Page 51 of Things Get Dark
The wolf-masked figure stops a few feet away from me, cocking his head to one side as if sizing me up. His dark eyes glint with a fierce intensity, and I can feel the weight of his stare on me like a tangible thing, pressing me down.
The figure doesn’t move, just stands there, looming over me like a predator. His eyes bore into me, and I tremble.
Swallowing hard, I try to think of a way out of this. I need to get out of the cabin, away from this wolf-masked man. But my legs won’t move, I’m frozen in place, too scared to even breathe.
He takes a step forward, slamming the door closed behind him with a bang that makes me jump. The weapon in his hand is clearer now. It’s a knife, gleaming dangerously in the firelight.
My muscles tense, and I know that I need to do something, anything, to defend myself. But I’m not a fighter; I’m not even remotely strong or skilled in combat. I’m just a regular person, caught up in something I don’t understand because curiosity got the better of me.
He steps forward until his breath grazes my face. He smells like the woods, earthy and musky, and my stomach churns with fear…and something else. I tremble.
“You didn’t run fast enough, little hare,” he says, his voice a low growl that suits the wolf mask he wears a little too well. “Now we get to have some fun with our prey.”
“W-w-we?” I breathe out, terrified, butalive.
The wolf-masked man chuckles, the sound sending shivers down my spine, washing away some of my fear. Some. Not all.
His hand reaches out, brushing my cheek with his long calloused fingers, and the cold metal of the knife drags against my skin.
“Oh yes,” he murmurs darkly. “We. You have stumbled upon our little hunting party, my dear. And you, my little hare, are the prize.”
I try to pull away, but his grip tightens on my arm, and the knife presses into my skin.
The man leans in, his hot breath ghosting across my cheek. “Don’t worry,” he whispers. “We’ll take good care of you. And you might even enjoy it…eventually.”
My heart races as the words register in my mind. Enjoy it? How could I possibly enjoy being hunted like an animal by agroup of masked strangers? Panic sets in, and I struggle to break free from the wolf-man’s grip.
But he’s too strong, too skilled, and he chuckles as he restrains me effortlessly. “Don’t fight it, little hare,” he murmurs in my ear. “…Or do. It will only make it more fun for us.”
A cold sweat breaks out all over my body. Coming here, back to the town was a mistake. But I also know that I can’t give up, not yet. I need to find a way out of this, to escape from the clutches of this predator.
As the dark-haired wolf-man pulls me towards a door beside the fireplace that I didn’t notice before now, I wrench my arm free and dart towards the kitchen. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I’m sure I’ll know it when I see it. Something, anything, that can help protect me. He has a knife. Maybe I need one too.
My eyes scan the room frantically, darting from one corner to the other. Then, they land on a heavy cast-iron skillet on the counter. I grab it with both hands, feeling its weight and heft, and turn back towards the wolf-man.
He’s still advancing towards me, an amused grin on his face that’s sexier than it should be, but I don’t back down. Instead, I charge towards him, raising the skillet high above my head. He crashes into me, tackling me painfully to the floor, and when the back of my skull connects with the unyielding wooden floorboards, stars burst before my eyes. The skillet falls from my feeble hands with a clatter, and the wolf-man pins me down, looking furious.
“Now look what you made me do, little hare. I didn’t want to hurt you, but you left me no choice.”
I squirm beneath his weight, trying to free myself, but it’s no use. He’s got me trapped beneath his muscular, hard body. I struggle to catch my breath, but I can’t deny the wetness pooling between my thighs.
Is this…isallof this what Fright Night is about? Or have I stumbled upon something else? Something even darker and more sinister than young girls being thrown in coffins and rituals involving blood sacrifices?
The wolf-man leans down, his teeth grazing my sensitive skin, drawing a whimper from my lips. I’m on fire with my need for him.
“You’re mine now,” he growls, his voice low and menacing. “And I’m going to enjoy every moment of it… At least until the others join us.”
My stomach churns with fear, but at the same time, something deep within me stirs. It's a primal, animalistic urge I’ve never felt before, something that's both terrifying and exciting at the same time.
The wolf-man leans in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “Do you want me to stop?” he murmurs.
I should say yes, I know I should, but the words die in my throat. Instead, I arch my back, pressing myself closer to him, feeling his arousal against my leg. I’m not sure why I’m reacting this way, where this strange mix of fear and desire has come from, but I can’t deny the way my body responds to his touch.
He chuckles darkly, as if he can sense my conflicted emotions. “That’s what I thought,” he whispers, his hand sliding down to cup my breast. “You’re going to love this. Trust me.”
I should be fighting, struggling, trying to get away. But instead, I find myself giving in to the sensations he stirs in my body, the way his touch makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never felt before.
As he explores my body with his hands and mouth, I get lost in the moment, swept up in the sensations crashing over me. It’s only footsteps approaching, the sound of more masked figures entering the cabin, that the realisation that I’m in real trouble hits me like a ton of bricks. I need to get away, to find a way outof here, but there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and the wolf-man has me pinned down with his body.