Page 5 of Pounded in the Patch
Survive.
I open my eyes.
The first thing I see is his massive silhouette looming over me, backlit by moonlight and orange artificial light coming from somewhere behind him. He's tall, much taller than me, with broad shoulders that block my view. I can't see his face clearly with the light shining behind him, but I can feel the intensity of his gaze like heat against my skin.
He's been waiting for this moment.
Anticipating it.
This is all part of his plan. To make me feel small. Helpless. Like I’ve got nowhere to run.
"Good girl," he says, and something in his voice makes my stomach flip. "Let's get you out of there."
Good girl.
Why do those two little words send a wave of heat through me?
What is wrong with me?
He reaches into the car, and every instinct I have screams at me to fight, to kick, to do something. But with my hands and feet bound, there's nothing I can do except let him lift me from the car like I weigh nothing at all.
Fuck, he's strong.
So much stronger than me.
Fighting him would be useless. He’d pin me down and break me like a toothpick in seconds.
His arms are solid muscle beneath his black button up shirt, and he handles me with a care that feels too gentle for the situation he’s put us in. Like he doesn't want to hurt me.
But that doesn't make sense.
Noneof this makes sense.
As he carries me away from the car, I finally catch my first real glimpse of where we are, and breath hitches in the back of my throat.
Oh my God.
We're in a forest clearing, surrounded by tall trees that stretch up into the star-studded sky. But it's what's in the clearing that makes me forget how to breathe, that makes me question my eyes.
This isn't possible.
What did he knock me out with? I have to be hallucinating. This can’t be real.
Dozens upon dozens of carved jack-o'-lanterns are scattered across the ground like fallen stars, their glowing faces casting flickering shadows in a thick mist that curls around their bases. The fog is so dense I can only see a few feet in any direction, but what I can see looks like something ripped straight from a fever dream or a fairy tale gone wrong.
It's beautiful, yet so terrifying.
It's impossible.
The jack-o'-lanterns are works of art—elaborate, intricate designs that must have taken forever to complete. Some are traditional Halloween faces, triangular eyes and jagged grins that leer at me through the mist. Others are far more complex, with patterns so detailed they can’t be real.
How?
How is any of this possible?
What kind of psychopath creates something this elaborate, this beautiful, this absolutely fucking insane? And the Halloween music playing in the background… It polishes the spooky aesthetic.
The scope of it is overwhelming. This isn't some makeshift setup thrown together for one night. This is months of planning, professional-level work, more money than most people see in a lifetime.
