The world around me stops as my eyes travel up and down the shocking sight in front of me. Lucas' haunting figure stands in my kitchen, a black object gripped tightly in his hand. The phone still pressed against my ear trembles—"Elena, are you there? I can't hear you!"—and I find that Lucas' appearance is almost scarier than the gun he is holding.
He is a disturbing vision of his former self; skeletal and frail, with hollow cheeks and bloodshot eyes that burn with a glare of insanity. He looks like a madman, an unhinged monster from a nightmare with disheveled hair and tattered clothes. If I had to guess, I'd say he has been sleeping on the streets, fueled only by copious amounts of drugs to keep him going.
His bony hands grip the gun in his hand, and my instincts tell me to scream for help, to run away as fast as I can, but I know that could cause him to snap. I have to stay calm, to buy time, and to figure out just what his intentions are. Everything suddenly feels like a hazy dream; he can't possibly be here right now. He's supposed to be locked up in a jail cell. Yet, he stands here before me, a chilling reminder of my past that I can never seem to escape.
Every muscle in my body tenses, fear coursing through my veins like a mind-numbing explosion—"Elena where did you go?! The party is starting soon and I want to show you the balloons on Facetime!"— A man, who is supposed to be locked behind bars and likely hates me more than any other person on this earth, has broken into my house for the second time now, holding a gun.
After what felt like hours but has only been mere seconds, Lucas speaks quietly, the sound of his voice slicing through my heart like an ice-cold dagger. "Hang up the phone, now. If you even think about yelling for help or hinting that I'm here... you're going to wish you hadn't."
His tone is low and threatening. His finger traces the trigger of the gun as he lifts it up to point it directly at me. Tears well up in my eyes, my mind racing as I come to terms with what is going to happen to me.
Will it hurt?
Will they tell Lily what really happened to me?
Will Blake ever be able to recover from finding my lifeless body?
"Hang up the fucking phone, I'm not going to tell you again," Lucas hisses through gritted teeth, his hand holding the gun beginning to shake from the weight of it.
I attempt to stay grounded in my panic as an idea suddenly pops into my head, and I have zero time to consider if it will work or not. My hands are clammy, and I can feel a cold sweat forming on my forehead. It takes all my strength to keep my voice steady, to mask the sheer terror that's gripping me.
I clear my throat, holding the phone tight to my ear. "Lily, are you still there?"
"I'm here, but you aren't yet! Are you coming soon?"
"Listen to me, this is important," I begin, and I screw my eyes shut tight when I see Lucas growing impatient, his finger grazing over the trigger again. "Can you please find Drew and tell him that my phone battery is dying so I have to go? Make sure to tell him my battery is dying so he isn't worried."
Before waiting for a response, I hang up the phone, letting it fall to the ground a second later. My limbs feel numb and uncontrollable, my heart pounding relentlessly in my chest. I know Lily will be confused by my strange request to find a person she doesn't know, but it was the only thing I could think of to say— the very same words I used to tell Blake on Xbox every time Lucas walked into my room unexpectedly to interrupt our video game sessions.
It's a long shot, but I was afraid that if I even muttered Blake's name into the phone, there would be a bullet in my head before I could even get past the second letter. I hope to god Lily will mention the name to someone at the party, and maybe, just maybe, Blake will take notice and realize that I'm in danger.
"Who the hell is Drew? Are you cheating on Blake like you did on me?" Lucas scoffs, ripping me out of my paralyzing state as he steps closer to me.
I flinch as his body is suddenly within inches of mine, the smell seeping from his pours sending a wave of nausea over me. It's a combination of body odor, liquor, and cigarettes. His eyes from this close look even more terrifying, devoid of any shred of rationality or mercy. But I know I have to stay one step ahead of him, to stay calm and careful if I want any chance to survive this.
"Drew is my cousin. He drove down from New York and was supposed to meet me for lunch," I choke, trying to keep myself composed but failing.
"Supposed to meet you for lunch? Hmmm, remember when you were supposed to be mine forever?" Lucas sneers, stepping closer. I have to hold my breath to keep myself from screaming when I feel the cold metal of his gun graze across my thigh. "But you betrayed me, Lena."
Lucas' next movement goes by in a flash, his grimy hand wrapping around the back of my neck to shove me against him, our lips making contact. I want to vomit in his mouth at the taste of him, stifled cries bursting from my lungs as he forces our lips together. He grips my hair tightly, keeping me pressed against him as he kisses me roughly. Our cheeks stick together from the tears that have fallen down mine, and I flail my arms around, trying to punch his chest and get him off of me.
I can't take it it anymore. I bite his lip, hard. Hard enough to draw blood. Howling in pain, Lucas takes his hand knotted in my hair and rips me back by it, flinging my body away from him. I land on my ass as I fly back, sobbing against the ground, pain radiating throughout my scalp. "Please Lucas, what do you want?"
"I want you to love me!" he shouts, wiping a stream of blood off of his lower lip and towering over me on the ground. "But after months of realizing that you never will, I focused my efforts on coming up with a way to make you pay for what you did. You and that waste of space you call your boyfriend."
This time, when another wave of nausea crashes over me at the mention of Blake, it's all too much and I can't hold the vomit back. I lunge desperately toward the trashcan, only a few feet away from me, and expel my stomach contents into it. The sound of my stifled sobs echoes through the room, my chest heaving in burning agony.
"Lena, Lena, Lena," Lucas taunts, his tongue clicking disapprovingly. "Always so weak."
"Shut up!" I scream through tear-filled eyes, hastily wiping my mouth on a hanging towel from the kitchen cabinet. I shift backward, keeping my distance as Lucas glares down at me, his eyes burning with disgust.
My back hits the couch, and I curl into myself, hugging my knees tightly against my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Despite my mind racing for a way out, deep down, I know there is no simple escape. If I have any chance of surviving this nightmare, I must be careful with every word and action.
"Lucas, please, let's just talk this through," I plead, my voice trembling.
Lucas laughs darkly, cocking the gun to intimidate me. "Talking won't change anything. I don't trust you."
I struggle to keep my fear in check. "But I want to know, how are you here? How could you have escaped? Officer Ramirez called me and told me that they had you in custody. It must've been difficult to pull it all off, I've never heard of anyone escaping and succeeding for so long."
Despite Lucas' complete transformation into a cold-blooded monster, he is still solely driven by narcissism and insecurity. He will never pass up a chance to impress people. And the longer I can keep him talking with his finger off the trigger, the longer I have a chance to survive.
