Desperate Run

by C.J. Riggs

I’ve seen you with Draven.” She hisses, but I don’t care. His name bringing me back into the room slightly and I turn my gaze to her and smile.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get here. Just so I could punish you for touching him.” Something nicks the skin on my neck, and I wince. “Small little cuts, all over the skin. Do you seriously think, that when I’m done with you, he’s going to want to look at you?” The exit max, look for the exit. “Tiny little cuts, Max,” she chuckles. “You’re nothing… to anyone.” Another little cut to the cheek, then another. Scars everywhere. Disgusting. Victim. “I heard your little conversation in the woods too. Gang raped,” she scoffs. “That’s tough.” The small knife nipping the skin on my cheek. “All those things they did to you, Max. I bet you enjoyed every… single… second of it. Didn’t you? You fucking whore.” “N-no.” I can feel my eyes burning as I look at my reflection in the mirror. “I swear… I-I never.” My voice hardly even a whisper.

“Please what Max? Let you kill yourself? Of course.” She takes hold of my hand. “This wrist right here,” she points running her slender finger over the exposed tendon. “This skin is perfect, nice and thin and it’ll be so quick.” Her voice singing me to sleep like a lullaby. “You won’t even feel a thing. Which is a lot more than a whore like you deserves.” “But... I-I don’t want–” “You tried it twice before Max, remember... This time there will be nobody here to stop you. You can let it all go here and be... free.” Max, stop. Don’t listen to her. Please don’t do this. My voice screaming into the back of my mind, banging on the glass as I take the small scalpel from her hand. “That’s right Max.” She takes hold of my wrist. My throat dry, my lungs tight. Void of air. So tight I feel like I can’t breathe. “If you do it now, all the pain is over. Draven will never know; I’ll make sure of it. I’ll tell him you left. He could never love you, Max. He has no heart and even if he did, he wouldn’t waste it on you.”

“You can’t give him what I can.” Her voice filters back in, but I’ve lost all sense of awareness now and all I know is I’m a mess, I’m disgusting. “Everyone will be happy when you’re dead, Max.

“Help me!” I scream at the top of my lungs, but I end up slamming my entire body into the door. “Grim!!” The cold breeze slicing across my face, and I stumble to the ground and cry out. “Grim where are you!?” I sob, turning myself in a circle, down on my knees in search of the one who can save me. The gravel biting into the sensitive skin on my palm, my sobs ringing out as people jump away from the door. “Grim!” My lungs burning from the only word I can say. “YOU BITCH!!” Her voice bellows from the depths of the maze. I turn to face the door and watch as she limps to the opening, yanking the scalpel from her thigh. Draven where are you? I scramble further and further from the door as my back slams against something hard, and I immediately look up.

Watching her fall from the maze nearly shatters my restraint, but hearing her call for me pushes me past the edge. For the first time since losing my sister, I swear I can feel my heart. It’s not just the pulsing in my veins; it’s the pounding against my chest, a stark reminder that I still have one. She’s reminding me I’m alive, and that's something no one has ever done for me. Not even Alyson.

The sound of people vomiting and screaming attempting to take dominance, but I refuse to hear any of it, just her.

She was going to make me kill myself… tell you I left…” I’m trying not to focus on her ending her own life, and just disappearing. Her head drops back just as I take the first step up into my trailer. “Would you look for me?” “In this life,” I release her legs, lifting one of mine to support her as best as I can, and swing the door open. “And in the next.”

Do you know why I don’t call you beautiful, but instead, perfect, Max?” The shake of her head is almost imperceptible, but I notice it. “It’s because beauty is comparable, where you are not. You are my version of perfection, which no one can compare to.”

I’m not sure if she’ll even remember my words once everything is out of her system. It doesn’t matter, though; I’ll tell her every damn day whether she wants to hear it or

not. Because, as I've said, once the weekend ends, there’s no escaping me. She’s ...

Turning completely to the side, she hums in approval, her bare chest pressing against my stomach as she weakly wraps her arms around my torso. The blood on me is beginning to drain downward, falling to our feet, and disappearing into the drain. “The water is nice…” she moans, and I reach toward the rack that has my shampoo, and pop it open. Her hazel eyes round as I squirt it into her hair. “What?” I ask, placing it back and pulling her tighter with the arm that’s been holding her. Gently, I go to begin washing her hair. “I can wash my own hair…” she murmurs, and I’m convinced she’s not convinced she can. I move my hand, “Okay, go ahead.” The subtle shift of her throat as she swallows hard is indication enough, but I have to tease her. “Can’t move your arms from around me, huh?” “I don’t even think I have arms; I have noodles.” My lips press tightly together, fighting myself not to start laughing, because it’s not funny. She’s funny, not the drug that is making her loopy.

