Cruel King (Royal Elite 0)

I try to run on silent mode, but the twigs continue crunching under my feet as if purposely giving a signal to my hunters.

Branches and the odd tree trunk scrape against my bare arms as I carry on my run.

My pulse pounds in my ears as I reach a small road. I bend over behind a tree to catch my erratic breathing.

Aside from the moonlight slipping from between clouds and the trees, it’s pitch black out here. The mansion’s lights and music have completely disappeared.

The footsteps have vanished, too, and so did the voices. Phew. Maybe even my horrible athletic skills have managed to get me out of this unscathed.

Still, my heart won’t stop beating fast and hard against my chest cavity.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I take tentative steps towards the empty road, hoping to find someone for help.

Two steps forward. One step back.

The sound of a night bird — or beast — makes me freeze in place, almost peeing myself.

When I go back home, I won’t take gory or horror films for granted anymore. It’s terrifying as hell in real life.

“This way!” Someone shouts.

“No one sees and lives to tell about it.” A familiar voice, super familiar, deadpans as numerous, steady footsteps sprint in my direction.

I bolt down the road, my heart hammering in my chest so loud, I can’t hear my own footsteps.

Run.

Run.

Run!

They say you don’t feel it when your life ends.

I do.

It happens in a split second.

One moment, I’m running down the road, the next, blinding headlights freeze me in place.

I want to move. I want to get out of the way.

I can’t.

Something hard crushes against my side and I’m flying over the road. I fall with a thud, my hands lolling in an awkward position.

Something warm pools underneath me and sticks to my T-shirt.

Voices scatter all around me along with the loud squeal of someone slamming on brakes.

The metallic stench of blood fills my nostrils just like that day two years ago.

It’s rainy and dark. So fucking dark, I can smell death in the air.

It has a distinctive smell, death. All murky and metallic and smoky.

Mum’s head is lolled to the side with blood all over her neck, smudging the white blazer she was happy to receive last week.