A Phobia Of Hunter

A while ago, before the bloodshed, I would have found the blood on his lips hot. 

But now, I can’t imagine I fell in love with a beast. Or perhaps he played out his actions so well his barbaric side slipped under his coat. 

Before this day, I loved everything about him—how he often switched tones, imitating baby voices in our voice calls and notes. Even trying to mimic my voice at times. 

He’s the same man who made cute as well as sassy expressions. And got accustomed to texting me emojis and funny gifs. Not to forget how he woke me up by sending repeated texts just so my phone would keep dinging. 

Now that man seems like a distant memory; replaced by this cold, unfeeling stranger.

I blink away from the rearview mirror and stare into the darkness ahead of me, bracing myself for the words my mind wills me to say before looking at Hunter’s breathtaking features.

Gone are the days when I badly wanted to run my fingers through his hair—when I wished to see what his right eye looked like. 

He'd told me the patch was due to the eye’s sensitivity and proneness to infections. He also mentioned how he’d battled several infections as a child by merely touching the eye or being exposed to sunlight.

He clarified that there was no remedy other than covering the eye. Even made fun of himself often.

He was such a big comfort and support to me. But everything has just been thrown into the North Sea. Now I’m staring at the same face, yet it doesn’t seem familiar. The bright expressions are gone. All I see is a blank sheet in the form of a face. 

“Hunter, look at me,” I begin calmly, hoping my words will reach him through a positive route. “Do you remember the day you got me this bracelet?” I lift my wrist, and Hunter glances at the bracelet. “It was the first time you confessed that you loved me, over a three-hour phone call. Can I see even just a glimpse of that Hunter?”

The man lets a small smile tug at his lips, but the smile doesn’t reach his eye. 

He locks his gaze with me just before the smile fades as quickly as it appears. Then, he clears his throat and places his hands on the steering wheel, looking into the darkness ahead of us, leaving me unsettled and waiting for his response. 

“Nice try,” he mutters as he starts the van. “You know what, my foot’s getting excited. And I bet you do not want that when it’s on the accelerator.” He switches the headlights on and demands through clenched teeth, “Report the incident now.”

My heart sinks, horror creeping over my face when I see the young woman lying in a fetal position across the road ahead. 

“Don’t do this, Hunter, please,” I plead. My hands are shaking as I hold the phone. I don’t think I can even precisely tap anything on it now. 

And the tension only gets worse when the distant wails of sirens drift in while growing louder; when Hunter bangs his fist on the steering and snarls.

“Darn it!” 

He quickly puts on gloves and snatches the phone from me before spraying it with vinegar and wiping it clean. Then he speeds up.

“Hunter, no!” I scream. I can hear my shriek reverberating in my throbbing head; the undeniable terror blending with my voice. 

He’s going to crush the poor girl! Because of me! 

My hands battle with his for the phone as I say with urgency, “Hunter, I’m ringing them up now. I really am!”

But Hunter hisses, “Too late.”

The tires screech and my eyes widen on the road, just before my upper body veers to the right. 

The side of my head hits against the window, which Hunter rolls down a second after, letting in cold air that hits me on the face as I catch him tossing the phone out past my face.

I glance back immediately to find that he swerved to avoid the girl. Relief washes through me at that, but I’m still shitting bricks.

My heart’s racing just as much as he’s speeding through the dark, from time to time banging on the wheel. 

Gasping, breathing, I ask, “Where are you taking me?” 

“Our home,” Hunter says, his tone matter-of-fact. 

I don’t recall him and I discussing a house. And even if we did, I think it’s past the time I’d agree to such things. 

“I’m going nowhere with you, Hunter! Drop me here.”

Hunter gives out a low and short laugh. “Oh, you are.” No, I’m not. “Because we’re getting married.” 

Oh, shit!

No. I’m not marrying him. No fucking way! Does he even realize what he’s saying? And it’s just been the same thing over again—the fact that one moment he ignores me and the next he’s suddenly obsessed with me. 

Fuck. That isn’t even the issue right now. He has fucking killed people! Who knows what shit he did before or going to do. I can’t risk finding out.

I’m thinking of doing something other than sitting here and letting him drive me to crap before Hunter bellows, “I might do worse than kill someone the next time you defy me like that again!”

