Hazel's heart pounded as the car sped through the darkened streets, the city lights flickering past the windows. She tried to remain as still as possible, her breath shallow and quiet. After what felt like an eternity, the car slowed, and she heard the driver humming softly to himself. The familiar voice sent a chill down her spine.
Christoper.
Hazel's mind raced. What were the chances she'd end up in his car? As the vehicle turned onto a winding road leading out of the city, she realized she had no choice but to reveal herself before they were too far gone.
Slowly, she lifted her head, hoping to catch him unaware. "Christoper," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Christoper jerked the steering wheel slightly, startled. "What the hell? Hazel? What are you doing here?" he demanded, glancing in the rearview mirror with a mix of shock and anger.
"I didn't have a choice," Hazel replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "There was a man... he tried to—"
"I don't care about your excuses," Christoper snapped, cutting her off. "Get out of my car."
"I'm not safe out there. Please, just let me stay until we reach somewhere I can find help," Hazel pleaded, her eyes wide with fear.
Christoper sighed, clearly frustrated. "Fine. But don't think this changes anything between us."
They drove in silence for what felt like hours, the tension in the car thickening with each passing mile. Hazel could see the cityscape fading away, replaced by dense forests and the occasional flickering light of a distant farmhouse.
"Where are we going?" she finally asked, breaking the uneasy silence.
"Away from you," Christoper retorted. "I have business to attend to in the forest area. You can find your own way back."
Hazel clenched her fists, biting back a retort. She needed to stay calm, to think clearly. "Fine," she muttered, looking out the window as the trees closed in around them.
Eventually, they arrived at a secluded cabin nestled deep in the woods. Christoper parked the car and got out, slamming the door behind him. Hazel hesitated before following, her steps tentative on the gravel path leading to the cabin.
Christoper unlocked the door and turned to face her. "You can stay here tonight, but you leave first thing in the morning. Got it?"
Hazel nodded, too exhausted to argue. She followed him inside, the cabin's interior dimly lit by a single lantern on the table. The space was rustic but comfortable, with a large fireplace dominating one wall.
"I don't have a spare room," Christoper said gruffly. "You can sleep on the couch."
"Thanks," Hazel replied softly, sitting down and rubbing her aching feet.
Christoper watched her for a moment before turning away, heading to a door that presumably led to his bedroom. "Don't try anything stupid, Hazel," he warned before disappearing into the room.
Hazel leaned back on the couch, exhaustion washing over her. She closed her eyes, trying to process the whirlwind of events that had brought her here. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, a loud crash jolted her awake.
She sat up, her heart racing. "What was that?" she whispered to herself, glancing around the darkened cabin. Another crash, this time closer, echoed through the still night. Hazel's breath caught in her throat as the door to Christoper's room burst open.
He stormed out, his face pale and eyes wide with alarm. "Get up, Hazel. Now," he ordered, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet.
"What's happening?" she asked, panic rising in her chest.
"There's no time to explain," Christoper replied urgently. "We need to get out of here."
They rushed out of the cabin, the night air chilling Hazel to the bone. As they ran towards the car, Hazel glanced back and saw shadows moving among the trees, indistinct and menacing.
"Who are they?" she shouted over the sound of their pounding footsteps.
"No time to explain," Christoper repeated, his grip on her arm tightening. They reached the car, and he shoved her inside before jumping in himself and starting the engine.
As they sped away from the cabin, Hazel's mind raced with questions. Who were those shadowy figures? Why was Christoper so scared? And most importantly, what was she getting herself into?
Christoper's face was set in grim determination, his eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror.