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Dissociation: Feeling of being disconnected from thoughts, feelings, memories or even sense of identity.

W as I ever truly connected?

The masked man on top of me, holding me down and locking me in a fucking coffin, leaned down, his mouth the only visible thing I could see of the terrifying devil’s face.

“Miss me, Little Voyeur?”

I froze, my body going rigid as the man’s cock pressed painfully into my stomach.

Little Voyeur…

The only man to call me that was my professor. I shook off the familiarity and continued my struggle, my fear making me act out of pure instinct.

There was a murderer out here, and I stupidly wanted to chase a story. Now, I would be the one being chased. Even more likely, I would be the dumbass plastered on tomorrow’s news for the gossip eaters to gorge on for weeks until another dumb fuck followed in my footsteps.

This guy could be faking it .

My professor wouldn’t be in the middle of the woods in a fucking mask…would he?

I thrashed, bucking and fighting and biting.

I used every part of my body available to me, scratching with my nails and losing my breath as I felt the casket rocking back and forth with my struggle.

The man wasn’t fighting me. His earlier decision to strangle me must have been too easy because now he was just trying to block my blows. I screamed over and over and kicked at the lid.

“Stop!” His command was clear.

He leaned forward on my legs and closed in so tight that we were now in complete darkness.

“No! Fuck off,” I shrieked, pounding at his back and ripping off pieces of his hoodie.

I managed to nail him in the balls, used zero time to push myself out of the designer death trap, and took off at a dead run.

The man followed me. His heavy pants and bloody red mask were shining because of the moonlight. I tried not to scream, running and diving into another coffin that was open and hanging over a big ass hole in the ground.

I sunk down as far as I could, trying to steady my breathing and heartbeat.

It was all I could hear over the rain and rumbling thunder.

Thump, thump, thump.

“Help,” I whispered desperately, kicking myself for sneaking out of the house to look for the crime scene.

The rain began to fill the casket, and a small puddle was collected in the red material upholstered onto it.

“Please…” I prayed to whatever god would listen. “I will never search for any other story. I’ll lay down my fucking camera and die a boring, mundane life with Ferdinand. Just…don’t kill me.”

A rumbled laugh came from behind the death box, and I screamed, chancing a peek over the lip of the edge and seeing the deep red masked man standing in front of me.

I jolted upright, trying to jump out of the swinging rollercoaster leading me straight to Satan, my foot getting stuck and my knee bashing into the hinges of the lid.

A weird mechanical noise and a clicking sound started up. The masked man followed the clicking and dove into the death box with me.

I didn’t have time to scream. He covered my body with his, wrenching the lid shut around us, and we fell. The coffin tipped sideways, my body rolling with his like a horrible carnival ride coming off its hinges.

I understood the meaning of six feet deep as we fell. The snapping and tearing of the fabric surrounding the wood was deafening.

God, this really was Satan’s rollercoaster.

The man didn’t let go of me, his body taking most of the brunt of bashing from side to side as we careened down further and further into the bottomless void. A hard smash landed us at the bottom, and my brain and heart felt utterly rattled.

I was shaking like a leaf. I was flipped upside down, molded into the mud that stuck to the wooden box tomb like plaster or glue. The masked stranger unraveled his arms. His mask was slightly jarred, and his hood had fallen off.

I squinted in the dim light, sliding my hand into the thick, dark locks and using my fingertips on my other hand to trace his lips…

I know those lips…

“Professor…” I pushed the mask off his face. He reached forward and began grabbing my arms and legs. “What are you doing to me now?”

“Checking you for injuries. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he said, his voice a whisper on my skin.

He nudged my chin with the tip of his finger until my eyes were focused on his face.

I opened my mouth. This crazy ass man chased me down in a cemetery in a devil mask, caused us to fall in a fucking grave hole, and then asked me if I was okay.

I didn’t know what to say, but a laugh left my lips instead.

Starting low and turning into a full-blown belly roll that had me holding my stomach.

This was ridiculous.

He was ridiculous .

He looked at me with concern. His green eyes lit up with confused amusement.

Finally, he started laughing with me. The holes in the coffin had us soaking wet, covered in mud, with the water dripping in.

We stopped laughing at the same time, the sound tapering off, and I looked at him.

Truly looked at him for what felt like the first time.

He was so beautiful. His black hair, black hoodie, and gray sweatpants were wet with the rain and covered in the same mud I was.

I wiped a smudge mark off his cheek, revealing the beauty underneath.

“You’re...pretty,” I said absently, dropping my hand.

He picked it up, chuckling and rubbing it on his face. “No, you are breathtaking.”

I smiled and blushed. My life had been over-the-top weird ever since this man showed up in my life. So weird and so…thrilling.

He was still holding my hand, and I gasped when he yanked me forward. My body fell into him, and his lips met mine.