Chapter 5
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He turned and left the bathroom, heavy footsteps thundering down the hallway.
Linda's lips curled into a cold, knowing smile.
She knew Steven's memory was pathetic—he couldn't even remember her bare face, let alone the faces of all the girls he'd defiled.
On that rainy night four years ago, Jessica had boarded the bus home, heart full of hope.
The bus broke down at the forest's edge, passengers grumbling as they scattered to find other ways home.
Jessica decided to cut through the forest—the shortest route back to Grandma Betty.
The sky suddenly poured rain, and her clothes were quickly soaked.
Lost on the town outskirts, she spotted lights from the largest house around and headed toward it.
A middle-aged woman—Margaret—welcomed the shivering Jessica inside with practiced warmth.
The woman handed her a towel and steaming tea, eyes assessing Jessica with unusual intensity.
"My, what a beautiful young woman. Exactly my son's type," Margaret remarked, her tone deceptively casual.
After sipping the tea, Jessica felt an unnatural dizziness wash over her.
Her vision blurred, limbs turning to lead as consciousness slipped away.
Margaret's kindly smile morphed into a cold, triumphant smirk.
"Steven! Son, mother's found you a new bride from the city," she heard the woman call upstairs.
Later, Jessica awoke in a freezing basement, wrists and ankles bound with coarse rope. Steven loomed over her, unbuckling his belt with a predatory grin.
Fear gave her strength, and two days later, she gnawed through the ropes and fled the basement while no one watched.
She staggered into the forest, angry shouts pursuing her through the trees.
Steven was drunk but determined, hunting his escaping prey with single-minded focus.
Beneath an ancient oak, he finally caught up to Jessica, her strength completely spent.
"Please," Jessica sobbed, "let me go. I won't tell anyone." Her grandmother's face flashed before her—the old woman still waiting for her return.
Not a flicker of mercy showed in Steven's eyes as his hands closed around her throat.
Jessica's struggles weakened, her eyes filled with desperate, fading hunger for life.
The ancient oak stood silent witness to the tragedy, moonlight casting cold indifference upon the struggling figures below.