“Never took you as an aftercare person…” she whispers. Me either… “I like seeing you pleased.

I read.” “You? Read?” “Yes.” I don’t really have a brush that would be good for her hair, so, suppose my fingers will do. “Anything really.” She leans to the side. “Romance?” I just stare at her, wondering if she really wants me to answer that question or if she’s smart enough to know that answer. The curl of her lips accentuates her Cupid's bow, and I sigh. “Of course, but not for that. It has to have a good story.” Her legs draw up to her chest as she trembles, as though she’s cold. “What is your favorite book?

The soft beating of his heart—the one he says he doesn’t have—lulls me into the calmest experience I think I’ve ever felt in the presence of a man. In seven years, I’ve never felt safety or strength, but Draven… he gives me all of that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, because I don’t… feel anything. At least not for anyone except Sasha.

“I know what this is, okay?” I blurt out, a little louder than I initially intended to, yet he doesn’t react at all. “And that's what?” His voice is still as calm as it was during my little drug-fueled panic. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” I’m trying not to act ridiculous but the way he’s looking at me right now, like I’ve grown a second head, is infuriating. “I don’t.” He shrugs. He’s lying Max. How could he ever want you when you’re tarnished. Broken. “Look, I know whatever this is, is just a passing thing for you. I.. I know this is your thing.”

“My thing?” He questions, raising an eyebrow at me. “You find your prey, or whatever, and you fuck them and then it’s—” “Disgusting.” “The drugs are making you believe a lie, Max.” Deciding to ignore him completely, I carry on with my train of thought and words. “You don’t have to lie and... I don’t know, do all this shit for me.” “You think I do this for everyone?” He points between the both of us. “Don’t you?” I huff out a laugh. “I mean, look at me...” I spread my arms. “I’m a fucking mess, Draven. What they did to me, I’ll never get over that.” I freeze, staring at him, trying to make him understand. “I-I can’t have children; I can’t give you what you…” I freeze, I don’t even know what I’m trying to give him. “I barely fucking sleep and when I do it’s filled with nightmares. I’m, I’m... I’m just…” I feel the familiar sensation of burning behind my eyes and it makes me even angrier. I lace my fingers through my hair and pull. “Keep going,” he urges.

More images of how I struggled to walk after I left the hospital, and the way I can’t tell anyone. I took a chance telling Sasha that night and here I am, hating myself more and more when— “My brain is... is fucked up and I’m—” “You’re what…” His voice filters into the air around me, his calloused hands gently taking hold of mine and removing them from my hair. Through all my panic, I hadn’t realized he’d stood up. “I-I’m—” I shake my head. I can’t do this with him. It’s not fair and it’s not right. In a little over a day, I’ll be gone, and so will he and I’ll just be like all the other girls he’s been with. “He could never love someone like you.” Marcella’s words are unrelenting, they continue to float through my mind. Taking control of every single thought. How can I look at him and feel this kind of jealousy. What is wrong with me? This wasn’t supposed to be...

only man who was supposed to love me unconditionally sold me to cl...

“Are you ok?” Her voice so soft and delicate. I want to tell her the truth, that I’m not and I haven’t been for a very long time. I’ve been lying for years about how I am mentally broken but instead I just say, “I’m fine, I promise. How long do you think you’ll be?”

“Come here.” He points in front of him, and I willingly take the few steps. Sitting back down, he pulls me between his legs, fisting the robe at my chest, and pulls me closer, so quickly, I end up falling into his lap. “Every single thing she said to you, was a lie.” Straddling him to get myself comfortable, he slides both hands to rest on my thighs, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion. “She doesn’t know what I want or need, for that matter.” I try to look down, but he tips my chin, making me focus right back at him. “Tell me you understand.” “I understand,” I whisper, flicking my eyes down to his tattooed chest. “What is my name?” I’m surprised by the question. “Draven.” “If you were anyone else, you would not know that name. I wouldn’t have cared to make sure there were no nuts in the snacks after maze one. I wouldn’t have treated your ankle. Told you about the mazes. Max, do you understand?” I nod as I run my fingertips over the tattoo on his peck.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you. Let me see those eyes.” My gaze flicks up at his command. “You are my perfection personified, Petit Mouton, and that pisses people like Marcella off. Don’t let her get into your head.”

even though our time has been short, I would recognize his touch anywhere; in any lifetime and on any plane of this world.

I’m begging now, begging for him to replace every hateful part of my skin. To remove the invisible marks they left there all those years ago. Requesting that a man I barely know, save me in his own way. I might be a fool for thinking this could be something, could’ve been something, but right now I just need to feel something… anything, other than pain in my heart.

