Page 110 of Sage Haven

Laughter erupted around me, cutting through the thick air. It was coarse. Harsh. The kind of laughter that wasn’t human. It rattled the walls and reverberated inside my skull until I thought I might shatter from the sound alone. The section of woods—wherever I was—felt suddenly smaller. Closer. Suffocating.

I couldn’t see them all, but I could feel them.

Four. No—five.

Five dark shapes moving around me like vultures circling something long dead.

I wasn’t dead yet.

But they were patient.

“So pretty,” one of them said, his voice dripping with mockery. He was close—so close I could feel his breath against my cheek. It smelled like liquor and cigarettes. “How rude of our little brother not to introduce us sooner.”

“Our duty,” another chimed in, and there was a sickening click as something metallic snapped open. A switchblade? A knife? “We have to vet all his toys.”

The word hit me like a slap.

Toy.

That’s what I was to them. A plaything. A game. A distraction they would tear apart for fun.

“Please…” I whispered. My voice trembled, breaking on the word. “Don’t…”

My legs refused to move. My arms wouldn’t lift. I was locked inside my own skin, screaming silently as I lay helpless beneath their shadows. I tried to twist away, but I had nowhere to go. The ground was cold and unyielding. And so were they.

“God, I love it when they beg,” one murmured with perverse delight.

The man in front of me—his grin widened, splitting his face into something monstrous. He shared a glance with one of the others, something unspoken passing between them. A plan. A decision.

And then, they moved.

Slow. Deliberate.

Their shadows swallowed the thin slivers of light, plunging me deeper into darkness.

Panic surged, wild and feral. It tore through me with brutal force, a scream trapped in my chest. My pulse thundered in my ears, fast and erratic, drowning out every other sound.

Rough hands closed around my ankles. Another gripped my wrists, twisting them painfully. Their fingers were calloused and cruel, leaving behindbruises I couldn’t yet see as they trailed over my skin, touching places they had no right to claim. Fingers slid into my hair, yanking my head back hard enough to snap my vision to the dark sky.

“Shhh,” one of them whispered, mock-gentle, as his thumb traced the line of my jaw. “You’ll like this part.”

I wanted to fight. I wanted to scream and claw and bite. But I couldn’t.

I was helpless.

And they were hungry.

Their laughter turned low, almost reverent.

As if this was sacred to them.

As if tearing me apart was their god-given right.

I was prey.

And they were the hunters.

And in that moment, I knew—there was no one coming to save me.