Hidden Monster
Amanda Strong
Clean Teen Publishing
Contents
Also by Amanda Strong
Content Disclosure
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Inner Demons
Also by Amanda Strong
THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the authors' imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Hidden Monster
Copyright ©2014 Amanda Strong
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by: Marya Heiman
Typography by: Courtney Nuckels
Editing by: Cynthia Shepp
Also by Amanda Strong
The Monsters Among Us Series
Hidden Monster
Inner Demons
Monsters Among Us
The Watchers of Men Series
The Awakener
Holy and the Fallen
Anthology
Twists in Time
For more information about our content disclosure, please utilize the QR code above with your smart phone or visit us at www.CleanTeenPublishing.com.
Chapter 1
Step, step, breathe, breathe, step, step, breathe, breathe. My shoes kept a steady rhythm with my burning lungs. I veered off my regular path, opting to hear the crunch of the leaves beneath my feet. The image of my mom’s disapproving face was ignored as I leapt across a gurgling brook. Breathe, breathe, crunch, crunch.
If I wasn’t mountain biking, I was running. I craved speed and freedom. I had to escape the oppressive perfection of living in the Campbell home. Thinking of my two older sisters, one model and the other a star volleyball player, my legs lunged, lengthening their stride. Not good at team sports and terrified by cameras, I knew my family felt my height was wasted on me.
Even Jeremy gives me a hard time.
A stitch pinched my side. Breathe, breathe. I knew I was going too fast, not pacing myself right. Something was urging me on, pushing me to scale the hill before me, and plunge deeper into the woods. I refocused on my rhythm, my inhales and exhales, and my body realigned itself, goose bumps shooting across my arms. There it is. I’d hit my second wind and I surged on, not caring where my feet led.
It’s freedom! Complete and—
There was a rush of air, a whistling in my ear, and a sting to the back of my arm. Instantly, I tumbled to the ground, sliding into the damp morning dew. Cold dirt filled my nostrils as blackness enveloped me.
I heard my own labored breathing long before I realized I was somewhere in between awake and asleep. Forcing my eyes open, I gasped. My senses took everything in at once—the smell of wood shavings, the scratchy ropes on my wrists and ankles, and the pressure of the mattress beneath my body. I screamed, but the empty room with wooden floors and stacked logs for walls was empty. No one burst through the door in the corner.
Realizing it was useless and only making my throat raw, I fell silent. Panic flooded me. How did I get here? I pressed my thoughts to retrace my steps, but my mind felt sluggish. My last memory was running in the woods just before sunrise. I could still feel the burn from the autumn air hitting my lungs. Now the solitary window painted a yellow rectangle on the floor. The room felt stuffy. It’s probably late afternoon. But is it the same day?
The minutes rolled slowly into hours, the silence suffocating. What had my therapist said to do when I was scared? Breathe deeply and don’t panic. It was too late for that; all the years of therapy after my childhood accident were rendered useless. I’m drowning all over again. Only this time, it wasn’t water filling my lungs but pure fear and terror pressing down on my chest. I gulped in dry air, my eyes burning with tears.
No one’s coming to save me. A sob escaped me as the real horror of the situation washed over me. I’m tied up. Someone knows I’m here. What would happen when they came back? As the last rays of light were snuffed out by the shadows of the night, that someone came through the wooden door.
“Just tell me—what do you want?” I asked, knowing it was pointless. In the three weeks—or had it been longer?—of my imprisonment, I had yet to get an answer. He never spoke.
I blinked, trying to clear the blurry blob that occasionally floated across my right eye. Never having glasses before, I was annoyed by my hazy vision. I blinked again, my eyes refocusing on the figure pacing the room. What had started as a dull headache was now a hammer drumming at the back of my eye sockets. I need water. My stomach grumbled with nauseating hunger.
There was no escaping the noxious, pinstriped mattress, except for the periodic bathroom breaks, which weren’t frequent enough.
My jaw quivered, and I clamped my mouth shut. Don’t start chattering now, I commanded myself, knowing it usually ended with my whole body convulsing. October was merciless on my bare skin; my arms and legs were permanently smattered with goose bumps.
Stupid running shorts. I wished for the thousandth time I’d listened to my mom and worn a sensible sweat suit that day. The swish-swish of his warm ski parka and pants seemed to mock me, as he continued his route of six steps forward and then six steps back again.
First time in my life that I love my leg hair.
Too late, I realized it was quiet, the rhythmic swish-swish gone. In one impossible leap, he was next to me. I squeaked out in surprise. This wasn’t the first time he’d come close, but usually he ambled over, producing a long needle from his pocket.
