The door creaked shut again, and the innocent was gone. My fear was replaced with the gnawing ache of despair. His smug face appeared by the door, and I inched back as far as I could go. He shook his head as if I were the one being murderous.
"Kathryn," he spoke gently. Tauntingly, he took a step forward. "Why look so sad? Life should be celebrated."
Celebrated. The word bounced around my head like a tennis ball. He was telling me to enjoy this moment? Anger burned through my chest like a wild fire, and the stars cleared from my vision. Before I knew what was happening, I had removed myself from the soft, cream-colored carpet and had placed my hands accusingly on his repulsing chest.
He wasn't surprised. He had wanted this reaction and had been waiting for it like a hungry wolf. He grabbed my wrists and used my weakness to pull me into him. His eyes glinted dangerously behind his thick, long eyelashes. He was amused that I would attempt such a failing maneuver.
"Dare you threaten me, Kathryn?" he mocked.
When I didn't answer, his expression turned dark, and he whirled me around. I stumbled unsteadily against his frame, and he caught my hands from behind. His head appeared next to mine, and he sniffed my long, wavy black hair. I had put my favorite strawberry shampoo in this morning, hoping it would cheer me up.
It had worked until he got home.
YOU ARE READING
Peter, Peter
HorrorWarning: If you have nightmares after reading about cannibals, this is probably not the best book for you. Having said that, I hope you enjoy the story!
