Page 125 of Sins of the Hidden

"Anyone see you go in?"

"I don't—I don't know." My vision blurred with tears as I scanned the dark bathroom, shadows seeming to move and shift at the corners of my vision, making me doubt my own senses.

"Weapons?"

"N-No." A low growl came through the phone, raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck.

"Find something."

I scrambled through the shower caddy, the plastic bottles clattering too loudly in the enclosed space, the sound magnified by fear and adrenaline. A shampoo bottle toppled over the edge, hitting the tile floor with a thunderous crack that seemed to echo forever, the plastic splitting and spilling its contents across the floor in a slick puddle that smelled artificially of coconut. I froze, heart in my throat, breath caught painfully in my chest.

Suddenly, silence from outside. The footsteps stopped.

The first crack hit the bathroom door. Then another. Splintering wood. The sound reverberated through my body, each impact sending a jolt of terror through my system, adrenaline spiking my blood.

"Oakley?"V's voice was laced with urgency.

The wood cracked again, louder, vibrating through my bones. Oh my God. They’re breaking down the door.

The call flickered, his voice cutting in and out like a bad radio signal. "V-V? Can you hear?—"

The line went dead.

No, no, no.

The door exploded inward, air whooshing past as wood splinters sprayed across the bathroom floor like shrapnel. Through the gap in the shower curtain, I saw only a tall, masked silhouette.

They stood impossibly still, head tilted, listening. Waiting. As if savoring my fear. The way they just stood there made my skin crawl, goosebumps rising on my arms as sweat trickled cold between my shoulder blades.

Their head turned slowly, scanning the bathroom. Eyes lingering on cabinets, corners. The silence stretched, broken only by my shuddering breath behind the curtain, loud as thunder to my own ears.

My phone clattered against the bottom of the tub, drawing their attention to me.

"V!" I screamed his name knowing he wouldn't reach me.

The shower curtain tore away from its rings as they ripped it aside, plastic hooks scattering across the bathroom floor. I pressed against the back wall of the tub, nowhere left to retreat, cold porcelain against my spine.

A fist twisted in the front of my shirt, hauling me forward before slamming me back against the tub wall. My skull cracked against tile, stars exploding behind my eyelids. Their other hand found my throat, fingers digging into my skin. Fire filled my lungs, each breath a desperate, impossible gasp.

I clawed at their wrist, but their grip only tightened. Spots bloomed across my vision as my jaw clenched, teeth grinding together with an audible scrape that vibrated through my skull.My legs began to twitch, small spasms working their way up from my calves to my thighs—my body fighting even as my mind began to dim.

The torn curtain wrapped around my flailing arms like a shroud, wet plastic clinging to my skin. I couldn't get leverage in the slick tub, feet sliding uselessly against the porcelain as I tried to push myself up.

My thoughts scattered like birds, impossible to catch, fragments of memory and fear and desperate prayer colliding without coherence. Colors flickered at the edges of my vision—green, purple, black—and then nothing. My ears roared, a waterfall that drowned thought. For a split second, I forgot where I was, forgot who I was.

The need for oxygen overwhelmed everything else, a desperate instinct that reduced me to pure animalistic survival.

They leaned over the edge of the tub, using their weight to press down on my throat. I bucked against them, my shoulder slamming into the faucet. Water burst on, shocking cold against my neck and chest. The sudden spray made them flinch back just enough for me to gulp a breath.

My hand shot out, fingers scrambling along the shower caddy until something sharp bit into my palm.

A razor.

I swung blindly upward. The blade caught them across the forearm as they reached for me again, slicing through fabric and flesh. They jerked back with a hiss, dark stains spreading across their sleeve.

But they didn't retreat. They lunged forward, both hands wrapping around my throat now, using the edge of the tub for leverage as they pressed down. Water sprayed everywhere, soaking us both, making everything slippery and desperate.

I drove the razor up again, this time catching them in the shoulder. The blade sank deep, and they finally made a sound—a low, animal grunt. Blood dripped down onto my face, mixing with the shower water running into my eyes.

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