Dancing my fingertips over the mark I just gave him, I whisper, “My scar.” Then moving to touch the one he gave me. “Your scar.”

La muerte me beso y me senti como en el cielo... lo que queda demi eres tu.

“He was looking at me some type of way, wasn’t he?” I roll my lips together, desperately trying to keep my cool. Swaying on the bed, she leans into me. “Girl, he was looking at you like you were the last thing in this world for him.

my weakness for that woman is dangerous.

I don’t remember my first kill, at least, not like it was yesterday. Sure, I recall the action of breaking the beer bottle against the bar top, gripping it, and thrusting the jagged points straight into the man’s neck. The feelings and thoughts surrounding it don’t swim about, nor does the aftermath. Self-defense is what I claimed, but everyone knew it was bullshit. My parents had amazing lawyers who got me out of that and several other criminal charges in my youth. Little good me staying out of prison did for my sister.

I hesitate to call myself worthless, because I’ve taken scum as equal as those that would be deemed ‘good’ in some eyes. It doesn’t matter because I was worthless to Alyson. What's important now, is I don't fail Max like I did my sister. It’s not even been two full days since my heart started beating again, and I know if it stops again, I’ll be joining Alyson beyond this existence. The moment her life support was cut, so was mine. But, the moment Max called me Big Guy, it was like I had been shocked back to the land of the living. Now, I just need to give the reason for that a fighting chance. She’s here for a reason. No one runs through the mazes for nothing. Max doesn’t strike me as the kind to need or want money, she gave me Troy’s pot of gold—I hate myself for referring to it in that way—indication enough she could care less. She sees Troy as my friend, and risked me giving it back to him.

“Jun.” I drag my dark gaze to him. “Sit down. If you interfere, I will kill you.” His chest heaves as he clenches his fists at his sides. He was a martial arts teacher in his previous life, but took advantage of his position, and would hurt his students until nearly putting them into the hospital. One day he took it too far, killing a twelve-year-old boy and fleeing before the police could get him.

“I was going to punish her for touching you. That when I was done with her, you wouldn’t want her, which is true! I told her she was disgusting and that you could never love or want someone like her, I mean who would?! You deserve better than that! She can't give you want you need—what you want! I can—I can give you a family—She’s wasted fucking goods.” Being blinded by rage is dangerous, but that is what I am: dangerous. I don’t even remember bringing my fist back and punching her, but when I blink,

her entire nose is sunken inward. She's screaming even if I can’t quite hear it, as it sounds more like a mouse with its tail trapped under my boot. Her hands are shaking around her face, fearful of touching it to exacerbate the pain. When I drag my gaze to Jun, he is shaking, his gaze dragging from Marcella, straight to me. “You will watch or die with her,“ I seethe, and whatever he sees in my eyes keeps him frozen in terror. “Please don’t do this—” when she begins begging, I return my attention to her. “Choose me, I’m better—” “Better off dead.” When the words slip from my mouth, her eyes filled with tears, round, and she’s shaking her head so ferociously I can hear the soft pops in her neck that accompanies it.

I grab hold of the bottom of her mouth, and in an action that makes Jun gasp, I separate her jaw, breaking the joint where the top and bottom connect. I’m not surprised when I begin hearing Jun begin to vomit, his heaving more disgusting than what I’m looking at now. Her eyes roll back, and her entire body goes into a vibration. Her scream not as ear piercing as before, her mouth slacked open. “That’s better,” I murmur, and dive into my pocket. Am I sick for still holding onto Max’s undies from our first encounter in the Hall of Mirrors? No, I don’t think so. Wrapping the fabric around my fingers, I grab at the tip of her tongue. I slice at the frenulum, cutting it back and releasing it so I can get a better grip. Her muffled cries as I shove my hand into her mouth is music to my ears. “Any last words?” The crazed smile that comes over me as I see tears spilling from her distant eyes,

makes me thrive. I won’t have to deal with this piece of filth ever again, and even better, Max’s name will never come from her mouth. While the irony of having Max’s underwear in her mouth is nearly as perfect as she is, I need the solid grip on her wet tongue, because with it, I pull with such force I can see her neck curve at the back. It takes nearly all my strength, but as soon as I hear the first tear, I push passed the uncomfortable strain on my muscles. I stand, and as if she is some feral beast, I place my boot onto her chest and yank. Her fight was minimal, I think I put her in shock with the breaking of her jaw.

Turning my gaze to Jun who is hunched over the couch, vomit everywhere. I roll my eyes, weak, for fuck sakes. “Get yourself together Jun.” He slowly shifts his head toward me. “I’m getting you a spoon. You

will peel her eyes out, or I’m taking yours. Comprendre?”

