Page 4 of Grave Possession (Grave #2)

Chapter Three

Mallory

I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious, but when I finally awaken, it’s a struggle to even open my eyes. My head is pounding and I can’t see straight. Where am I?

The seconds drag on as my vision finally clears and reality comes slamming back into me.

An impatient huff comes from the shadows and I turn too quickly towards it.

My sight hazes again, lights flashing behind my eyelids.

I steady my breathing, waiting for it to pass.

When it does, there fuckface is…sitting in a chair, concealed by the darkness, watching me.

“It’s about time you woke up. I’m gettin’ impatient.

” His voice slithers through the dank atmosphere and I force away a shiver.

I can’t afford to show any weakness. He wants the fight, so I need to lock my emotions in a box and throw away the key.

He’s met with my silence and takes it as an invitation to keep talking.

“How are ya feelin’?” Is he fucking serious?

I feel like I got hit by a dump truck while simultaneously wanting to cut off my skin.

His cum mixed with the dead girl’s blood has dried on my flesh, its noxious combination irritating my skin like nothing I've ever experienced before.

He huffs out his annoyance, rising from the shadows.

“You know, it would be real swell if we could get along during our time together. Don’t make me look for ways to incentivize you.

” He turns, looking toward the dog cage before returning his gaze to mine.

His threat hangs heavy in the air as he stands, making his way across the room and beginning his ascent of the stairs.

“Wait!” I exclaim. The chords in my throat move against each other like sandpaper, making my voice a raspy whisper.

He stalls his incline halfway up, waiting for me to bend to his will.

There’s no use in pleading for my life or asking questions that will go unanswered.

“Water, please.” It’s all I can muster before a coughing fit initiates.

When I regain my composure, he’s gone. My vision is spotty as I push myself up into a sitting position, leaning against the cold stone wall.

He must have removed the handcuffs while I was unconscious, the skin where they were is tender and bruised.

Now, there is a chain around my neck tethering me to the cement wall.

It’s a whole new level of demeaning, being tied up like an animal.

I don’t want to find out what it’s like to be kennelled.

Pain assaults my body as I move. The dull ache in my shoulder intensifies tenfold and my side throbs in agony. Gently laying my head back against the cement, I close my eyes. The cold seeps into my skin and the tension starts to erode.

I try to sift through what I can remember, but it’s murky at best. How long has he been watching me?

Was the hotel our first encounter? He isn’t my Ghost, but he knows about him.

How much has he seen? I can’t be sure, but I know he’s been around long enough to know I like to be chased, that Ghost has been absent, and it’s bothering me.

I fell right into his trap, like a fucking idiot.

I should have known Ghost wouldn’t just leave me like that.

He did it before, but I’d like to think if I was begging and pleading for him, he wouldn’t abandon me.

Will he look for me? Will Nox? Do they even know I’m gone?

Lennox has been so busy with work, there’s been weeks where we barely talk or see each other.

Ghost only shows up at night to check in on me.

His stays are brief and I get the feeling he has somewhere else he should be.

It’s why he doesn’t wake me up, even though I wish he would.

Both Ghost and Nox have been so busy since the murders have kicked up in frequency.

Holy shit.

My eyes snap open.

“No,” I whisper to the empty room.

It can’t be, but it makes so much fucking sense now that I’ve been taken by a psychotic serial killer.

The past month plays like a movie in my mind, eyes falling shut again as the pieces start to fall into place.

Ghost being confused when I mentioned seeing him earlier in the night.

Nox wearing those stupid gloves and long sleeves every time we are together, even though he was in a t-shirt at the precinct.

His stuttering at the creek while calling me little sweetheart.

Fuck, I’ve been so blind. They are the same fucking person.

No wonder he wouldn’t have sex with me, his dick piercing and tattoos would have given him away immediately.

I knew he didn’t have a micro penis…fucking Victoria planting that seed of doubt.

My heart bleeds at the thought of never seeing my best friend again.

If anyone is going to notice I’m missing, it’ll be her.

Did this shit stain smash up Nox’s truck too? It had to have been him. No wonder Nox was so unbothered. He knew my other man wasn’t going to show up, because he is my stalker. It’s why my captor has only ever referenced Lennox, he’s seen my Ghost unmasked.

So many emotions amass within me and I can do nothing to expel them. I’m chained to a wall, like a fucking disobedient dog.

The scuff of boots trail across the floor above me, and I wonder where we are.

We’re in the forest, yes, but we could be minutes or hours from my house, there’s no way to know.

There are no windows in this underground prison, so I can’t even tell if it’s day or night.

The need to get free smothers out all other thoughts but I know I need to approach this rationally.

I could try and strangle him with the chain connecting me to the wall, but what if he doesn’t have the keys to release me on him?

I would die of starvation or dehydration before anyone found me.

Not to mention it takes several minutes of continuous pressure to kill someone, and he’d undoubtedly fight back.

