Theirs to Chase

Chapter 4

Eveline

The world narrows down to a single point of terror as I stare at his body, my mind not processing the full truth.

“Is he joking?” I ask, voice stuttering from the palpable fear spreading through every nook and cranny inside me.

The tears streaming down Nadia’s cheeks and Max’s ashen face tells me he’s not fucking joking. There’s an eerie hum of something unnatural as the weight of reality hits me like a punch to the gut. My palms grow clammy as I stare at Nadia crumbling to her knees before Elias, a few inches away as if afraid of touching him. She lets out a strangled sob, while Max paces back and forth, staring at our surroundings with a nervous yet determined gaze.

“He can’t be dead,” I whisper, more to myself.

The ax in his chest is a gruesome sight, tearing a hole in his chest with blood pouring out as if it will never stop. He recently died. How couldn’t we have heard it?

My body trembles, teeth clattering. That prickling sense of awareness is back, sending a shudder through me that has me hugging myself. I swallow what feels like molten lava as I stare at Elias’s lifeless body. Another lost soul in my life.

Why is this happening to me?

A sudden cold brush against my shoulder leaves me startled as if just now realizing the person behind me.

Eros.

I meet Nadia’s gaze as she hunches down on her knees, her eyes wide with a kind of terror that slips through your soul and remains rooted there. We’re thinking the same thing.

What are the odds that Elias ended up dead the moment Eros appeared?

“Eveline, come,” Max tells me, eyeing Eros with the same suspicion as Nadia.

Nadia stands on her feet, trembling, but Max is there to catch her. She reaches out a hand for me to take just before other voices come behind us in the haunted house. Two men from the influencer’s group come up behind Eros, clasping his shoulder.

Eros was with me the entire time, only finding me short moments after I lost sight of Elias. He wouldn’t have had the time to kill him, but still, I grab Nadia’s hand and look back at Eros with a stiff smile.

“We need to call the police,” Max says as we step away from the corpse.

Elias is fucking dead.

The park descends into complete darkness once again, leaving my body freezing with the paralyzing fear that has my heart in a chokehold.

We approach a funhouse, the entrance now made into a clown opening its mouth to let visitors inside. We stay in the open, and I now realize how stupid that is, but it’ll allow us the chance to run. Someone murdered Elias. He couldn’t have done that to himself.

Max fumbles for his phone in his pocket, before cursing loudly. “Fuck, I forgot ours in the lockbox at the looping coaster,” he says, looking at Nadia.

“I have mine,” I tell him, remembering I stashed it in my pocket.

My hands tremble as I grab the phone, nearly falling right out of my hand. But a bucket of cold water washes over me when I see the “no service” sign on my phone.

“Fuck!” I whisper-shout, panic lacing my words.

“What?” Max asks, looking as if he’s going to spill his dinner.

“No service.”

“We need to head back to that roller coaster and retrieve our phones,” he says, and I swallow, nodding harshly.

The way to the coaster feels like it takes an eternity.

Our feet clash against the cobblestone, too loud for my liking. What if the murderer is out there?

The light returns and a group of people whoops in the distance, their chatter grating on my nerves. Don’t they realize what’s happened? It’s as if we’re isolated in a world that will never find us.

A hard, jostling sound echoes through my surroundings, and I jolt, staring ahead of me at the people entering a Ferris wheel. They get into the cart, which soon moves away, up toward the sky.

I realize only too late the man that stands there, his head tilted to the side as he studies the Ferris wheel. He’s covered in a black suit from head to toe, a red mask with horns and fake blood spilling out. It’s an eerie sight.

I watch the moment he pulls out a set of large, sharp wire cutters, menacingly cutting through the main support cables holding the cart where the people are. My chest somersaults, and I retreat a few steps in horror. As the ride continues, the weakened cables begin to strain, and the cart tilts dangerously.

I’m locked in a trance as I stare at the cart, not processing the reality of the situation.

As the motor of the attraction jumbles, it starts going forward, pausing repeatedly, snapping the last thread of the cables holding it hostage.

