Echoes of moonlit grave

PROLOGUE

Steel flashed and the body dropped dead to the ground like a stone.
My hand shot to my mouth, desperate to stifle the gasp that clawed its way up my throat. The ground beneath me started sinking as I crouched behind the tree, my chest rising and falling frantically, and my heartbeat racing like a war drum in my ears. My fingers dug deeper into my thighs to keep myself from making a noise.

And suddenly the jungle felt alive with rustling of leaves and distant bells of clocktower but all I could focus was horror unfolded before me. A group of men stood over a lifeless body, their laughter echoed through the dense foliage. Tears stung my eyes and all I wanted to do was scream and run away.

My throat tightened with tears and I couldn't breath.

Close your eyes and count to three. A distant voice echoed in my mind.

One. Tears blurred my vision. Two. My breath hitched, chest tightening.
Three. Run, Bella.

Planting my palms on the ground, I slowly perched up, and gazed through the tree, my heart racing as I keep my eyes locked on the predators. I took a step back. Another. Then— a rough, calloused hand clamped over my mouth, silencing my gasp. Panic surged through me as an arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against a solid, unyielding chest. I kicked and twisted, desperate, but the grip held me firm. Adrenaline surged as I fought to break free.

"Easy now, little bird," a low voice whispered in my ear, smooth and dangerously calm. I froze, the weight of that presence more suffocating than the steel pressed against my throat. And I didn't dare to move.

I waited for him to drag me to those merciless predators because he sure as hell wasn't my well wisher. Instead he remained there, his breath warm against my skin as if savoring my fear.

We stood there motionless, with his hand still clamped over my mouth and his strong grip holding me firm, as the voices in the distance grew fainter and fainter, swallowed by the thick night air.
Every breath I took felt labored, every beat of my heart a defeating echo in the silence.

When the last murmer faded into oblivion, I silently prayed to the God before I took my last chance. I wriggled in his firm hold, twisting and thrashing, my body moving on instinct. I kicked wildly, my heel connecting me with something hard, and then I clawed into his arms, nails digging into his flesh, not caring about the sting of blade still pressed against my throat. The sharp edge bit into my neck and a warm trickle of blood began to flow, but I didn't stop. Pain and fear tangled together fueling my desperation. I had to get away.

His grip tightened, a steel vise locking me in place. "Careful,", he hissed his voice no longer smooth but taut as if my defiance had surprised him. "I'd hate to cut that pretty little throat of yours."

But I didn't care. I kicked harder, bucking against him, willing my body to break free. My head throbbed with the need for air, for freedom. For a fleeting moment, his hold loosened ---- just enough.

I twisted again, tearing myself away from grasp, my own blood smeared across my skin as I staggered forward. My lungs burned, my legs trembling, but I kept moving not daring to look back.

"Don't make me chase you, darling," his voice called out from behind, a low sinister purr. But I was no longer listening. All I knew was that If I faltered for even a moment, he'd catch me again ---- and this time there would be no escape.