Page 73 of Massacre Monday

He’s closer than ever when I near the velvety curtains. Instead of turning in the direction I suspected, the terminal of this one splits into two directions, but a tall archway and a set of closed double doors blocks the left side.

Frantic, I grab the golden handles with shaky hands and pull, grunting in frustration as I see the wolf approaching in my periphery. It won’t budge!

“Little red riding hood, even bad wolves can be good…”

Bracing myself for an impact, he reaches for me, but I grip his wrists to prevent him from grabbing around my waist. Slipping between his legs, I flip him over me, and he rolls expertly.Fuck! My dad taught him too well.

He crawls closer, his throat erupting in a low growl that vibrates through my body. I spring to a stand and race down the hall in the opposite direction. While I check out his position overmy shoulder, my foot catches on the corner of the rug, and the ground surges up to meet me.

I catch myself on all fours as he continues to clamber behind me. Sobs rip from my lungs as I attempt to rise, but he grasps my calf with a tight squeeze, pulling my ankle toward him. My fingers rake through the plush carpet, looking for anything I can grab onto.

He stands and drags me, but as we pass the console table, I clutch the wooden leg and turn it over. In doing so, he releases me, and I kick my shoes into his face, then tear off down the other hall, the one not blocked by my predator.

When I reach the turn of this one, there’s only a single pathway I can take on my left. A solid door at the end holds a glowing exit sign above it. My chest expands with relief. I’m almost free.

Could I hurt him? Yes. I really could. So why don’t I?

With a yell of victory, I throw open the door, then sprint down the concrete stairs to the floor below. Two paths greet me on the landing: one to outside and another to the party. I choose the one through the crowds, hoping that being around everyone else will save me. Perhaps I can even find Amelia and get the fuck out of here before Ryan sees.

While deciding, the door above me flings open, and the howling echo haunts my brain. “Awoooo!” he calls out, his steps shuffling down the stairs.

I bust through into the kitchen, where severalThetasare taking shots. Slapping some away, I scream, “Help me! He’s chasing me!”

“Good for him,” some guy in a devil’s mask says with sarcasm, and the rest laugh riotously, then chug their drinks, sloshing alcohol all over the slick floor as they pour refills.

These guys are not going to offer me any assistance. That much is obvious.

I rush through the swinging door just as Ryan emerges from the back stairs. A line of women stands waiting for the bathroom just outside, and I wildly search for Amelia, but I don’t recognize anyone. “Help! There’s someone chasing me!”

“Okay. What do you want me to do about it?” one of the tall women deadpans, and the others shift uncomfortably, as if I just forced them to take a pop quiz in the middle of a party.

“Enjoy it, girl. It’sRed Night.”

“Yeah…like you can sayno.”

The girls chuckle and huff out sighs like I’m the stupidest woman alive. And maybe I am for even thinking this predator would stop his hunt. What if I don’t want him to?

No, Pippi. You’re letting him drive you mad.

When he explodes through the kitchen door, his mask lowers as he pants out a breath. “There’s my girl!”

“Oh my. You can chase me around!” another woman says as I take a few slow steps backward.

“Or me. She seems like a prude… ProbablyIotawho sneaked in.”

Doom cuts me like a knife to my back.

No one will save me.

I’m truly on my own.

A psychotic laugh bubbles up from my belly. Isn’t that what I always wanted? To beindependentand take care of myself?

Shoving my shoulders through the students gathered near a riveting game of flip cup, I dart to the entryway, then divert through the patio. Maybe I can break into Amelia’s car. The valets leave the keys with it, right?

I sprint past the people still fucking in and around the pool, slipping through the iron gate and dashing into the back fields toward the garages. An acre of lawn and trees lies between me and a possible escape.

Ryan seems to have lost me. It’s quiet. Pitch black out here. Occasionally, I stumble upon a large oak or a maple, but I keep pressing on, my strides slower as I attempt to catch a breath.