Page 20 of Fed By Fear

Githany

Stars swim past my vision from standing and turning so fast. Three figures pose in front of me, all masked, all familiar.

I’ve been in rooms with each one this evening.The butcher. The clown. The chainsaw psycho.

Which one spoke? I can’t see any of their mouths.

“Hello, ghost girl.” I recognize the clown’s voice, followed by a fit of laughter that flexes his stomach muscles.

“That’s right.” The chainsaw man cocks his head. “Madness told us you see dead people.” The burlap mask he’s wearing is more detailed than I realized. Two black button eyes sewn into the top have me wondering how he can see out at all. The lifeless buttons give the sack such a simplistic horror. His mouth is unusual. The smile that curves up into a perfect U is not made of buttons. Literal human teeth have been sewn across the sack. They sit in varying directions, root and all. Blood splatter coats the man like a garish art piece from the bottom half of the mask all the way down his exposed torso. His skin is even paler than mine, making the deep crimson blood flecking his lower abs stand out thatmuch brighter.

“What’s your name, ghost girl?” The butcher’s voice is deep enough to set something tingling within me.

My name. They want to know my name. “Githany.”What the fuck? Why did I tell them? Part of my brain must still be trapped in that tunnel. It’s like the word was pulled from my throat.

“Humans get scared in Reaper’s Playroom, Githany. You didn’t smell scared at all. Not until you got stuck back there.” The chainsaw man nods to the entrance.

That clicking sound. It’s gone now. I peer over my shoulder. Thankfully nothing followed me out.

Fingers wrap around the wrist of my injured hand, snapping my gaze forward. The butcher moved in silence. The air between us vanishes as he towers over me. His pig mask is even more menacing up close.

“You’re hurt.” The trio share a round of low laughter. “Let us kiss it better.”

Hunt

Githany’s eyes lose focus as Gator spins her around. He pins the front of her body next to the tunnel’s entrance. The action is rough enough to shoot a thrill to my groin.

He presses her stomach against the stone, bending her injured arm behind her. With her face to the wall, she can’t see him drop to his knees and remove his pig mask. His right hand lays flat against her back, trapping her while she struggles against him. His left hand pushes her sleeve up, revealing blue all the way to her fingertips. As she fights him, a hint of blue peeks out from just under her neckline.

Gator turns to us. We all share a look. Whatever is happening, it’s changing her fast.

Githany yelps when Gator adjusts his grip on her wrist, raising her split palm to his mouth. My eyes are glued to the tip of his pierced tongue as it swipes out, lapping up the free-flowing blood from her hand.

Githany whimpers. Gator licks her again. The second whimper is even louder. Gator’s head swings toward me. I assume he’s reacting to the taste of the blood. Blood is usuallymydomain. He’s more into flesh itself. But when Githany’s scent hits my nostrils, that wild intensity in his glowing eyes makes perfect sense.She smells like arousal.

Madness groans next to me. He can smell it too.

Githany throws her free elbow behind her, clipping Gator in his cheek. He scrambles to pull his mask back down. Our girl kicks out, her boot slamming into the center of his chest. Gator topples over. I bet he wasn’t expecting her to fight like that.

Watching her beat the hell out of Gator becomes an image I’m instantly craving more of. I’d pay to watch her hurt him while he’s tied up. She’d look exquisite, naked and panting. Taking her fill inflicting the pain Gator loves so much and then sitting on his battered and bloodied face.

I’m in trouble. I’ve known this girl for five minutes and she’s already got me lost in daydreams.

Githany uses the few seconds it takes Gator to regain his footing and runs.

My muscles tighten. If she knew what running triggered in me…Run, run, run.

They call me Hunt for a reason.

“Don’t.” Madness’s grip on my arm is punishing. “Don’t kill her if you catch her.”

A deep inhale calms me fractionally. He’s right. Wehaven’t had any fun yet. In this heightened state, I’m likely to get carried away. “I won’t.”

He groans as I launch into a chase, my chainsaw swinging in my grip.

Githany’s green and black hair whips around her face as she glances side to side. She’s seeking something familiar to tell her where she’s at in relation to the exit. But this isn’t the same room she was in before she went into that tunnel. It may look similar, but we’re in our own arena now. The perfect place to play our little game without any interference from the outside world.

The sounds of her heavy breathing have my mouth watering. She’s made a bold choice, running blindly in the dark. Bold, but futile.