A scream lodges in my throat as I watch the cart lose its grip entirely on the Ferris wheel, tumbling to its death on the ground. Screams are heard, then complete silence, and the sound of glass shattering and blood spraying.

The man suddenly turns to me.

“Guys, we need to get out of here,” I breathe, taking a step back.

But Max and Nadia are nowhere in sight. My breath quickens just when the man takes a step toward me, holding that cable wire cutter ominously. I scan my surroundings, looking for a place to run to, but I suddenly have no idea how we even got to the Ferris wheel.

Where are you, Nadia?

Another step forward, and the weight of despair crushes me. Another breath, and I walk backward as the murderer takes a step forward in a game of chase. He’s toying with me.

Something flickers in the corner of my eye, another shadow stalking toward me. Blood covers his chest, eyes red-rimmed. I instantly recognize who he is, even without the pumpkin mask on—Eros. Piercing green eyes are wild and terrified as he runs toward me.

“Eveline!” A scream tears from his chest as he sprints toward me.

“What the fuck happened?” I ask, terror-struck.

“They’re dead. All my friends are dead.”

He catches sight of the murderer a few meters away and the crushed people inside the Ferris wheel cart, swallowing harshly with a lingering sense of paranoia. Quickly, he grabs my hand, rushing me away from the horror scene and into the shadows.

Relief washes over me at having him here—I’m no longer alone—even as a flicker of unease filters through me. I don’t truly know him, but right now, he’s leading me away to safety. Adrenaline fuels my body forward.

“Do you know where the exit is?” I cry out, because I can’t fucking remember anything in the jumbled mess of my terrified mind, and Nadia and Max are nowhere in sight.

“This way,” he hushes me, our feet pounding against the ground as we pass by multiple attractions, all dark because of the electricity being shut down.

Suddenly, Eros stops, turning in circles while looking around, confused. “I swear the exit was this way.” He swallows harshly.

I grab his hand in my trembling one, needing to hold on to something steady. A blinking red light catches my periphery. My palms grow clammy.

“He’s watching us,” I whisper, as if the murderer could hear us through the surveillance cameras.

It blinks red, zoning in on us.

“Come on,” Eros urges, holding my hand as he takes us into the shadows, away from the sight of the cameras.

“Look, there,” I say, my gaze drawn to a miniature pumpkin house. No cameras are stationed outside, and merely a few strides have us inside the building.

It’s a peculiar structure—roundly shaped with the floor flat, warped mirrors inside that takes you into a world of fun and giggles.

This is anything but.

Eros closes the door behind us as quietly as he can, panting. He’s covered in his friends’ blood, and I reach out a hand to stroke his cheek.

“What happened?”

He looks defeated, staring into my eyes with such sadness it makes my heart ache.

“The murderer pushed them into the waterslide, crushing them underneath the machine.” He closes his eyes, willing away the memories. “The water turned red. T-their body parts…”

I say nothing. There’s nothing to say when your friends have been brutally murdered.

He breathes me in, as if grounding himself in my present. Suddenly, he pushes me against one of the mirrors, making it rattle. His tattooed hand caresses my throat, staring me down with his intense gaze. His jaw is sharp and defined, nose slightly crooked. It’s not until now that I’m able to absorb him properly—his face is striking, with angular, defined cheekbones adding a sharpness to his look. His brown hair is tousled and messy, and there’s a rawness to his expression that pulls me in, wrapping around me like thorny vines.

I don’t know what I’m thinking—I just don’t, as I trail my hand along his cheek, taking in his dark eyebrows that are slightly arched and framing his deep-set eyes. I’m mesmerized by this man who captured my soul the moment he chased me last year. It’s terrifying, and I don’t even know him.

“ Spider , and I stop. Okay?” He holds me captive to the mirror which digs into my back with abandon.

My eyes are wide as I stare at him, that mischievous look in his eyes. “Ugh, I hate spiders,” I blurt out.

“Tell me you understand.” His finger digs into my skin, squeezing tightly—I’m sure it will bruise tomorrow.

“I understand.” I swallow.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he growls, and my clit throbs in response.

