Chapter Twenty-Eight
I can’t escape this f*****g guy, I thought as he began to approach me. I stared at him, studying the details of the eerie hockey mask that covered his face and his identity. I began to pull myself backwards, though the injury in my shoulder caused my progress to be slow and painful. I scooted backwards and winced at the fresh jolt of pain that made its way up my arm. With an injured ankle and a stab wound, I knew that I was too battered to run anymore. Can this really be the end? I thought to myself, feeling the tears welling just at the corners of my eyes. I wouldn’t take the liberty of calling myself lucky, but so far I had managed to escape death’s dark grip by mere inches. This figure before me, this one that had let me escape, was going to be the death of me. I studied the sight of
Great novels start here
- Writer