“I’m not sure what I was expecting,” Troy comments as I walk up to him. His head turns down, looking at his watch, before coming back to me. “Twenty-two minutes, no blood—oh, well never mind, you’ve got some—” His eyes round, “A-Are those eyes?” In a Ziplock bag, two eyeballs roll around as I raise it. “Yes, they're for Shade.” It’s only then I don’t see said wolf, I ask, “Where is he?” I swear I’m about to put him back into training if he walked away after my clear instructions. Troy laughs and gestures toward my trailer. Oh, for fuck sakes. As I’m about to go in, he grabs my attention, “Hey… real quick.” I give him the moment. “I was eavesdropping, nothing el...

“Everything. She thinks you’ll let her go when the weekend ends.” What does everything mean? I’ve already confessed in the way I know how. Love is a placeholder when you don’t know how to express to someone you care about them more than anything else. I heard Sasha on the phone tell Max she loved her, and my Little Sheep didn’t say it back. That isn’t what she wants t...

As I open the door, I swear my sigh is as long as my dick is. “Oh—” I’ve never had Shade in my trailer, and there is a reason for that. He is nearly as tall as I am on his hindlegs. Currently, he is sprawled across the couch, Max laying on his belly while Sasha half-nervously pets at his tail. “You’re back. That was kind of quick.”

Sasha,” I call to her and she straightens her back as if coming to attention. “Come here.” This space is too small for four people and a fucking wolf. She does come to me, but has to maneuver around Max and Shade. “Take these outside.” The moment I put the plastic Ziplock bag into her hand with Marcella’s eyes, she throws her hand up and screams. “Oh my GOD!” I’m utterly taken aback by her reaction. I could swear she would have enjoyed this as much as Max is. My Little

Sheep has widened eyes and a smile on her face. “Are those real?!” I groan, “Yes, they are real.” Sasha has her arms around Troy’s neck, and he looks pleased with himself. “Don’t worry lass—” “Stop with the accent.” I command, and he immediately clears his throat. “Don’t worry,” he croons. “They won’t bite.” With a deep roll of my eyes, I bend over and grab the bag Shade has his nose brushing against. “Troy, take her outside with these. Sasha, feed them to Shade.” While he may never listen to her, at least he will come to recognize her as a friend, and the more he is around Max, the familiarity of those whom are around her will seep into him.

With a wink, I reach into my pocket and pull-out Marcella’s tongue. Carved right on top is: ‘Max’. Taking her chin into my hand, I bring her gaze up to mine before she can take the tongue. “A reminder to you, and warning to those that will hurt you, even with their words. Death is all that awaits them.

“Draven, I’m a med student. Having a severed tongue in my hand isn’t the worst thing that’s been there.” Dropping it gently into my grasp he leans in, kissing the top of my head. Such an endearing action from someone who murders people for me.

“Who is it that you wanted?” I roll my lips together before responding, “You.” “Good girl.” I’m pretty sure my pussy winks.

He’s the biggest walking red flag I may ever come across, one that isn’t in the books I read at home. He’s everything I know I should stay away from but when he looks at me like he does, touches me and makes

me actually feel something. I find myself fighting to stay put.

“I was born not to conform to what everyone would deem a good child. I was committing felonies at the ripe age of ten. It wasn’t because I had a bad upbringing, my parents were wealthy, good people. They tried to give me everything they thought I needed but…“ I shrug slightly, “some kids are just not meant to be tamed.” It gets a soft laugh out of Max, but I can see she’s watching intensely. It’s like I can read the hope in her eyes, as deep as the forest we met in, and for that, I continue. I need her to trust me, and that I will give her everything if she will only allow for it. “My sister was six when we had to move for my parents work. The furthest north of Seattle you could go, which is where I learned French,” I brush my elbow against her, “and some Spanish. “They began working a lot more, and that’s when I ‘turned my life around’, you could say. Alyson needed me, and it gave me a sense of purpose I was lacking. I would take her to her softball practices, watch all of her games, made sure she was capable of having the life she deserved.

I do feel a sense of calm when she touches me, in a way.

“She was fiercely independent. A fire in her I knew she got from me, but she was gentle. Where I’d swing a fist, she would… talk it out. She loved to talk.“ I lean my head down, a playful smile pulling at the corner of my lips. “Like someone I’ve recently met…” Her elbow meets my arm, but she doesn’t say anything. “When she was sixteen,” I continue, not wanting to find some excuse to stop. “She went on her first date. I hadn’t met the guy, she begged me not to do a background check—” I shift uncomfortably. “I always did one on all her friends.” I can tell Max later about my world under the one Alyson saw, because while I am as strong as I am now because of my time here with the Midnight Menagerie, it began well before. “She was strateg...