured out. She did her best to gather the items back up when the rustling started again right behind her. Rebecca was instantly alert. Her bag was forgotten as she tried to pull herself to her feet. She was prepared to run if need be, despite her throbbing knees. She was just about to break into a sprint when the culprit finally appeared—a large golden stag with antlers three layers high. He leaped onto the path, no more than a few feet away from her. They stared at each other for a moment, both frozen in a combination of fear and awe, before the majestic animal finally bound off to the other side of the woods and disappeared again into the forest beyond.

Rebecca laughed at her own foolishness. She knew she had been right. It really
was
just an animal. Just one that was a little bigger than she expected. Now she had ruined her favorite jeans and Justyn would torment her for weeks, all because of her silly paranoia. Rebecca groaned as she bent back down to pick up the rest of her things. She was going to shove them in her bag and be on her way, but when she reached for her textbook, her hand brushed against something else. Something she hadn’t noticed before. Something a little ominous. She had thought it was a branch or a rock that she had stumbled over.

It wasn’t.

It was a rope.

It hit her then in an instant how foolish she had been. It wasn’t just a rope. It was a snare—a trap. A trap that she had unwittingly fallen right into. Rebecca’s textbook fell to the ground unnoticed. She forgot all about her discarded book bag and purse. She was going to run screaming back toward the safety of the dorms. But before she could scamper to her feet, a stocky arm grabbed her from behind, covered her mouth with a gloved hand, and started dragging her toward the dark cover of the woods.

Chapter Twelve

Rebecca fought to break free as her faceless assailant dragged her deeper into the forest. She squirmed and kicked. She even tried to wrap her legs around fallen branches to slow him down. Still, it was no use. The man was too strong, and she couldn’t get any leverage as he dragged her across the bristles and underbrush. When escape failed, she tried to bite down on his fingers, but the hand that covered her mouth kept her restrained with a precision that could only come with practice. Rebecca instantly knew who she was battling. This was the man who had been stalking the campus. This was the rapist from the wanted poster.

Rebecca might have been stupid enough to fall into his trap, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him take her down without a fight. Even though her struggles seemed fruitless, she used every ounce of her strength to try to escape the grasp of her silent attacker. She continued to thrash her body almost compulsively. It didn’t make him let go, but it slowed his progress. Finally, she was rewarded when for just a fifth of a second, his hand slipped from her mouth.

“Heeellll….!”

He silenced her scream before she could even finish the word with a hard crack across her face. Her ears rang and her eyes went out of focus from the force of the blow. Despite her blurred vision, she got her first glimpse of his black ski mask, which conveniently hid all details of his features from view.

“Shut up, you stupid little bitch.”

His voice was gruff. A little too gruff to be natural. He was smart enough to disguise his real voice, yet something about the underlying tones seemed strangely familiar. Rebecca didn’t have long to think about it. Before she had even caught her breath, he yanked her up by her long hair. He removed his hand from her lips and pressed his mouth hard against hers. The mask was rough against her skin, but nowhere near as revolting as the foul-breathed tongue that tried to force its way into her mouth. She threw her head from side-to-side, trying to keep him from entering. Both his hands were occupied with pinning her arms to the ground. He couldn’t control the movements of her head as well. He mumbled a curse under his breath and tried to get her into a more confining position.

Rebecca took advantage of the distraction and jerked up her knee as hard as she could. She didn’t have much room to aim, but she managed to get in a pretty good shot to his gut. He grunted and doubled over a second, and she tried to scramble to her feet. But he recovered too quickly and had his hand around her ankle before she could escape. She slammed back to the ground, bumping the corner of her head against a fallen tree trunk. For a moment, she was too dizzy and dazed to move or speak. Her head was pounding, and she could barely see between the spinning and the darkness of the night. That was all the time her assailant needed to regain control of the situation.

“You’re a feisty one,” he said with a deranged chuckle. He climbed back on top of her, trapping her under his weight once again. “That’s okay. I like them feisty. It gives me a reason to take out my toys.”

Rebecca leaned up as far as she could and spit in his face. “Get off of me, you sick, twisted bastard.”

The spray of saliva hardly touched him, and he seemed completely unfazed as he reached in the pocket of his sweatpants. She was going to scream again, but the cry died on her lips when she saw the glint of silver in the moonlight. The man flipped open a razor blade and held it against her throat.

“Scream again and I’ll cut you.”

His voice was only a brusque whisper, but the threat was still clear. Rebecca froze. She could feel the sharp edge of the knife against her neck. The edge pricked her skin, and a few drops of blood welled from the wound. Terrified, she felt her body go limp in submission under his greedy hands. He slid one hand under her shirt for just a minute before reaching down lower to try and unzip her pants. It filled her with a horror and repulsion unlike anything she had ever known.

In that moment, everything changed. She didn’t care about the weapon anymore. There was no more submission when she realized that some things would be worse than death. As terrified as she was, a sort of primal instinct kicked in. When the man slithered a little lower to try to shimmy off her pants, she was able to move just enough to give him a swift kick. She aimed for the groin, but the blow fell short and landed on this thigh. She still hoped it would buy her some time, but it only infuriated him more.

“Bitch,” he swore, furious. “Say goodbye to your pretty little face.”

