Wolverton Falls

11. Close Call from Death

EMMETT WAS ON edge – more agitated than usual.

Maggie observed him quietly as he stood in the corner of the stuffy room. Mumbling to himself.

Was he angry that she got seen by someone? By the girl?

The mere thought of the unfamiliar girl brought hope. It was small, but it was there at least. Maggie hoped that the girl had something planned. She had this unexplainable feeling of odd trust towards the girl.

However, the more Maggie thought over her situation, the paranoia and doubts quickly engulfed her. It was harder for her to supress the haunting voices chanting in her head.

Maggie's head lifted when she heard the slow but steady footsteps of Emmett coming towards her.

What shocked her next was his hands yanking away at the ropes around her wrists. Maggie stared at him with confused and frightened eyes. Her body instinctively tensing, waiting for him to play a deceiving trick.

As he untied the ropes around her waist, Maggie felt her body slacken and later fall onto him once again. She had barely any energy left to push herself away but Emmett simply adjusted Maggie so she hung over his shoulder. She groaned lowly at the pain in her stomach lying over his hard shoulder and squirmed around. Emmett fastened his arm around the back of her legs and growled at her, "Quit moving."

She obeyed immediately from the underlying threat in his tone and the rumble in his chest. Emmett moved quickly out the door and through the ghostly hallway.

Opening a random door, he dropped Maggie carelessly onto a foam mattress inside the small, dark room. He peered outside the door to his left, pausing, before slamming it shut.

Unnerved by the sudden change of rooms, Maggie looked around trying to process her surroundings.

Only old furniture and threadbare carpet portrayed some normalcy; however, an alignment of old, faded photographs caught her eye.

Leaning closer to the peeling wall, Maggie was utterly horrified to discover they were pictures of different, terrified looking women. Thirteen photographs captured a uniquely different woman, each tied and gagged with tears streaming down their faces.

Their eyes were haunting; reflecting their trauma and suffering. The images branded themselves in Maggie's mind.

She now knew exactly how she going to die.

Emmett simply smiled with pride, "Lovely, aren't they?"

Maggie shivered and crawled away from him, her slim arms curling around her bent legs in a fruitless attempt to protect herself from the sick glint lingering in his green eyes.

"I acquired many girls, all different but never become the one I truly wanted," With his hands clasped behind him, Emmett observed the photos with a nostalgic expression. "I desired a girl that I'd knew would instantly be right for me," Emmett turned to face Maggie.

"Then I found you," He adorned a wide grin as he moved to crouch near her. "Now that I have you," His arm reached up and long fingers slowly wrapped around Maggie's neck. Taking in a deep, strangled breath, Maggie tugged at his hand, eyes silently begging him to stop.

Only, his hand gripped tighter, blocking off her airways making her body jerk and mouth gape open trying to get a lungful of precious air.

"I can't wait to get started."

He let go suddenly, making her scamper away from him like a frightened animal. Maggie coughed violently, her lungs burning.

"W-Why?" She managed to stutter. She needed to get away from this man and his outbursts of violent and sadistic behaviour. He enjoyed the emotional and physical pain he inflicted on her, liked seeing the evident fear growing second by second. Hearing the constant whimpers unwillingly spill from her lips, got him off.