You Belong To Me

Chapter fifteen:

Scott woke up, his bones ached, and his head throbbed, but he didn't feel like vomiting, and he didn't feel like he was being stretched out in a torture chamber. The sheets around him were warm and his head felt heavy. Scott pushed himself up, feeling a little bit better about himself than he had every other day. The first thing he saw after sitting up was the slumped over body of the man, his hair flopped in his face, his back was hunched, and his arms sat limply in his lap. Scott stopped breathing for a moment, his heart raced faster and faster, his eyes were wide open, fully awake now. The man had fallen asleep watching him, no doubt. Scott looked at the door and then at the man again. He could do it.

His whole body seemed to tense up, his chest aching as he considered running. He could make it if he really tried. He took a deep breath and picked up the light, little throw pillow and tossed it at the man. Nothing but a little jolt. Scott took the covers off carefully. Gently folding them back and then swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He felt like his muscles had atrophied so much. He didn't even know if he could remember to run anymore. He pictured running in a dream, feeling the helpless strain in his legs before he had even stood.

Scott placed his feet on the ground, he was barefoot. He didn't know if there were any shoes around, but he could care less, what he needed to do is run, and if he makes it out, he could always fix his feet then. He had been completely delirious last night and was embarrassed even thinking about it. How could he have ever grown comfortable around a people eating murderer. He crept towards the door, nerves seeming to become him. He opened it and it was silent and flawless. He smiled softly to himself at this little victory only for it to be diminished by the sight of dried blood splattered across the door frame from when those two men had been brutally gutted. He walked past it, feeling some shame in his new desensitized personality. If he had seen that last month or whenever it was that he arrived, he surely would have sat down and cried. But now? He walked past it as though it were just a chip in the paint. He made it to the stairs and there was still no one creeping up behind him. He descended the stairs and crept around the corner, almost expecting to see the man standing there, grinning at him. He would be scolded for playing right into his trap and then he'd lose another finger. And this time, he might not get it back.

But there was nobody around the corner, just the empty hallway. One of the lightbulbs on the wall scones had gone out, revealing the dead flies on the tray rest. Scott continued down the hallway, glancing quickly over his shoulder each time. He was heading to the back yard again and then he remembered the other hallway that led to the kitchen. The man could have used it and already be in there waiting for him, so he turned back to go to the front of the house when he heard creaking on the stairs, so he spun back around and started racing to the back door, yanking it open and taking off.

Winter was around the corner; you could feel it in the air. Scott, though, could feel it on the freezing cold hardwood deck as he ran across it. He threw himself over the railing and sailed all the way to the grass below. The ground hit him so hard that his whole back felt the jolt. He groaned but scrambled back to his feet and ran to the woods, hearing the man behind him. How had he caught up so fast? Scott flew through the trees, tears budding in his eyes, feet hurting from the sticks and rocks that he was treading on. He realized the man wasn't right behind him and relief began to flood him. He had escaped, he had made it away from that house, from the man! He slowed down and paused to take a breath and look behind him. 

When he turned around to keep going, there was a loud metallic crack and Scott couldn't realize why for the first few seconds, but then the pain. Oh fuck, the pain. He screamed and looked down. Large metal jaws were clamped halfway up his calf, there was so much blood. So much of it. Scott sobbed; his stomach churned. He couldn't feel his feet anymore, it was just fiery, aching pain.