Page 10 of Hunt Me

Mad Jane’s voice trickles in my ear like a bad smell reminding me how they like to play with their victims, like a predator playing with its prey.

I push my previous thought to the side and I settle on the fact that he probably wanted me all to himself for whatever sick game he wants to play and that is that.

A shiver runs through me as I glance backwards, back to where I know he is fighting. Not wasting another second, I move into a slight jog, making a break for it and putting as much space between me and the psychopaths behind me.

The air is colder through this tunnel thanks to a slight breeze bringing in fresher air. At the end there is a flickering light again.

Please, apocalypse God’s be another drain — maybe one with a perfectly sized opening especially for me and not another bloody fire.

I round the corner and my blood runs cold as I smack into a wet body. My throat closes as putrid flesh flaking from a goblin-like man overwhelms my senses.

I retch.

He sneers, saliva spitting from his cracked lips.

‘Mmmm,’ his eyes flick up and down my body. ‘Pretty, pretty, pretty.’

He steps closer, reaching a mangled hand up to my face.

I jump back making sure to angle myself around the corner.

‘Pretty wanna play?’ He sneers as annoyance spreads across his features at my sudden movement.

‘No thanks,’ my voice is sickly sweet. ‘Kinda busy, maybe another time?’ I bat my eyelashes as I school my features into complete innocence.

His expression is not one of acceptance, and for every step I take backwards, he closes the gap with one step closer.

‘Mmm,’ he licks his lips.

A pale light glints across something metallic in his hand. He watches as I look down at the jagged weapon in his hold. His eyes look back up at me, and he grins wider, then lunges.

My weight shifts to my left, tiptoeing out of his way and narrowly missing his strike.

He grunts in frustration, stumbling to right himself from where he’d missed me as I silently move behind him. My palm grasps the shaft of my bat dangling from my belt, securing my hold on it as I release it from its holster.

I swing at his legs in time as he turns to face me.

He yelps as his kneecap shatters and he hits the concrete floor, his leg not strong enough to hold him upright.

I swing again connecting with his ribs, sending him flying back like some comedy sketch as he lands flat on his back. His head thumps the floor, the noise echoing around us. I bring the bat up one final time. Realisation floods his face as his eyes widen with fear. He shakes his head, mumbling incoherent sounds. Then I bring my bat straight down connecting with his crotch.

Something pops and I really hope it’s his balls.

His screams are a much louder pitch now as they echo around us, bouncing off the tunnel walls.

I laugh.

Splashing steps sound from the tunnel the Skull was in.

I grip my bat, listening, waiting.

Only one set of footsteps.

I release the breath I was holding as the Skull comes sprinting towards me, those white eyes wide and searching. His axes are raised, dripping with fresh blood. If I didn’t know better, I’d mistake this look for concern.

He stops as he sees me standing over the whimpering fool beneath me. Those green eyes take him in then flick up to me as he lowers his axes.

‘What…’ he asks sounding short of breath.