Page 13 of The Wild Man

My eyes spring open when a gut-wrenching pain explodes in my lower stomach. Disorientation has me in its grip for all of two seconds before I realize what the pain is from.

I’m on my stomach with Wild Man’s heaving body on top of me.

He gives a brutal thrust, and I scream because it feels like he’s ripping me apart from the inside.

I grab the blanket underneath my hands and start bucking and twisting my hips, anything to get him off me. All it does is make him go deeper, which adds to my suffering. I scream and yell and cry until my voice goes hoarse and the cloth beneath my face is soaked with my tears.

I can do nothing. I’m stuck beneath this merciless and unhinged man as he continues to violate me over and over again.

Wild Man grabs my hair and yanks my head back. His other arm slides between me and the bed and up until his fingers wrap around my throat. Between the hair pulling and his harsh grip barely allowing me to breathe, black dots dance on the outside of my vision.

Wild Man buries his face in my neck and his hot breath scorches my skin. His grunts of pleasure mix with my cries of pain. He continues to rut, pounding his hard flesh into my abused body. His pelvis rams against my butt, retreats, and slams back forward. Revulsion and pain mix together, pulling me down into a terrifying void.

The black dots grow bigger, filling my vision. I welcome the thought of going unconscious. Anything to block out what’s being done to me.

Seconds or maybe minutes later, my body goes completely lax as my reprieve finally takes me under.

five

Everlee

Memories of what happened yesterday and during the night, plus the situation I put myself in, flash behind my closed eyelids before I come fully awake. I don’t want to open my eyes. Ignorance is bliss and all that shit. If I stay asleep, or at least pretend to be, maybe I can forget where I am and hold onto the hope that it was all a nightmare. Opening my eyes will make the situation real again.

Unfortunately, it’s not something I can avoid. Not if I want to find a way out of this mess. Also unfortunately, I can feel the rope around my waist. Unfortunately again, the soreness between my legs and the stickiness on my thighs is a harsh reminder, so my wishful ignorance would be unattainable regardless.

I don’t get the sense that Wild Man is in bed, so maybe I’ll be lucky and he’ll be gone somewhere so I can escape.

I crack my eyes open just a sliver, enough to see that it’s daylight. When I open them more, I damn near have a heart attack. Right in front of me, only a foot away from my face, is a pair of hollow eye sockets staring back at me. Fucking eye sockets! Inside of—what I assume—a human skull.

My stomach churns violently and bile threatens to make an appearance. I barely manage to swallow down the need to vomit.

I inch back from the nasty looking thing, keeping a watchful eye on it like it’ll suddenly come alive and attack me. I hold the cover to my chest, because surprise, I’m still naked. Warily, I take my eyes off the skull and look around the space for my clothes. I slap my hand over my mouth as a small screech leaves my lips when I find another skull on the other side of the pallet of blankets. This one is pointed at me as well, its hollow eyes staring at me as if in judgment.

What in the actual hell?

Are these people he’s killed and he’s keeping their skulls as trophies?

Jesus fuck, Ever, you’ve really done it this time.

I back off the end of the pallet, away from both skulls, dragging the cover and rope with me. Once I’m on my feet with the cover wrapped around me and tucked beneath my arms, I look toward the opening of the space where the other end of the rope leads out of. I tip my ear that way, listening for any indication that Wild Man is out there. When I hear nothing, I let out a breath of relief.

After a quick look around, I don’t find my clothes or anything I can use as clothes. Looks like I’ll be running through the forest in nothing but a bed cloth. At this point, I couldn’t give two craps, so long as I make it back to my car and away from the crazy man in the forest.

I keep my eyes locked to where the rope leads out and pick up the slack to give it a small tug. The rope pulls taut, but doesn’t otherwise move. Which means the chances are high that the other end is tied to something and not someone.

Last night, after waiting what felt like hours for Wild Man to drift off to sleep, I meant to try to work the knot loose. But when he finally did fall asleep, the bastard’s arms and legs were wrapped around me too tightly. The last thing I wanted to happen was for him to wake up. So I waited some more, hoping he would roll away or at least relax his hold enough for me to slip away. Of course, I stupidly fell asleep before that could happen. Only to be woken up sometime later to him fucking me again. Thankfully, my mind checked out.

Now I have to hope he’s gone long enough. Or maybe I can find something sharp to cut away the rope.

A quick look around shows nothing I can use at the moment. Or anything I can use as a weapon. I eye the skulls. I could use those. Maybe try to break one of them and use a pointed end. But just the thought of touching either one has my stomach churning furiously.

Hearing no noises coming from the opening, maybe I’ll get lucky and find the gun or taser he threw away. Or maybe my pack is still out by the fire so I can get to my satellite phone inside to at least turn the GPS tracking on. Dad and my brothers are probably already out looking for me since I didn’t report in last night. Of course, my stupid self purposely kept the GPS tracking turned off because I didn’t want any of them to hunt me down and drag me back home. And they would have.

Sucking in a fortifying breath and making sure the cloth is securely tucked around me, I slowly approach the entrance and peek my head around the doorway. Relief relaxes my tense muscles when I don’t see Wild Man. I step outside, my bare feet crunching against the leafy ground, and dart my gaze around, looking for the forest green backpack I came with. Not finding it, I start looking for the glint of my gun.

Just as I see the shine of metal and hope blossoms in my chest, movement out the corner of my eye has me jerking to the side. Dread and trepidation curdles in my gut when the tall form of Wild Man steps into view from the small opening of the bushes.

There’s a piece of cloth tied around his waist. It covers his dick, and from the looks of it, his backside. At least there’s that. I don’t have to stare at the mammoth-sized piece of meat between his legs.