Rebecca sprinted down the road, her breath ragged, legs burning, heart hammering in her chest. The gravel crunched beneath her shoes, the sound of it far too loud in the silence of the night. The trees on either side of the narrow path pressed in like dark sentinels, blocking out the sky. She couldn't stop—if she stopped, if she even slowed, he'd find her.
He'd promised he would.
Her phone had died hours ago. The battery had just given up—of course it did—leaving her with no map, no way to call anyone, nowhere to go. But at least it had given her a head start. She couldn't think too hard about where she was. All that mattered now was putting distance between her and him. The man she had once loved. The man who had made her believe she deserved the fists, the insults, the dark quiet in his eyes when he looked at her.
Rebecca had gotten out. For the first time, she had gotten out.
And now she was running. Running from a killer.
Her ankle twisted beneath her, sending her sprawling into the dirt. Her palms scraped against the rough earth, stinging as they tore open. She bit back a scream, forcing herself to get up, her legs shaking. She pushed herself upright, her head swimming with dizziness. The exhaustion was starting to hit her, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't.
His voice echoed in her mind, deep and cold. "You think you can leave me? You think I won't find you? You don't leave me, Rebecca."
He'd said it before, when the first slap hit her face. And when he cut off all her friends from her life, kept her away from anyone who might have helped. She'd stayed then, too afraid to leave.
But tonight, she had run. And she'd seen the real monster in his eyes.
She stumbled through the woods, the trees too thick for her to see much beyond them. The darkness felt like a suffocating weight around her, pressing in, every crackle of a twig underfoot sounding like a countdown. She heard something in the distance—a low, humming sound, barely audible over the pounding of her blood in her ears.
Then she heard his voice.
It wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. She could feel it, though. Just like before, his words landed on her skin, like a slow burn.
"Run as far as you want, Rebecca," he called, his voice a whisper in the night. "But you'll never outrun me."
Rebecca's legs gave way again, but this time, she couldn't get up. She was too tired. Her hands trembled as she tried to push herself off the ground. The trees around her seemed to twist, their limbs reaching toward her. A figure stood in front of her.
He was smiling.
She could see the knife in his hand.
The moonlight caught the edge, making it glint, cold and sharp.
"Please..." She didn't know if she was begging him or herself.
He crouched down in front of her. "You always were so stupid. I told you, Rebecca. You don't get to leave."
She tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her, yanking her to her feet with terrifying strength. Her head hit the side of a tree as he slammed her into it. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. His hands wrapped around her throat, and her vision faded. But it wasn't darkness. She could still hear him.
"I warned you."