Jump or die

Jump or die
JESSICA'S POV

With his grip tightened on my hair, I squinted in pain. I turned to meet his gaze — fierce and flaming in disgust.

I looked down, just below the window I sat on, fear gripped me, I fiddled with my fingers as my whole body got tensed.

Was I really going to jump this? This had to be the scariest point of my life. I had to make a quick decision.

My breath hitched at the thought of me jumping and dying with an incomplete body. I gasped in fear once Andre pressed his hands to my back as if he was going to push me down. I wanted this and now that he was going to do so — I feared my decision.

I turned, eyes fixed on his arms that gripped my hair so tight and once I saw him lick his lips, I clenched my fist and cursed.

“Psycho.“ I muttered in between gritted teeth while he cried in pain. His first masculine voice already turned feminine as I bit into his arms and at once, his grip loosened on mine, as if letting me on cue, so I looked down at the floor which was far away from where I sat, I shut my eyes and..

Jumped! That was it..I embraced darkness for god knows how fvcking long until a liquid splash got me awake. I grunted in pain, almost crying as my whole body felt wounded and numb.

My eyes were closed lightly and so I used not much strength to snap them open and it was more of a daze once I saw where I was.

The building was old and built in bricks when I felt tied and trapped. I was tied to a wooden chair in thick ropes and although I tried to yank myself of it, my bruises wouldn't let me. A pain snapped inside of me once I moved my legs and just while I gasped in pain, Andre walked in wearing a stern look on his face. A pistol on his hand and a heavy stick resting on his shoulder.

His presence wasn't the pervert at the other room, right now, he was some fvcking maniac. Sweat broke down my face in endless flows, I felt my bone pricking in my collar bone, I shifted uncomfortably and yes, in fear as I watched him on the other end tending to a meat and then after much care, he'd butcher them without a second thought. He'd turn to me thereafter, very consistently and wear a smirk to his face and then he overshadows it with a smile that spreads the weight of — Sinister.

I moved uncomfortably in the chair trying hard to relieve myself of one or two knots but I ended up making the chair scrape the cemented floor. He turned — alarmed, took his hands to his hair, dressed them neatly and then he placed his eye glasses perfected on the nose then to the eye as he raised an eyebrow to my sight. He stood up from the small stool beside him and kicked it off in anger, I trembled, sweat breaking out on my forehead while he — Andre. He kicked his legs in the air twice obviously from the pain he just caused himself but right now, my mind screamed at me to run.

But how? When I was locked in a reckless abandon, I jumped from the window which was very high from the ground and then I ended up alive to see the face of this monster who clenched his fist every second.

Now, I was tied to a chair by this monster and sat ready to be butchered. I trembled in fear, I could feel my legs shaking and then while he walked slowly, 1… 2… as if counting his steps, I swallowed hard the lump I didn't realize I had formed in my throat until I heard the gulp.

I shut my eyes in fear, my whole body stiffening, while my heart jerked as if expecting him to slash his knife at me until his voice broke the silence, shattering my expectation or rather distracting me from a fast death.

“That's too fast my love, how about you go through some other…” he paused.

My eyes widened as I snapped them open to meet his face. At first, I thought I saw him hesitate but maybe I expected too much.

“Special treatment.“ The word sliced through the air like a sharp knife that had been holding on to cut off the silence. My eyes widened in confusion and yet I feared.

I feared what would become of me and just how special he was planning to treat my death.

I tightened my grip around the chair's armrest, holding up my breath as he paced around me as if trying to own up to choices he'd make out of whatever plans he had built and yet, my fear increased. I could hear my pulse ringing in my ears and maybe he did too cause…

He stopped in his tracks as if he heard something and then he waves it off in a minute, stares at me with a glint of whatever he was thinking reflecting in his eyes as all I saw was — a psycho thinking of the best way to murder this prey.

“Your last prayers.“ His voice murdered the second round of silence, cold — measured, calculated, decisive and with every ounce of power.

I closed my eyes not in prayers but that it was my last time seeing David.

Didn't he notice I was here? And then I heard it, like a loud crash?

I shut my eyes open, as if hope had built from within me — I couldn't hear my pulse pounding or heart beat rising, all I heard or thought I did was the ….

Drum rolls….

Checkmate! It was David.

And as if it were a declaration, I muttered.

“He's here.“

Andre glanced at me. His boldness already replaced with fear, he staggers backwards and backward until he loses his stance and crashes onto the old desk behind him.

And then the sound came. Gentle yet rough?

It was a grip on the door handle and once the person outside pressed down on it, the door opened with aggressiveness as it hit the wall.

My lips curled into a sly smile as I locked eyes with the startled Andre.

A
nd all that dominated the room was — an intimidating presence.