Page 62 of Tempt Me

The figure walked in front of the coffin. I threw my hands out of the casket, wrapping them around the intruder. We struggled inside the dark confinement, and I gripped their throat, restraining their body as best I could.

But the person screamed.

The sound was feminine, and their body became slightly visible as my back was shoved against the coffin’s top, letting some light peek through the cracks. I let go of…her, staring at the woman underneath me.

Her thick curves, large tits, and strawberry hair, I would know anywhere.

I held her arms down, arching my back into the coffin further so I could use the moonlight to view her more fully.

“Miss me, Little Voyeur?”

Twenty Two

Dissociation: Feeling of being disconnected from thoughts, feelings, memories or even sense of identity.

Was I ever truly connected?

The masked man on top of me, holding me down and locking me in a fucking coffin, leaned down, his mouth the only visible thing I could see of the terrifying devil’s face.

“Miss me, Little Voyeur?”

I froze, my body going rigid as the man’s cock pressed painfully into my stomach.

Little Voyeur…

The only man to call me that was my professor. I shook off the familiarity and continued my struggle, my fear making me act out of pure instinct.

There was a murderer out here, and I stupidly wanted to chase a story. Now, I would be the one being chased. Even more likely, I would be the dumbass plastered on tomorrow’s news for the gossip eaters to gorge on for weeks until another dumb fuck followed in my footsteps.

This guy could be faking it.

My professor wouldn’t be in the middle of the woods in a fucking mask…would he?

I thrashed, bucking and fighting and biting.

I used every part of my body available to me, scratching with my nails and losing my breath as I felt the casket rocking back and forth with my struggle.

The man wasn’t fighting me. His earlier decision to strangle me must have been too easy because now he was just trying to block my blows. I screamed over and over and kicked at the lid.

“Stop!” His command was clear.

He leaned forward on my legs and closed in so tight that we were now in complete darkness.

“No! Fuck off,” I shrieked, pounding at his back and ripping off pieces of his hoodie.

I managed to nail him in the balls, used zero time to push myself out of the designer death trap, and took off at a dead run.

The man followed me. His heavy pants and bloody red mask were shining because of the moonlight. I tried not to scream, running and diving into another coffin that was open and hanging over a big ass hole in the ground.

I sunk down as far as I could, trying to steady my breathing and heartbeat.

It was all I could hear over the rain and rumbling thunder.

Thump, thump, thump.

“Help,” I whispered desperately, kicking myself for sneaking out of the house to look for the crime scene.

The rain began to fill the casket, and a small puddle was collected in the red material upholstered onto it.

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