Page 108 of Ruthless Chaos
The group of them smell like wet grass.
Is that a hint of where they’re taking me?
Their hands seize me, and I don’t struggle. A rough blindfold is forced over my eyes. This time, they bind my wristsandfeet with zip ties.
Strangely, I’m not anxious, only tense with anticipation.
My brain is clearer, so I’m able to keep track of the path we take. It doesn’t feel familiar, though.
The cool night air hits my cheeks. We’re leaving the House.
I’m almost certain the last trial took place in a hidden part of the basement. Why do we need to leave this time?
My stomach flips when we take a sharp turn, and the sound of the terrain under their feet changes from the paved walkway to damp grass.
Are they taking me to the forest?
Though my wrists are bound, my fingers start shaking.
These girls are cruel. I don’t put it past them to leave me deep in the woods to fend for myself. Or worse. I pull in a shuddering breath.
Wherever we’re headed, the grass is overgrown, the blades rustling against the fabric of their clothes. It feels like they’ve been carrying me for hours.
My shoulders and shins are sore from their hands digging into me.
Are we even on campus, still? My thoughts spiral.
Maybe these aren’t even Hemlock House girls.
What if I’m actually being kidnapped this time?
I squirm against their grip, but it’s no use. These abductors are just as strong, if not stronger than the group who took me the last time.
Just as I start hyperventilating, they halt.
I brace myself, expecting to be thrown to the ground. Instead, one of them speaks. I don’t recognize the voice, but it's feminine. That allays my fear a little.
TheseareHemlock House girls.
“This is the last one,” she says.
I hear the creaking of hinges, then the coolness of the outdoors is gone. The room is empty as their footsteps echo loudly. Suddenly, light floods my awareness—even through the thick blindfold—and the next sensation is of falling against the hard floor.
The restraints on my wrists and ankles come off first, then the blindfold.
Bright lights sear my eyeballs as I try to orient myself.
Sight doesn’t help me figure out what’s happening. I’m in a small room with three other Hemlock freshmen—I recognize them from the previous trial, and I’ve seen them around the House—along with Cassidy and Liz.
One entire side of the room is covered in curtains, while the others are windowless walls with stripping, aging wood. There are a few pieces of furniture with white sheets over them, and a door at the far end of the room.
The fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling scream harsh light. Dust is thick in the air. When I rub my fingers together, I realize it isn’t just thesmellof dust, there’s a thin layer of it coating the room as well.
I cringe. It’s all over my skin.
Cassidy’s wearing an unnerving smile. Her hair’s pulled up into a ponytail and she isn’t wearing her traditional spooky robe.
She’s clad in a sparkly flapper dress and a pair of strappy gold heels, as if she’s going to a vintage party. Liz is dressed similarly—ponytail, sparkly dress and heeled sandals.
