May's breath was ragged, each inhale filled with the sharp, desperate sting of panic. Her mind raced, but her body refused to obey her, pinned under Will's relentless grip. He held her firmly, as if he knew she had no fight left in her. Her limbs felt like lead, her head spinning with exhaustion, terror, and a crushing sense of helplessness.
The cold, damp pavement beneath her palms seemed a world away from the warmth she had longed for, the safety she thought she could still find. But no matter how much she tried to resist, the reality of her situation began to settle in. Will was here. He wasn't going anywhere. He had always been there, lurking, waiting for this moment, and now he had her.
She turned her head, trying to glance around for any possible escape, but the night felt empty, as if the world had abandoned her. The streetlights cast their weak, flickering glow, but there was no one else around—no help, no savior. Only the two of them in this cruel, deserted place.
Will's grip tightened on her wrist, pulling her upright with ease, his eyes locked onto hers. There was no anger in his gaze—no frustration, no sign of the twisted things she had hoped for, no vulnerability. He was calm, too calm, and that was worse than any of his previous rage. This was the calm before the storm.
"You don't need to be afraid anymore, May," he said softly, almost lovingly, as if comforting a child who had been wronged. "I'm here to take care of you. We'll be happy, you and me."
She recoiled, every fiber of her body screaming for freedom. But it was futile. His hands were like chains. Her limbs felt weak, as if they had lost all their strength to fight back.
"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible, cracking under the weight of the emotion building inside her. "Please… I just want to go. Please."
His expression softened, his lips curving into that haunting smile. "You don't understand, May. I've always been here. I've always been waiting for you to realize it. To understand that you and I are the same. I will never leave you. No matter how much you fight me, no matter what you do, I will always be here, beside you."
Tears spilled down her face, her vision blurring as fear gripped her chest like a vice. How had it come to this? How had her life spiraled into this nightmare? She had tried everything—telling him to leave, running, begging for help. Nothing worked.
She had nothing left.
His hand cupped her cheek, his fingers cold against her skin. "I'll take care of you, May. I'll protect you. I won't let anyone hurt you. You'll see, one day, this will all make sense to you."
The darkness of his words echoed in her ears. It was madness. His protection? His love? It was all a lie, twisted into something sick and perverse. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to run, but she had no strength left.
Her mind screamed at her to fight. There had to be a way out. There had to be something—anything—that could stop him. But with every passing moment, the light inside her dimmed just a little more, drowned by the cold, suffocating reality that Will wasn't going to let her go.
But then, something inside her sparked—a faint ember of defiance that refused to be snuffed out. No matter how hopeless everything seemed, she wasn't ready to let him win.
May swallowed the lump in her throat and looked up at him. Her voice came out ragged but filled with resolve. "I will never be yours," she said, each word a statement of defiance, each syllable a small, fragile rebellion against the darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.
Will's smile faltered, just for a second. The slightest flicker of something crossed his eyes—anger, perhaps, or disappointment—but it was gone before she could truly process it. He was still holding her, still keeping her trapped, but there was a shift, a change in his demeanor.
"You think you have a choice?" he whispered, leaning closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You don't. You never did. You were always meant to be with me."
She clenched her fists, the only part of her body she could still move. Her legs felt like concrete, her body trembling, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
"No," she said again, this time with more force. "I'm not yours. You don't own me."
Will's grip tightened momentarily, and a flicker of madness gleamed in his eyes. But then, as quickly as it appeared, he relaxed. He took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides. His smile returned, cold and unsettling.
"Then we'll do this the hard way," he said, his voice low, almost sad. "But you'll see, May. In time, you'll understand. And when that time comes, I'll be waiting."
With those words hanging in the air, he turned and began walking away, his figure disappearing into the darkness, his footsteps echoing in the silent night. May stood there, her heart racing, her legs still unsteady beneath her, barely able to comprehend what had just happened.
Had he really just let her go?
She glanced around, disoriented, still processing the shock of the encounter. He was gone—vanished into the night. The air felt colder than ever, and her legs finally gave out from underneath her. She collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably.
But even though Will had left, the terror still clung to her. The darkness still wrapped itself around her.
Had he really left? Was she free?
Or was this just another game to him, a twisted game she couldn't escape from?
Her phone buzzed again.
"You're not safe, May. I'll be waiting. You can't run forever."
The message sent a fresh wave of dread crashing over her, and the hope that had briefly flared within her was extinguished once again.
He was always going to be there. Always waiting.
And no matter where she went, or how hard she tried to escape, May knew the truth:
There would never be an escape from Will Moore.