Objective: Survive

It didn't end the way it did in fairytales. I hadn't expected it to, being our first time and everything.

But I hadn't exactly expected a body planted face first in the soil either.

"Is he...dead?" Tyler, boyfriend of 6 years, asks. I'm on my knees, two hesitant fingers lingering on this stranger's frigid neck, anticipating a throb. Nothing. Nothing but a corpse now.

My knees quiver as I rise, and I have to rely on Tyler's lean figure to support my shaken state. My only plans for today had been to go hiking. And I've just touched a dead person.

"I think this is the part where we call the police." I say this softly in case something else other than words eject out of my oesophagus.

Tyler's reminder doesn't help my nausea. "I think this is the part where you remember we're in the middle of a signal-less jungle."

He gives the faintest hint of a smile, but stares deeply into my ocean eyes as I do the same to his silver ones, and together we share a moment of intense panic.

There isn't anything around us that indicates a cause of death. From my perspective, it's pine tree after pine tree all the way down the dirt path we'd been happily treading on, so oblivious to the rotting obstacle that now lay by our grubby sneakers. It's Tyler's turn to bend down for closer inspection. I hear him throw in a grunt every so often while he attempts to roll the lifeless body over.

"He could've had a medical condition. Heart attack?" I'm relieved that his assumptions make sense. Yeah, just a really unfortunate time to have heart failure. Just a…

Tyler succeeds in moving the corpse while I'm chanting these reassuring thoughts to myself, and then I see my existence disintegrating right in front of my eyes. Not a heart attack. A huge gash imprinted into the poor guy's colour-drained forehead. But that doesn't petrify me the most. I don't need to approach any closer to see how red and wet the wound still is.

The cut is fresh.

"Car's that way." I'm aware of Tyler's warmth spreading through my palm as our fingers intertwine, yet my legs don’t work. "Gia let's go!"

The desperacy in his yell kicks my senses awake. What we’re supposed to be afraid of, we don’t know, and we don’t stick around to find out. The cool spring air blasting past us tosses strands of wavy hair into my face. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. I’m slowing Tyler down, but it only makes his grip on my hand tighten, determined to keep me close.

When a strong weight is felt upon my shoulders however, there isn't anything my partner can do to stop me being hauled away.

My name is hollered again as I hit the solid ground, limbs flailing. Whoever has snatched the collar of my parka shows the bare minimum of a struggle, and I know he's not letting go. I’m mildly surprised my heart hasn’t exploded yet.

"Where do you think you're going, miss?" A raspy voice fills my head, scraping the insides of my ears. I muster up enough courage to tilt my head, and get rewarded with the beautiful scene of a cloudless orange to purple ombre sky before I'm met with narrow eyes and a sneer on a cold, twisted face. If you were looking for a friend, this was the wrong guy.

"I don't have money!" I tell it to him like it's going to change my fate. Tears began emerging from my eyes on their own accord as I glance at the other body on the ground, the deceased one, which I’m positive is my captor’s doing. I fear I’m going to end up like him in a minute. "I don't have anything valuable. Let me go!"

Footsteps pounding in our direction prompts me to brace for another thug, hence the inexpressible relief I get when I realise it’s Tyler. Fright and anger are the two emotions that can be picked out from his daunting expression. “Leave her alone!”

The guy thumps himself repeatedly gorilla-style. I can’t help cringing. “You going to fight me on it?”

Lo and behold, they do fight on it.

Tyler ensues it, lunging at the burly man with a strength I've never known him to possess. He serves a punch to the jaw, only to have the blow returned back, and the violence only ramps up from there. My frantic cries may as well have been carried by the wind, nevertheless I continue as a vicious thrust sends Tyler skidding backwards. Amongst the three of us, I'm the only one who sees a hint of glimmer tumble out of the pocket on his jeans. Simple, round, shiny. Just big enough to go around a finger. Around my finger.

A ring.

I don't have time to think about it, the heat of the commotion is too fierce. I turn back to find - to my horror - a doubled-over Tyler bearing a dark bruise on the upper of his right arm, being gleefully chortled at by his competitor. Without a moment's hesitation, our enemy has brandished a handle supporting a sleek blade. My throat seizes with one look at the dagger. Tyler shoots up straight, sweat cascading down the sides of his tensed face. It’s a defenseless two against one with a weapon. We’re done for.

“No. No!” My interference comes too late. There’s no going back once the guy wedges his blade deep into Tyler’s neck, no emotion, no empathy. Merciless. I’m properly sobbing now, witnessing Tyler wince in agony seconds before he collapses beside the former victim. His pupils are absent, rolled up beneath his eyelids. Even though I rush to press my ear to his lips anyways, I quickly understand with an overwhelming ache that I’ve lost him. My boyfriend is gone.

Which leaves me all alone with the serial killer.

He gives his knuckles a crack. “And then there was one.”

I’m too full of grief to retort back. No sooner has the blade been raised that I endure a sharp stab of pain course through my spine. It’s the last feeling I would ever feel ever again.