As soon as she hears the helicopters, Ellie knows she fucked up.
They fly over her head, the sound of their blades piercing the night sky. Their lights shine down over the woods, searching for any sight of the escapee.
They’ll never find him,
Just like they’ll never find her.
Her legs burn from running frantically in the dark. The tiny light that usually illuminates the cabin is missing, most likely from the tricks he pulled.
But the search lights aid her in finding refuge. The dark outline of her temporary residence momentarily shines in the dark, and she follows it, narrowly avoiding tripping over her own feet. Her shoes clack against the wooden steps and sweat drips down her neck as she tries not once, but twice to shove the key into the lock.
On the second try, she drops them.
Whimpering, fighting back tears, the key finally makes contact with the lock and she bursts through the front door, maniacally flipping every light switch she can find.
None of them work, and she screams in frustration.
The sounds of the helicopters fade away, and she knows she’s doomed.
Rescue isn’t coming. They’ll never find her, because he cut the power, the smart man he is.
She can barely see through her tears, her body shaking as she fumbles around in the darkness, feeling her way towards the kitchen. She pulls one of the drawers open and grabs the chef’s knife, gripping the handle like a lifeline. Grabbing the end of the kitchen table, she drags it across the wooden floor, barricading the front door. She pushes every chair against it for good measure.
He’s going to come in no matter what. It doesn’t mean she has to make it easy for him.
Closing the curtains, blocking out any source of light, she races down to the basement, using her key to unlock the door.
She shuts it behind her, breathing heavily into the darkness. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, every part of her aches.
Including her heart.
Her heart is what aches the most, and she grits her teeth, refusing to let out the anguish that gathers in her throat.
She replays every stupid mistake she made in her mind, reliving every moment she had the chance to leave.
To escape him.
But instead, she played right into his hands.
She can’t see an inch in front of her. The darkness suffocates her, draining her of all her strength. She presses herself against the wall, sliding down to the floor, her head in her hands.
Her phone is dead. He made sure of it.
Just like he made sure her car was dead.
They should have known he wouldn’t stay confined in that prison for long.
He was only there because he wanted to be there.
And now, he has a reason to leave.
She shivers in the dark, knife in hand, waiting for the inevitable.