.Perfect Fantasy. |H.S.|

Chapter 44. Finders Keepers.

.Natalia.

The wind had picked up leaving a definite chill in the air, right where the futility of my efforts and the hopelessness of my situation was hitting me hard. The longer I was aware that the small pushes did nothing to free my legs, the clearer my head became and the more panicked I felt, because the harder I cried, the louder she laughed.

I felt her hands on my shoulders and my body went rigid with fear, expecting them to move to my neck. Instead, she maneuvered me roughly to the floor and pushed me until the back of my head was aching from the pressure.
Fear coursed through me, making my heart rate jump into overdrive.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I cried, my eyes shifting in a scared motion as I tried not to take my eyes away from her. I had to stifle a gasp at her appearance. "Please..."

My stomach lurched as my brain recalled how different she looked from the last time I'd seen her; her hair was a different color and instead of being in a bun it was hanging loosely by her shoulders, she seemed to have lost weight and Harry's clothes were replacing her unusual attire. "Stop..." Her sunken eyes being the only trait that triggered my subconscious, but otherwise, I couldn't really tell the difference between the woman that attacked me back home, and the woman pressing my body into a fearful ache. "I know some people..." I struggled to keep my voice low and my dread under wraps, trying to find some common ground, "... they can help you, I'm sure they w—"

I found none; she just looked back at me, her eyes wide and psychotic. A full killer mode then with her dried blood splattered face, the sinister shade that was also all over her jeans and Harry's shirt too.
Instead of slowing down, everything seemed to amp up her rage and power.

"If you wanted to help me, you'd have stayed the fuck away from us..." Derangement and a touch of hysteria weaved through her words, a glimmer of amusement appeared in her tempered eyes.
My headache intensified at her creepy tone, my skull feeling like exploding.
She couldn't possibly mean what she was saying.

"You have hopefully learned that I will always be one step ahead of you." She paused a moment to let her words sink in, the ring of her voice prickling my skin. I gulped stupid fears, the flutter of my pulse draining from my heart and gathering like a cold, dead pool in my belly. "Now, this is what we're going to do, you fucking whore. I'm going to take my hands off of you and if you so much as open your fucking mouth I'll force-feed you enough pills to k—" Fear started gurgling up my throat in the form of a scream, but she must've felt it because her hand clamped down on my throat tightly, trapping my scream. "I'm sick and tired of you fucking ruining my plans!"

Her strong fingers squeezed my lips, smashing them against my teeth in a painful way, the force and anger seeping through her limbs as tears of fury filled my eyelids.
The twinge of my skin stopped me from crying, blinking the tears back angrily, I reminded myself that she was in full control of the situation.
We both were, still, to all intents and purposes, at her mercy. But I still wasn't showing her defeat.

She moved fast, her weight pressing my body further on. She ran her nose along my jaw, breathing me in, breathing heavily and she said not a word, just continued to inspect and then stare at me, stony-faced with fury and something that was scaring me up to my bare soul.

"You will regret it," Her expression hardened at once, all hints of amusement disappearing, eyes glittering fiercely as she leaned in; voice roughening with insanity. "Remember my note?"

My face burned with understanding as I looked up at her, the unpleasantness of her words intensifying my confusion, and then dissipating as I recalled with enormous uncertainty, the note she mentioned with such anger—the picture as clear as the day Harry crumpled the sheet of paper in his hand.