The razor was inching down toward her cheek, but Rebecca was able to pull one arm free at the last second. She lifted it to shield her face. The blade kept coming, and Rebecca cried out in pain as the steel cut deep into the soft skin just above her wrist. It cut through her thin sweater effortlessly and bit deep into the flesh beneath. Blood welled up so quickly it made her dizzy again, but she fought back the waves of nausea that threatened to drown her. The man was frustrated and distracted because he had missed his intended mark, giving Rebecca one last chance to break free. She thrust her leg out again with all her strength, and her aim held true. Her foot made contact with the center of his pants. The sudden jolt sent him sprawling backward. While he struggled to right himself and catch his breath, Rebecca was able to pull herself to her feet.

Then Rebecca ran. She ran faster than she knew her skinny legs could carry her. She didn’t dare look behind her as she dashed through the crackling underbrush, scaring more than one rabbit and nesting bird from their hiding places. As she ran, she screamed, hoping to alert some passerby of the danger, though the area still seemed deserted. In the distance, she could see the lights of the campus walkway calling to her like a beacon. She headed toward it, ignoring the branches that snared her clothes and clung to her hair. When she stumbled and fell, she disregarded the painful bruises and pulled herself back to her feet. She ignored the awful stitch in her side and the fact she could hardly breathe. Even the gaping wound on her arm that burned and throbbed in time with her racing heart was forgotten. Rebecca ran until she broke free of the trees, and even then she kept moving.

Rebecca didn’t hear any sounds of pursuit behind her, but she didn’t dare stop until she knew she was out of danger. Instinctively knowing the school cafeteria was the closet building that would have people and therefore safety, she turned off her regular route and headed in that direction. All the while, she heard terrified screams that she only vaguely realized were coming out of her own mouth.

When the building finally came into view, she could hear chattering voices in the distance and knew she was almost there. She was almost safe. She knew they heard her too, because already, people were starting to gather outside to see what all the shouting was about. She took a shortcut and stumbled through a patch of bushes. When she finally fell to the ground at the feet of a group of startled upperclassmen, she was covered in blood, her clothes torn to shreds and leaves in her hair.

“Oh my God!” one of the girls exclaimed. “What happened to you?”

“He’s coming! He’s coming!” Rebecca cried. “Please … please help me. Don’t let him get me again.”

“No one is going to get you, honey,” the older girl soothed and bent down to wrap Rebecca in the safety of her arms. Her sweet round face and halo of flaxen hair almost made her seem like Rebecca’s own guardian angel. “You’re safe now.”

Rebecca had to take her at her word. She sank in the arms of the other girl and overcome with pain and exhaustion, finally fell into a welcome oblivion.

Chapter Thirteen

Rebecca dreamed of faces in masks. Ski masks and the mask of the phantom lingered over her bed, always watching, always staring. Some were nondescript, while others seemed familiar. Some even had crazy black hair with a white streak, just like Sweeney Todd. When she tried to tear the masks away, a dozen different faces would flash before her eyes. She saw Debbie’s wicked glare, Chad’s cocky grin, and Livy’s belittling smile. They blended and merged, taunting and laughing as they watched a man in a ski mask lift his razor blade to her throat. He was just about to bury the blade into her flesh right in front of his amused audience when Rebecca jerked to awareness.

Her heart was still pounding when she opened her eyes. At first, she felt even more dazed than she had in her fitful sleep. She had no idea where she was. She only knew she was lying on a blanket of white sheets, immersed in the smell of disinfectant and the sound of beeping monitors. She began to feel a little panicked. Then she saw Justyn. He was sitting in an armchair beside her bed with his head in his hands. He seemed upset, but she wasn’t sure why.

“Justyn?” she whispered.

Her voice sounded raspy even to her own ears, and her throat was dry and scratchy. Nevertheless, as soon as he heard his name, Justyn’s head popped up.

“Becca!”

Justyn was immediately beside her, grasping her fingers so desperately it almost hurt. Rebecca noticed right away that he looked awful. His face was pale and drawn. His eyes were red and blotchy, and the huge dark circles under them had nothing to do with black eyeliner. The last thing she could remember was him getting sick. Is that why they were in a hospital? But if that were the case, then why was
she
the one in the bed?

“Justyn … what … what happened?”

“Becca, are you…. ” he paused as his voice caught with emotion, “are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

Rebecca was still groggy and confused, kind of the way she felt when she first woke up from anesthesia after she had her wisdom teeth taken out. Yet, once he asked, she realized she
was
pretty sore. Her whole body ached, like she had overdone it in Zumba class. Her head was pounding, and her right arm was on fire. She lifted it up to examine it and saw the bandages there. Blood was seeping through the white gauze and there was an awful stinging sensation underneath the wrapping.

It was then it all came back to her. She saw the whole nightmare replay in her mind as though she were watching a horrible version of a home movie—the rope that tripped her, being dragged into the woods, the razor blade that had sliced her skin, her almost deranged sprint to safety. As each awful memory piled onto her fragile psyche, the terror started to overtake her. It was like she was reliving it all over again. Even though a part of her knew she was safe in the hospital room, she couldn’t swallow back the terrible terror that sprang to the surface.

Rebecca started to scream.

She had actually been screaming for a while, but she didn’t even realize it until she saw the stricken look on Justyn’s face. He was trying desperately to comfort her. He kept reaching out to hold her. But she just kept screaming, backing up as far against the headboard as possible, not allowing him to touch her. Not even the desperate look on his face could still the sheer panic that had taken control of her. She couldn’t stop crying out even though she wanted to.

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