Surrender

His lips twisted into a sick grin as his gaze swept over her. He leaned back just enough to allow her a sliver of space, but the knife remained firm against her neck. “I’ll give you a choice.” His voice dripped with malice. “I can break your arm. Break your leg. Or…” He dragged out the last word, letting it hang in the air. “Maybe I’ll shoot off one of your fingers. You pick.” Victoria stared at him, her body trembling as the blade forced all her attention. The nausea rising in her throat threatened to choke her. His words echoed, distant and surreal, as if she were trapped in some waking nightmare. He leaned closer, his breath foul with the stench of tobacco and something rancid. “I said, pick one,” he hissed, the knife biting a fraction deeper into her skin. Her voice came from a place she didn’t recognize, hollow and broken. “I can’t…” A guttural growl rumbled from his chest, low and menacing. “Then I’ll do all three. And maybe I’ll start over—see which kneecap you’d like me to take next.” The blade pressed harder, a silent promise of the pain to come. “No,” she whimpered, her voice raw with terror. “Please…please don’t. I’ll do anything. Just don’t kill me. Please…” A loud POP shattered the tense silence, and Victoria flinched, bracing for the searing agony she was certain would follow. But it didn’t come. Her eyes darted to the source of the noise—the knife now embedded in the headboard beside her head, its handle vibrating from the impact. “Changed my mind,” he muttered, pulling a pistol from his waistband with deliberate slowness. He studied her with cold amusement. “All three it is. Let’s start with your leg.” He slid back and off the bed, pulling her by the foot with him. With her legs dangling, he lifted one boot and took aim at her left knee. “MY FINGER!” The words tore from her throat, a raw, desperate scream. Her body convulsed as sobs wracked her frame. “I choose my finger!” His grin widened, grotesque and predatory. “The finger, huh?” He backed off slightly, giving her just enough room to sit. “Good girl. Now sit up and hold out your hand.” Victoria’s movements were sluggish, her limbs trembling uncontrollably as she pushed herself upright. She extended her shaking hand, palm up, her eyes wide with terror. “Are you going to kill me?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The man’s lips twisted into a cruel sneer. “Ain’t decided yet. If I let you live, you’ll blab to everyone.” “I won’t! I swear I won’t tell anyone!” Victoria’s head shook so violently it sent sharp, stabbing pain through her temples. He gripped her right hand, forcing it steady as he aligned the barrel of his massive gun over her pointer finger’s knuckle. “Here’s how it’s gonna go. If I choose to let you live, you ain’t telling nobody. No cops, no security, no friends. You also ain’t leaving the area. And if you so much as breathe a word about tonight—or try to run—I’ll start picking off your church pals one by one.” Victoria’s heart stopped. Was he going to let her live? Her church pals? The man’s face moved closer, his breath hot and putrid against her cheek. “I’ve already shown you I can get to you anywhere. I can get to them too. Maybe I’ll start with your little friend Britney. Or her daddy, Blaine. How’d that feel, huh?” Her wide, tear-filled eyes stayed glued to the gun, its cold metal promising violence. Her mind screamed for escape, but her body remained frozen, trembling under his grip. His voice dropped to a low, mocking growl. “Ready?” Victoria’s eyes squeezed shut. “I SAID ARE YOU READY!” “Y…yes.” A deafening thud followed. Pain exploded through her midsection as the air rushed from her lungs. Her body curled instinctively, collapsing in on itself. She screamed, though the sound was ragged and weak, panic flooding every nerve. He shot me! The thought screamed through her mind as she struggled to inhale. Each attempt to draw breath only sent fresh agony ripping through her torso. Her chest heaved, her body convulsing in a futile effort to cough. When her eyes cracked open, she didn’t see blood. Instead, she saw him standing there, casually rubbing the fist of his left hand, the gun nowhere to be seen. He had punched her. Her body writhed in agony on the bed and she fought to move air into her lungs. “Surprise!” he said with a twisted grin, seizing her hair and yanking her head back. He leaned in, his dark eyes boring into hers. “I’ve made my decision.” A hand flew to her throat, and he slid her backward the length of the bed and against the headboard with brutal force. “You die.” Victoria thrashed, her limbs flailing in desperation. Her legs kicked wildly against the bed as her back arched, trying to dislodge his crushing grip. Her fists pounded against his iron-like arms, but he was immovable, his strength overwhelming. With terrifying ease, he slid her up and over the headboard until her legs dangled, her weight fully supported by his vice-like hands around her neck. No sound came from her open mouth as she tried to scream. Her lungs burned, screaming for air that wouldn’t come. Black spots danced in her vision, quickly spreading until all she could see was darkness. Her struggles weakened, her body going limp as the life drained away. Then, nothing. Silence. Darkness consumed her.