He’ll ultimately want to take me to the Henderson Mill, and that is probably my best shot at freedom.

I’ll know where I am, and if given the smallest window of opportunity to escape, I will take it…

or die trying. I’ll have to play his game until then because every other ou tcome I can think up results in my death, either by his hand or the elements.

The cellar door creaks as the dirty-blonde haired man with terrifying blue eyes heaves it open.

His heavy boots clunk down the rickety sounding stairs as he emerges from the swirling dust in the stale air.

He makes his way to me, extending a bottle of water in my direction.

I raise my arm, hiding any pain I feel behind a fake, blank expression.

Something I mastered while being at the mercy of Dennis’s wrath.

The warning of “ don’t take things from strangers” passes through me, but I ignore it.

I need the strength if I’m going to get out of this alive.

If it’s drugged, maybe the rest will do my body good, and if not, at least I’ll be unconscious while he takes advantage of me.

Which will be better than every other time before this one.

I twist off the cap, very aware that there’s no crack of the tamper-proof seal breaking.

I watch a sinister smile pull at this man’s mouth as I raise the bottle to my lips.

Steeling my nerves, I start guzzling. The liquid flows over my dehydrated tongue, washing away the build up that formed during unconsciousness.

Fire erupts in my esophagus, blazing a path down to my very empty stomach.

My taste buds finally bloom to life as the unmistakable flavour of alcohol makes itself known.

My body heaves as I sputter and spit what was in my mouth all over myself and the bed beneath me.

I drop the bottle when my captor lunges at me, covering my nose and mouth with his palm, while his other arm holds me firmly against him.

“There’ll be none of that,” he snaps in my ear.

“You’ll be grateful for anythin’ I give you.

” I force my body to relax, suppressing the urge to retch and vomit all over the both of us.

I nod, and he removes his hand from my face.

Running his fingers through the vodka that has spilled from my lips and run down my chin to my neck.

“Let’s have a little fun before I have to leave again, darlin’.

” His fingers snake around the strap of my tank top, slipping it from my shoulder.

The injury throbs with each kiss he plants across my skin as he moves to palm my breast. I curl inside myself, my brain screaming to recede into emotional detachment and dissociate.

My eyes fall shut as his hands grope what isn’t theirs to touch.

I tell myself that this is just like all the other times before, except it isn’t.

The stakes are so much higher now. Lennox invades my thoughts, keeping my connection to reality taut.

Without him, I know I’d rather die than live through this shit again.

“Keep those pretty eyes open for me, or I’ll cut off your eyelids,” he whispers into my ear.

His repulsive breath fans across my cheek as he plants a gentle kiss to it.

I slowly open them, my vision blurry with tears I will myself not to spill.

He tugs down the front of my top, flicking my nipples, and sending shocks of pain through my breast. He groans in appreciation when they peak from the stimulation.

His salivating mouth closes around my areola as he sucks and slobbers all over my skin.

The liquor must be running through my veins now because I can barely feel the roughness of his touch as he squeezes and twists my breast.

“I want to fuck these perky tits,” he coos, rising from the bed to stand in front of me. I almost fall over from the absence of his body against mine, and I don’t understand why. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“I haven’t been able to think of anythin’ else since you flashed ‘em at me the other night.” My head lolls, and my body starts to tingle. “Shit, looks like that stuff is workin’ faster than expected.”

What? I snap my head up to look at him and my vision splits.

“W-What? What did you give me?” My voice sounds wrong, too far away. I’m slurring, panic swelling within me.

“Something to keep you quiet. Can’t have your screams ringin’ all through the woods while I’m gone, now can I?” He yanks me up into a sitting position on the bed, and I fall back. I have no control over my body. It’s terrifying.

“Fuck. Next time you’ll make this good for me or I’ll bring you Officer Graves’s liver on a platter.” He places my hands under my breasts, propping them up and pushing them together. He climbs on top of me, the jangle of his undone belt buckle loud in the hollow room.

I can’t scream, can’t cry, can’t move. My racing heartbeat pounds in my ears, the sound warping my panic into a living, breathing monstrosity in my chest. My body isn’t responding. There’s no life in my limbs even as I will them to push, hit, or do fucking anything .

I plead to my own fading consciousness.

But there’s nothing.

No response.

Hopelessness settles itself heavily upon my soul, all I can do is watch. Thankful the concoction has taken away the majority of my ability to feel. The man with no name ruts against my skin, and I pray for the paralysis to lift just enough that I can look away or close my eyes.

It doesn’t and I see .

I watch him take from me.

Use me.

I’ve been unwilling before, many times. But never like this.

I’ve never had my own body wielded like a weapon against me. Used to trap me. Locked inside a prison of my own skin.

Like a gift bestowed upon me from Hypnos himself, shadows infiltrate my sight. Pulling me away from reality where my captor’s twisted sneer of euphoria is the last thing I see before darkness sweeps me away.