Chapter 6: The Standoff
He used all his strength to hold the door against me, refusing to let me in.
His knuckles whitened, arms shaking as he tried to push me out. Sweat dripped down his face, eyes wild with terror.
I pushed with all my might, but still couldn’t force the door open.
My shoulder slammed into the wood, boots skidding on the welcome mat. The door rattled in its frame, hinges protesting under the strain.
But my knife was strong enough, and even with all his strength, Marcus couldn’t close the door.
The blade bit deeper, wedging the door open just enough for me to see the panic in his eyes. He gasped, realizing his strength was no match for my determination.
We were locked in a standoff.
The hallway rang with the sounds of struggle—grunts, the thud of feet, the creak of floorboards. Neither of us was willing to back down.
Marcus’s wife froze for a moment at the sight, then immediately rushed over, scratching and biting me.
Janine screamed, the sound raw and shrill, and threw herself at me—her nails clawed at my face, teeth snapping at my arm. I barely managed to fend her off, ducking my head as she swung wildly.
“You want to kill my Marcus? I’ll fight you to the end!”
Her words rang with desperation and fury. The sound of her voice, so fierce, startled me for a moment—long enough for Marcus to get a better grip on the door. The three of us tumbled together, a tangle of fear and rage, and for a second, all I could see was red.
I was irritated by her attacks, grabbed her hand—
Her nails raked my cheek, and for a second, I almost let go. But then I remembered the darkness, the stone, and I held on. I pinned her wrist, eyes locked on Marcus. “You left me to die. Now it’s your turn to beg.” The words hung in the air, thick with promise.