Silently, he pressed his face against mine, the black ski mask tickling my forehead and nose. I shied away, terrified by both his touch and the change in his behavior. My bindings made my attempt to move useless, so I squeezed my eyes shut. My chest heaved up and down as my heart galloped against my rib cage. It’s ok. He’s got a needle. The pinch’s coming still. It’ll be over soon, I consoled myself.
The ski mask lifted off my face. I tried to steady my pulse, inhaling slowly. Not daring to open my eyes, I waited, but there was still no pinch. The stillness stretched on, with only his heavy breathing letting me know he was near. Never talking, the mechanic
al sounds he produced reminded me of Darth Vader. I long since decided that he was actually a human and the protruding square under his mask was just a voice modulator. He’s still a monster. His growling sounds sent chills through me.
Maybe he has food. I cracked my eyelids, peeking through feathered lashes. His body leaned over mine, elevated by knuckles planted in the mattress. Terror rippled through me. Why isn’t he drugging me? Why isn’t he drugging me? I welcomed my arm being stuck with a needle. It was my only escape from this nightmare.
With tall boots, gloves, and a long, knit mask, I hadn’t known if my abductor was male or female at first. Now with the way he moved, stared at me, and shoved water bottles and bread into my mouth, I knew he, it, was a man.
The bed lowered as he sat down next to me, his weight pulling my body toward him. The bedsores on my backside smarted at the slight shift. Even with his face covered, I could feel him ogling me. One hand reached out, stroking my matted hair down, brushing errant strands from my face. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to bite his glove. He hadn’t actually hit me before, but I didn’t want to take my chances. Maybe I should bite him. Maybe it’ll end this misery.
The breathing halted as the ski mask cocked to one side.
His voice slurred. “What do I want?” I bit my lip to keep from gasping. He’d never responded before. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I want you to fall in love with me.”
Holy freak! He’s more insane than I thought! I swallowed, forcing my dry tongue to moisten my mouth. “I’ll never love you!”
He chuckled, the sound like a horror movie. “Yes, you will. You see, I’ve always loved you, Samantha, or should I call you Sammy?”
He knows my name? Dark spots popped in my vision, and my body felt like it was floating several feet above my head. Crap, I’m going to pass out!
He touched my arm with his gloved hand.
“Don’t!” I hissed, and he instantly recoiled. Dumbstruck, I stared at the ski mask. Is he really listening to me? I didn’t want to faint or be drugged. Not if this was my one chance to talk to him. Pulse pounding in my ears, the adrenaline cleared my mind, giving me courage. “Please, I need water.”
He cocked his head to the side, as if considering, and then produced a small water bottle from his pant pocket. A gloved hand tugged my hairs out as he elevated my head, but this time, he didn’t shove the bottle against my lips. I drained it within seconds, not satiated, and wanting more.
I asked again, “What do you want? Why am I here?”
“I already told you. I want you to fall in love with me.”
“Then let me go! Untie me,” I begged as something wet tickled my lips. I licked the salty tear away.
He didn’t say anything, just sat next to me breathing.
“Who are you?” I persisted. Again, silence. “How long are you going to keep me here?”
“That depends on how long it takes.”
“For what?”
“For,” he paused, “you to love me.”
I resisted the hysterical laughter bubbling within me. He’s serious, completely psychotic, but serious.
“How can I,” I hesitated, “fall in love with someone I can’t see? Why don’t you take your mask off?”
“No!” he barked, jumping to his feet.
Relieved he was further away, I decided to push him. This might be my only chance.
“Can I know your name at least?”
“No.”
“Ok, well, how do you know me then?”
“I’ve known you a long time.”
I shuddered. “Do I know you personally?”
“Yes.” The voice modifier made it sound like a growl.
My body began shaking. “What do you want?” I whispered.
“Why do you keep asking the same question over and over? You’re smarter than this. That’s why you’re so unique, Sammy. You’re not only beautiful, you’re brilliant.”
Okay, maybe he doesn’t know me that well. I’m anything but brilliant. Stay calm. Keep him talking. “Why are you drugging me? Why can’t we just talk then?”
His sigh sounded more like a roar. “You ask too many questions, Samantha. You need to sleep now.”
“No!” But he grabbed my arm with one hand, while the other produced the all-too-familiar needle. “No,” I begged. “I can sleep without it! I don’t need it!”
“Yes, you do. I know what’s best for you. Trust me; this is for your own good. And this one is a special blend; I made it myself. You’ll sleep wonderful tonight.”
I thrashed against the ropes, but it was no use. The tip of the needle burned my skin.
