In Laymon's Terms

And then he was laughing at her. She could hear it loud above the wind, a guttural, deep, manic laugh that didn’t stop. It seemed to be all around her now, surrounding her on all sides.

Stop it, stop! Leave me alone!

Fiona put her hands to her ears and closed her eyes, willing and praying for the sound to stop.

But the laughter continued, as did the wind and the sound of the trees all around her.

“Time to die, bitch!”

She opened her eyes just in time and saw him running towards her, out of the darkness from between the trees.

She fumbled with the revolver, took aim and squeezed the trigger.

The sound was loud and shattered the night.

She watched him jerk to a stop and then stagger slowly backwards, as the blood quickly grew on his chest. Her eyes met his as he reached out to her before falling backwards onto the ground.

Andrew hit the ground hard, partly disappearing back into the darkness between the trees.

No!

Fiona dropped the gun.

Oh, Andrew! Oh fuck! No! Please no!

The silence returned to the night. The wind continued its dance with the trees.

And Andrew lay dead in front of her.

All she could see were his feet and legs. The rest of him disappeared into the darkness.

What have I done? Andrew, oh shit, I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was him, I thought it was the person I saw out in the night. I didn’t know it would be you! I didn’t know. I’m so sorry! I didn’t want it to happen like this. Oh, Andrew, I’m so fucking sorry.

She found herself standing, no longer leaning on the hood of the car. Slowly, she took a step closer towards him. Carefully, she moved further into the night.

Andrew’s body jerked for a second.

Fiona let out a short shriek and stopped in her tracks, but Andrew lay still again.

Oh Jesus, what have I done? It can’t have happened like this!

She crept forward another step, and then another.

No no! Please no, don’t let this happen. No!

With every step, she could see more of Andrew. His hips, his blood-soaked shirt covering his stomach and chest, his arms flung out to the side of his body.

Tears filled Fiona’s eyes as she crept closer. She was shivering more now, the cold night making her teeth clatter, the trees swaying over Andrew’s body.

She fell to her knees by his side.

“No,” she whispered as she reached out to try and stop the blood pumping from his chest.

She leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. But his blank expression stared unmoving back at her. She couldn’t kiss him. She just couldn’t do it.

Fiona threw herself backward, away from the corpse and tried to stand, but her legs just wouldn’t work, none of her limbs would work.

She filled her lungs to scream, but a hand slammed across her mouth and cut off any chance.

She was pulled backwards by her hair and dragged until she could stand. She was leaning against someone, she could feel the body behind her, hear his breathing and feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back. She could also feel the large erection digging into her from behind.

“I told you I’d gut you wide and slice right through your little cunt,” the voice whispered in her ear.

She tried to struggle, but he was too strong.

“And your little hero boyfriend isn’t gonna stop me now.”

She wanted to turn around and look into the eyes of the man who held her, but he wouldn’t let her. He was too strong.

His left hand was still across her mouth. She had to breathe through her nose to remain conscious.

His right hand appeared from behind her.

It was holding a large hunting knife. Blood smeared and dripped from the blade as he brought it closer to her, running its edge down and through her cheek, deeply slicing it in two.

She tried to scream through the pain, but his hand wouldn’t let her.

“Time to die, princess,” he whispered.

And she knew he was right.

The knife traveled down her body, slicing her shirt in two and quickly sawing through her jeans. She tried to struggle, but it was no good. In what seemed like only seconds, he cut the jeans away from her legs and tore her panties from her hips.

“Now, if you scream, I’ll slice the skin from your body, piece by piece before I plunge this knife right through the back of your skull,” he whispered. “If you don’t scream, you’ll only feel my cock, and then I promise I’ll kill you quickly and with little pain. Deal?”

Fiona nodded her head slowly, trying not to cry.

Slowly, he removed his hand from her mouth.

Fiona gulped in the air, forcing herself to think clearly and not to panic.

His hand traced down the side of her body, feeling her soft, cold flesh.