The bloodstained body was limp, easy to reimagine as a mannequin to use on some movie set. Maybe there still was a chance that this was some sick prank?
Colin licked his lips, but the metallic taste left no doubts. Real blood.
When the axeman opened the back door and threw the body onto the seat, something in Colin snapped. His scream didn’t even sound like his own voice, and no logic informed the way he writhed in the bindings. The seatbelt wasn’t for his protection, but yet another way to keep him bound.
He couldn’t breathe.
This couldn’t be happening to him.
The victim’s head was missing a huge chunk of flesh and bone.
The murderer slammed the back door and got behind the wheel. Instead of starting the car, he slapped Colin with his meaty hand so hard the back of his head hit the seat. Colin stopped wailing in an instant, but still let out a muffled sob.
The man huffed as if this was all inconvenient for him, and put his finger against his lips in a universal sign for ‘stay quiet’. With the way his dark eyes pierced through Colin and kept him pinned to the seat, it looked more like a threat. If the body on the backseat was anything to go by, it wasn’t empty one either.
After a moment of tense silence, the man started the motor, and the narrator’s came through the speakers again, his lies making Colin’s entire body itch.
The phone he’d left on the dashboard buzzed, creating a vibration that resonated in his bones and made him sob again. He wouldn’t be home in time for dinner. He might never be home again.
The man grabbed the cell and turned it off, before glaring Colin’s way and snapping it in two as if it were a twig.
There was no such thing as harmlessly switching things up.
He’d taken the wrong way home.
Chapter Two
Colin let out a quiet sob as the grizzly bear of a human being drove his car deeper into the woods. He was no frail thing, but next to this guy, he felt like a twig about to be snapped. He’d done everything in his power to remember the route, but the fact that his captor hadn’t bothered blindfolding him didn’t bode well. Where were the superheroes now? Colin has seen too many movies where problems were solved by people made of steel and energy, but in real life, he needed to be his own savior.
Colin tried to keep a clear head, so that he wouldn’t miss the right moment to strike, because the farther he got down this rabbit hole, the harder it would be to dig himself out.
After endless minutes—Colin’s chaotic brain could no longer be trusted with measuring anything—the car entered a clearing, and the headlights revealed a large log cabin and several smaller structures. There was no one about, and only a single light proved that someone lived in this isolated place. As terrified as Colin was, nothing in sight seemed outright menacing, as if this was just a facade, a front of normal life designed to obscure dozens of graves behind the house.
The bearded man left the car, and then hauled Colin out as well, dragging him along with such ease that the inability to do anything scrambled Colin’s brain.
Were the tall oaks really whispering that he should run if he ever wanted to see his family again? Or was he hallucinating from fear as the man carried him like a bundle of wood for the fireplace? His heels dragged over three wooden steps, and once the axeman entered the roofed porch, he kicked the door open.
A single bulb produced very little light, but it was bright enough to show the large spots of dried blood on a wooden table close to the entrance. A set of hunting knives lay by a sink, ready to use on victims while they were still fresh. Colin couldn’t even assess the rest of the interior, too terrified by what he saw.
“No. No, no, please! I am so sorry. I’ll go and never bother you again, I swear,” he screamed out, backing away the moment something darted close by, tapping against the wooden floor.
The axeman growled, holding Colin close with arms like the roots of an ancient tree, but his grip loosened somewhat when a large gray cat emerged from the shadows and pushed between Colin’s feet with a loud meow. The surreal nature of this moment made Colin look around with more awareness, and now that he knew what to search for, he was spotting cats everywhere around the room.
Oh, God, this explains everything. This guy was hunting to feed his cat pack. This would not be the way for Colin to go. No way in hell!
Something buzzed in the corner where little light reached, and a black cat dashed from there with a loud hiss, knocking something to the floor. The device fell, and a voice came on with a creaking noise, sounding like one of those CB radios for truckers.