Ruin (The Rhodes 1)

Although it comes from a distance, I hold my breath at the now-familiar voice.

No way.

He still talks and sounds normal?

I struck him with all my might. With a metal plate no less. He’s supposed to at least pass out for a while, right?

Or was I that weak?

“I’m not in the mood to hunt, so don’t force me, lamb.” His voice is calm, modulated as if he’s a programmed robot. “If you show up now, I may not hurt you.” A pause. “For long.”

Sick, sick bastard!

I jump to my feet. I can’t pinpoint the sudden energy’s source, but pain and fear blur in the background. I bolt towards the unknown. Walls fade into an endless sprout of grey.

“Last chance, mouse.” His voice grows far as if he’s speaking from another dimension.

I smile. I’m losing him.

Damn the psycho. What’s with lamb and mouse?

I’ll turn into a snake and bite him in the face.

Aching pain kicks back into my muscles. Is this corridor ever going to end?

After what seems like hours, irregular long stairs come into view. My heart thunders with something different than tiredness.

Joy. Hope. Success.

Yes!

I leap to the stairs, ending the nightmare.

“It took you long enough.”

I jump back, yelping.

A dark silhouette appears from my right. Out of freaking nowhere.

Icy coldness washes over my core.

No, no, no...this can’t be happening.

Was he waiting for me the entire time?

I blink a few times, trying to make out a face. The darkness allows me to only decipher a contour of my kidnapper’s imposing physique. I can’t possibly mistake that height and those broad shoulders.

My limited vision darts between him and the stairs.

I spring to the sole possible exit.

My feet touch the first step when I’m yanked back by a strong tug on my hair. Burning pain explodes in my scalp as my back hits something warm and solid. An unrestrained scream pierces the silence and echoes down the hallway. My scream.

Tears spring to my eyes, but I refuse to either look at him or admit defeat. I stomp on his foot, hoping he will release my hair.

He doesn’t. His grip pulls harshly until I’m forced to tilt my head back to ease the pressure.

His features are still shrouded in darkness. My fingers fly to his hand, and I claw at it. No reaction. As if a mosquito bit him.