The sound of faraway footfall was muffled by the constant beating of the rain on the old cabin’s tin roof. Emma pushed her shaking hands over the deep incision in her thigh and groaned inside. Hot, unrelenting blood poured between her fingers. She pushed herself against the wooden wall, her pulse thumping with terror, and her breath came in harsh gulps. She had been almost inches away from the axe. She was still alive despite the serious wound.
There was a harsh chuckle outside. The murderer remained on the loose.
It had begun as a get-together. Five friends had travelled to Black Hollow Woods for a weekend retreat, united by their shared childhood memories. It was meant to be enjoyable, a chance to escape the turmoil of their lives and revisit the past. But by midnight, they were screaming instead of laughing. They were chased down one by one. They dropped, one by one.
As the axe dug into Josh’s chest, Emma could still see his wide, appalled eyes. Like a broken record, the terrible crunch of bone and flesh played over and over in her head. Then there was Lily, who had managed to reach the car, but when the blade struck her head, the storm drowned out her cries.
Despite the discomfort in her leg, Emma had run till she came upon the deserted cabin at the edge of the forest.
The door trembled.
Emma’s blood became icy. She covered her lips with a hand to stop breathing. The slow, deliberate creak of the wooden door suggested that the murderer was relishing the moment. The candlelight flickered and a shadow loomed.
Then there was quiet.
Emma closed her eyes tightly. She could hear her blood gently dropping onto the floor because the room was so quiet. Then the scrape of wood against steel. The axe.
Through the shadows a voice slithered. “Emma, you are the last one.”
Her breath caught. That voice was familiar to her. Someone she had trusted owned it. A person who was to be deceased.
Mark.
Her best pal from childhood. The person who disappeared ten years ago following the murder of his parents at their house. The case was no longer active. They had thought he was either dead or, worse, abducted. But here he was now. He had also turned into a monster.
Mark muttered, his voice heavy with something dark and twisted, “I waited so long for this.” “All of you overlooked me. abandoned me to decay in the shadows. However, I never forgot. I’m never forgiving.
Emma balled her hands into fists. Her leg burned with pain, but dread overcame the pain. This is not where she would die. Not in this manner.
With his boots crunching on the wood floor, Mark took another step. Emma’s fingers brushed across a surface as she searched about aimlessly for a weapoon.
She pounced, ramming the poker into Mark’s ribs as he raised the axe. The wound wasn’t lethal, but he gasped and staggered back. Ignoring the burning ache in her leg, Emma clambered to her feet and started running. She rushed into the storm through the cabin door. She continued despite the wind howling and the rain pelting her cheeks. She was unable to.
From behind her came a howl of rage. She dared not to turn around.
She rushed into the forest, the trees fading into the distance. Above, thunder shattered. She pressed on despite the muddy terrain threatening to drag her down. It was close to the major road. If only she could get there
