Fear started to set in once the adrenaline had passed, and it clung to Winnie in a way almost intended to disorientate. She felt weak, numb, tired. Unable to get the image of The Love Wizards lying still out of her head. Her stomach was so hollow it became a welcoming feeling, and she knew she had to eat, and soon. She began to retrace her steps, eyes straining to find light that would surely permeate the edges of the forest, letting her know she was close to freedom and open air.
Instead, there was a small, wooden cabin, almost entirely hidden amongst the trees and bracken. It was similar in style to the one she was meant to be staying in, and looked natural in its setting. A light was on inside, sending a warm glow spilling from the small, dusty windows. The constant reminders to avoid strangers was overridden by the intrinsic desire for water, the thirst clawing at the back of her throat and sending her vision blurry. She would just ask for a cup of water, she decided, and perhaps directions if it wasn’t too much trouble.
The knock vibrated through her hand, the door much thicker than expected. There was shuffling coming from inside, the sound of a deadbolt being slid backwards, and then the door opened. An old woman stood there, back bent from age. She smiled sweetly, and opened the door wider.
“Lost, dear?”
“Yes. I was wondering if perhaps I could have a glass of water?”
“Of course, of course! Come in, I insist.” The woman’s smile grew wider.
“No, that’s really okay,” Winnie mumbled, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but not wishing to offend the poor woman. It must get terribly lonely stuck in the wilderness like this.
“I insist,” she repeated, ushering Winnie in.
The room was large, open plan, and full of a menagerie of random objects, impeccably dusted. Shelves lined the walls that were cluttered with odd bits of jewellery, shoes crusted with mud, and what even looked like a lock of hair. Winnie turned just in time to see the woman slide the deadbolt back into place with that same sweet smile, and the sense of foreboding that came with it was one to be trusted.
“I really can’t stay long.”
“Of course. Just a quick cup of tea.” She walked slowly to the stove, and placed the kettle on the open flame.
“Relax, child. I’m Wendy, what might your name be?”
“Winona.”
The laugh that came out of Wendy’s mouth was more of a cackle, the sound raising the hairs on her arms. She wanted to leave.
“I really must go, there’s someone waiting for me.”
“At the camp, yes? Larry sure knows how to pick them. Sit, sit.” She hustled Winnie into a chair, and handed her an exquisite china teacup and saucer.
“This is a lovely tea set,” Winnie remarked, the sweet smell of herbs drifting in the hot steam and making her salivate.
“It was a wedding gift.”
“Does your husband live here with you?”
“He’s dead, child.” The chilling smile that went with the words more than set her on edge, and WInnie took a quick gulp of tea to hide her trembling hands. It was cloying and sweet, not dissimilar to the utter relaxation that came with the first few tokes on a blunt. She felt her eyes drifting shut, panic long gone. There was a distant sound of china shattering on the floor.
“You have lovely eyes, child. I’ll enjoy taking them.”
Winnie didn’t wake in the soft armchair she had drifted off in. It was still dark, but the constricting pain around her arms and legs was the first sensation that had her jolting upright. Her mind still felt hazy, her movements slower. Whatever was in that tea had done a good job of knocking her out, her throat even dryer than before.
In the half-light, Wendy stood and watched calmly. She appeared to be standing taller than before, and the look on her face was nothing short of menacing. They were in a small room separate from the open plan living area, no shelves lining the walls here. Instead, there was just a lampshade casting the room in a dim, orange light. Next to it, bizarrely, was a jar of hot dogs. Discarded on the floor was a stuffed Pikachu toy, half hidden in the shadows. A thought wandered in of whether it had been owned by the last victim, that thrill of fear clearing some of the fog that had descended over her. Once again, adrenaline flooded her body, sending her on high alert. In Wendy’s wrinkled hands was a...
Oh my god, she’s going to bludgeon me to death with a fucking rolling pin.
She wriggled against the bindings, but it was useless. They were too tight, and although her hands themselves were free, she had no hope of escaping from them with Wendy there. She had thought perhaps if she knocked over that jar of hot dogs the glass could have been used to cut the bindings, but the old woman wouldn’t allow it, that was for certain.
She had to keep Wendy talking while she thought of something else.
“What are you planning to do?”
“Why, to add your lovely eyes to my collection, of course.”
That wasn’t creepy at all.
“How about...we make a deal?”
“A deal? From where I’m standing there’s nothing else you could possibly give me.”
She cast a quick glance at the hot dogs and prayed they were in date.
“We’ll have a competition.”
“A competition.” Wendy said flatly. She clearly wasn’t impressed and advanced.
“Yes! If you win, I’ll bring some others from the camp here. Lots more things to add to your collection. It’s a promise, I swear. You can follow me if you want but I don’t break my promises, ever.”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re telling the truth.” She seemed shocked.
“What if I lose?”
“Then I get to leave, but I have no qualms with you giving chase after a...five minute headstart.”
Wendy thought very carefully, eyes narrowed to slits.
“Tell me what this competition is first, then I’ll agree to your demands...or just kill you.”
“We’ll see who can eat the most hot dogs in thirty seconds.” She smiled in what she hoped was an endearing, persuasive manner.
The wait that followed was unbearable.
“Fine. We’ll see how well you eat them tied up like that.”
Well, shit. She thought she’d been so clever, trying to outsmart Wendy, but hadn’t laid out the rules clearly enough. Her hands were next to useless tied to the arms of the chair, and she was too far away to even reach the jar. She clenched her jaw, trying to stop the tears of frustration from welling up.
Wendy glanced at her watch, and unscrewed the lid. The smell of brine permeated the room.
“The competition will start in ten seconds.” Wendy smirked, clearly enjoying dragging out the whole farce. Then she started eating the hot dogs, still shoving them in her mouth with reckless abandon as if she really did stand a chance of failing.
As a last resort, Winnie lurched forward, sending the chair careening to the floor towards Wendy. She twisted her body, intent on shattering at least one arm of the chair to free a hand. Wendy stepped backwards with a gasp, and then a gurgle.
The chair splintered under the impact, and Winnie managed to wriggle her hands free of the bindings. She sat up, ready to stuff as many of the damn hot dogs into her mouth as possible when she glanced at Wendy. She was totally silent, hands clawing at her throat in reproach. Winnie could only watch as her face slowly turned a shade of pale blue, her writhing and panicked movements stopping.
It had happened in the space of a minute, the gasp the Wendy took being her undoing.
“So that’s why they’re classed as a choking hazard,” Winnie mumbled to herself, needing to break the heavy silence. She was still terrified, still on high alert as she took the rope with her, not sure what to expect from anything anymore. The door to the room was thankfully unlocked, so all it took was to slide back the deadbolt to the front door, and Winnie fled.