Terror strikes me when he lifts a knife, pressing it between my breasts above the fabric of my dress.

“Do you trust me?” he asks ominously.

The inner walls of my core tighten at the look he’s giving me. “No,” I breathe.

“Good, because I want to play with my food before I eat it.”

His hand drops dangerously low, removing my dress and throwing it beside my feet. He tears my tights apart, a cool breeze sweeping over my skin as he helps me out of them, then slowly slides my panties down my legs. I’m speechless as he stuffs them inside his pocket, then leans closer to me to ram two of his fingers inside me. It burns at first, but I quickly become used to it. I’m fucking wet for him.

He stretches me out until I’m moaning, his other hand coming up to cover my mouth. He gives me a silent warning, and I just fucking remember what kind of situation we’re in. It makes my stomach drop—our friends were just murdered and he’s in here, fucking me with his fingers.

“We need to stop,” I beg him, all lust thrown out the window.

For a split second, anger fumes inside him that he quickly conceals, but I saw it—enough to make me uneasy. “Shh, let me take good care of you. Don’t fight it. I’ll be gentle,” he croons, and my traitorous pussy begs for him.

“Feel how you clench around my fingers? You don’t want me to stop.”

Another finger enters me, curling as he hits my G-spot. He’s right. I’ve never been this turned on before—the thrill and danger mixes into a noxious concoction.

“More,” I moan as his fingers thrust inside me, bringing me close to another orgasm.

“Your begging is like a fucking prayer. What do you want, little pumpkin?”

I buck my hips, desperately craving him.

“You,” I breathe, eyes rolling to the back of my head as his fingers curl.

“How many fingers can you take?” he whispers in my ear, and my inner walls clench around him the moment he pushes a fourth finger inside.

“Oh fucking god,” I moan, the stinging sensation soon transforming into pleasure.

He holds me steady by my waist as he makes me fall apart, nearly losing my balance from the rough force of the orgasm hitting me out of nowhere.

“So beautiful when you come,” he praises.

I’m panting by the time he’s done, expecting him to take a step back. “We should call the police,” I breathe.

“Oh, baby. Did you think I was done with you?” He laughs.

His voice hints at a playfulness of wanting more of this , but his words cause alarm inside me, as if they have a double meaning. I lick my lips, trying to decide whether to stop. If I say the safe word, will he stop? Or am I trapped with a predator?

My legs tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm, and the aching need for more is undeniable.

“I’m clean. Are you on birth control?” he asks.

“Yes,” I nod. “And me too.”

The smirk tilting his lips is creepy, sending a yearning within me as I dip my mouth to his lips, capturing them in mine. They taste like chewing gum and mint as he breathes. His intensity is brewing, filling the entire small house until it leaves no place for anything else. This man oozes sex, and I can’t wait to feel him around me.

“Distract me. If you don’t give me what I want,” I taunt, teasingly. This only seems fitting for the night of horror—Halloween. “I will slit your throat.”

I pointedly look at the fake prop of a knife—one I’m sure he found somewhere in the haunted house.

“Oh?” A dark laugh escapes him as his eyes narrow. “Maybe I’ll slit yours before you get the chance,” he growls, leaning in until his breath is hot against my ear. “And fuck your corpse while it’s still warm.”

His voice drips with a sinister, mocking tone, daring to see how far this game of ours will go. That awareness within me that senses danger spikes up, but I know this is only an act—that knife is fake.

He reaches up, his fingers grazing my throat almost affectionately. My pulse starts racing as I meet his gaze, piercing through my soul. “You think this is just Halloween fun?” He glances down at the blade. “You have no idea how real things can get.” His words are ominous, and I swallow against the knot in my throat.

This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, but when he sees how tense my shoulders are, his stance relaxes and a huge grin splits his lips.

“You’re right, we should get out of here. The office is on the other side of the park. If I can break in, I can use their phone to call the cops.”

My brow furrows. “Wait, ‘I’?”

“You should stay here. It’s safer.”

Before I have the chance to protest, he’s gone, and I’m left staring at myself in the mirror, naked.

What the fuck just happened?