He paused and then glanced down at me, his ski mask moving with his mouth. “Wait, I want to tell you something first.” I could no longer feel the point of the needle against my skin. “You are going to fall in love with me Samantha. It’s only a matter of time. You’ll be mine one day. One day you’ll lie in my arms and kiss my lips.” His gloved finger traced my lips.
I turned away and spat, “Never! I’ll never love you!”
“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re meant for each other, and no one can ever love you like I do. You were always my special girl.”
My head snapped back to glare at him. Special girl? Only one person said that to me. A sinking sensation flooded my body as I gasped, “Jeremy? Is that you?”
The needle inserted, but I no longer cared about the pinch and the burn it caused. All I knew was the scrambled voice that said, “I guess you’ll never know now, will you?”
I struggled to respond but the drug worked fast, seeping through my veins like ice-cold water hitting an empty stomach. My body welcomed it, drifting off into the black void it created.
Chapter 2
I actually had a dream, even if it was running in an endless forest, Jeremy right on my heels. Stumbling on the uneven ground, I felt arms wrap around me from behind, crushing the air out of me.
I bolted upright screaming. Wait. I’m sitting up?
Still in my one-bedroom prison with daylight coming through the window, I stared at my rope-free arms and legs. Instinctively, I hugged my knees, wincing when my wrists bumped into each other. The ropes had left raw sores behind.
Got to move. I shoved my legs over the side of the bed, but discovered even touching my feet against the ground sent waves of nausea through me. Teeth gritted, I forced myself to stand. I need to get out of here. I staggered across the floor, terrified by how weak I was. Was it just not eating or all the drugs? Thinking of those needles, I grabbed the door handle, praying the masked man wasn’t on the other side waiting. I exhaled in relief, seeing only trees and long grass.
So, it was a cabin. Once early fall set in, many summer cabins in Durango remained empty all winter. I set out as fast as my legs would allow—a wobbly gait at best. Which way? I felt disoriented and lost. Recognizing some of the mountains, I tried to gauge where I was in relation to the highway. Saying a quick prayer, I made up my mind and headed to what I hoped was north. The longer I walked, the stronger my legs became, but the more painfully my head throbbed. After what felt like an hour, I sat down on the ground, smashing my head between my hands. The pain was excruciating; I was afraid my skull might actually split open.
Have to keep moving. I pressed on. Five minutes later, I saw another cabin. I pounded on the door, but it too was vacant. So were the next four I found. Still, it comforted me cabins were appearing more frequently now. I must be getting close to the main highway. Wanting to find help, I began running but, within seconds, my body protested, lungs on fire. Gulping in deep breaths, I continued walking briskly.
Wishing I were better at interpreting the sun’s position in the sky for time, I decided if it moved a few inches, it surely meant I’d been walking for hours. Exhausted and thirsty, I collapsed to the ground. I need just a few minutes. I curled into a ball, draping my arms across my eyes, trying to shield out the light and get some relief from the migraine. It felt like seconds later that I was
back in those woods again—sprinting for my life.
I heard Jeremy yelling, “We found her! We found Samantha!”
Why’s he saying that? There was a chorus of voices shouting now. My head panged in response. Why are they so loud? Dogs were barking. Someone touched my shoulder. I jerked away, trying to sit up. My body felt glued to the ground though. I glanced up to see brown eyes gazing down at me.
Where’s the mask? And then my mind caught up to all the details. I’m lying on the ground. He’s wearing an EMT jacket. I peered around at the people gathering closer. One of the dogs was trying to reach me, its tongue hanging out, as its owner pulled back on the leash.
“The tip was good; we found her! Call her parents,” a voice yelled out from somewhere in the group. The man with brown eyes was leaning in. “Samantha, we’re here to help you. Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere? Can you understand me?”
Too many questions. I tried to slur out words. Oh my gosh, I can’t talk! What was in those stupid shots? Am I permanently brain damaged? I shook my head and then nodded, hoping he understood.
“We’re contacting your parents; they’ll be here soon. Can I put this blanket around you?”
I realized then that I was shaking uncontrollably and nodded back at him. The man helped me sit up and cloaked me in a thick blanket. I reveled in its warmth.
He held up a water bottle. “Do you think you can drink?”
I nodded, and he gently lifted the bottle to my lips. I drank fast, too fast, and after a moment, I stopped. Turning to the side, I threw it all up. I tried to apologize, but the world was spinning. The man’s face kept going in circles before me; I closed my eyes.
“We need to get you into the ambulance.” I forced my lids open to see the man with brown eyes had said it. “Can I help you stand up?”
I nodded, and he pulled me up. It seemed effortless.
Hidden Monster (The Monsters Among Us Book 1) Page 1
