Page 60 of Lost to the Woods

Ibarely make out his words before I feel his hand tightening harder around my neck. The world tunnels. My feet scramble for footing as my spine grates against rough bark, and I choke on air that doesn’t come. My throat is too tight, his grip too firm, precise, like he’s done this before.

“Ghost!” I wheeze, kicking, and grabbing at his wrist so frantically that one of his cord bracelets snaps. “Stop!”

He doesn’t speak at first. Just stands there, looming, a full foot taller than me, literally choking me. He raises the camera in his other hand—the red light blinking—and pans it over my face.

This went from ghost hunting to snuff film real fast. I just know it will be a hit on the dark web… Oh dear God, he’s going to kill me.

“For a second, I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this,” he adds. He doesn’t sound angry. It’s worse. He’s poised. Controlled. Like he’s making a documentary about how he plans to tear me apart.

I can’t breathe. My stomach twists so violently that I think I might throw up. My entire body goes ice cold, like my blood is backing away from my skin.

He releases me right before I pass out, and my knees nearly buckle as I desperately gasp for air.

Even worse comes next.

Slowly, he pulls a knife from underneath his hoodie.

Long. Clean. Sharp.

I freeze.

He holds it up—not to stab, not yet—but to let me see it. Let me understand.

He steps closer and cages me against the tree again, then the blade touches my cheek. I flinch, but he doesn’t cut. Just lets it trail like a lover’s caress of steel. Down my face. Over my throat.

My pulse pounds like war drums. My legs tremble under me, and still I can’t move. My voice fails. My thoughts scatter.

He leans in, pressing the smooth mask against my temple and inhales. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Fear smells incredible on you, little bunny.”

“Why are you doing this?” I manage to croak, voice shaking as badly as my limbs.

“Why?” he echoes, the dead calm in his voice bordering on unhinged now. Then he erupts, “Because you broke my fucking heart, you traitorous bitch!”

I can’t believe what’s happening…

He’s my Ghost…

This can’t be real…

“Please,” I whimper, voice shattered. “Please, stop…”

“Even your begging sounds like a lie.” He tilts the knife and presses it harder under my jaw. Not enough to break skin. Just enough to tell me he could. “All you had to do was choose me. Just fuckingchoose me. But instead, you tossed me aside like garbage. And now look what you made me do!”

My body trembles. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I can’t. I don’t know what will make him snap worse.

He laughs. But there’s nothing human in it. It starts low and bitter, then rises into something ragged and cracked. “Oh, if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions, you selfish, spoiled brat.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what?” he hisses. “Lead me on? Toy with my feelings for your fucking entertainment? Make me your little fucking joke?!” His voice cracks. Just for a second.

And then it’s gone, replaced by something cold. Something final. “You used me. And that’s okay, Bunny. Because now I get to use you in return.”

A fresh wave of panic chokes me. The fog thickens around us, swallowing sound. My heartbeat feels like it’s pounding in my ears loud enough to summon monsters from the trees.

But isn’t the real monster standing right in front of me? A man in the woods…

A man who perhaps loved me a little too much.

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