I shriek back at the bile in his voice, even though the breeze nearly swallowed his words. If he thinks killing isn’t the height of cruelty then he’s actually trashier than garbage.

Gosh, why did I even waste so many months on this douchebag? It hurts because I loved the guy when he might have envisioned how many pieces my heart would make.

My eyes sting at the thought, blinking several times to force back tears that trickle down anyway.

“You think there’s something worse than taking lives?” I ask, shaking my head. My fingers rub against each other while I stare anxiously at the blur of trees speeding past the window. 

“Try me.”

Wild thoughts go through my mind—how to escape Hunter. I had tried before and failed. But now I have to devise a better plan; one that will catch him off guard. 

When I can’t think of something, I go with my gut. And that is lunging at the steering wheel and engaging in a fierce struggle for control.

I don’t care how I do it or what consequences will ensue. All I know is that I have to stop the van. 

If I can get it to halt, I’ll dash into the woods where the dense trees might offer me a chance at freedom, hopefully making it hard for Hunter to find me. 

His grip tightens on the wheel as he fights to keep the vehicle steady. But my resolve grants me unexpected strength. 

Tearing my fingers off the wheel is as hard as cracking an infant’s fist. And it serves me well.

The van swerves violently before careening off the road and slamming into a tree with a jarring thud. Then I act fast; push the door open and sprint into the dark. 

Racing through the wintry woods is hard, especially since I’m gasping for breath, each air I breathe stinging my dry throat; painful and difficult.

Snow crunching beneath each hurried stride, I dash between the towering trees. Their skeletal branches stretching above would look more aesthetic with the snow in a picture. Yet, that’s not the kind of picture I’m seeing in my head even though I’m literally looking at a blurred form.

What’s in my head is a nice breakfast, a warm bath, and a shoulder to lean on. But that… that’s not something made for Heidi. 

My name’s never on the list. Never.

I don’t want these deaths, nor these images flashing in my head from time to time. Blood. Open chests. Pale skin. Blue lips. More blood. And the more they come, the more exhausted I get.

My body screams for rest. My muscles are burning, and my skin itches from the icy wind and exertion. But fear is my motivation and stopping is not an option because I know that my life is at risk. 

I find myself toppling over snow, yet I scramble to my feet and keep running with the resolve that nothing will stop me. Not when heavy footsteps are thudding behind me, drawing close.

Someone’s following me. I know. And I don’t need to look back to see who it is. Who else would it be besides Hunter? It can only be the motherfucker!

The arsehole won’t catch me again. I swear on my life. This time, I’m running away from him for good, even if I have to hide my whole life. I’ll live in caves and lie with lions if it means I won’t marry Hunter—that is the least I can do for myself. 

However, before I realize what’s going on, I’m stumbling and crashing down a steep slope. 

Small rocks batter my body, eliciting grunts from me as pain radiates through me. It scrapes my skin, my bones cramping, and my head spinning until I feel myself plunge into a cold stream with a splash. 

The coarse water hits me like a wall of ice and knocks the breath from my lungs. Flailing and gasping for breath, the rapids seize me before they drag me downstream despite my effort. 

When I have no more strength left to resist the strong current, my body goes limp as the water carries me away. I feel like it could drag my consciousness too. 

And it does.

Darkness is all I now see. But I know I’m lying on something even if I can’t feel my bones; can’t move either. 

There’s pain; ripples of slight, lingering aches going on in my heart, even getting my livers and intestines in the party. 

I love where I am at the moment, and wish I could remain in it. Just take the pain away, or leave it, I don’t mind as long as there’s none in my head. And as long as Hunter’s shadow isn’t lurking. 

Cold sooner slaps my skin and seeps through it. Yet, I’m trying as hard as I can not to feel uncomfortable. Not to believe that I don’t like this place. Not to start wishing to leave. Not to cry for light or warmth. Because there’s none out there. 

The world we see is a glamor for deceit and evilness. There’s no love and no joy. Just insanity. Pure madness. And Hunter… Hunter’s a psychopath. 

I take a deep breath before closing my eyes to fade out these thoughts. However, when I open them again, I feel warm and cold at the same time. And I find the view in front of me distorted—just the blurry face of a man who could be Hunter. 

My heart skips a beat.