Prologue

“This is kidnapping!” I exclaimed for about the thousandth time. I spat out a stray leaf and some dirt that had somehow made its way into my mouth.
“You’re hardly a child,” he muttered, wrestling me back up the slope. “At least that’s not what your weight suggests.” He grunted for emphasis as he hauled me another foot towards the top of the bank I’d fallen off in my bid for escape. Despite the situation I was in I found myself inexplicably offended by his snide comment.
“Maybe you’re just a bit on the weak side,” I snarled back. After all, I was barely average height and on the thin side at that.
“And as I’ve informed you many times now, it’s for your own good,” he finished, ignoring my jab.
Yeah, right I thought bitterly. That’s what all good killers said just before they snuffed you. I looked around, desperate for something to help turn things in my favour. No such luck. Being the dead of night, I could barely make out his vice like grip around my middle, let alone the surrounding woods. Mental note to self: next time you get kidnapped, try escaping when you can see more than three feet in any direction. That way you won’t fall off the bank you had no idea was there until you were halfway down it. Ha! Like there was going to be a next time. The thought penetrated my mind before I could stop it. The harsh truth. Nothing I did now could help me. My mind went into overdrive imagining all the possible outcomes of my predicament. Sadly, none of them ended well. The worst part was I couldn‘t even scream. There was nobody around to hear me. We were utterly alone in the wilderness. In a minute, he was going to drag me back to that tiny crumbling house in the middle of nowhere - in the middle of the woods in the middle of nowhere - and kill me. Slowly and painfully. I was sure of it. But that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for him. No, I’d be damned if I was just going to lay down and take it.
With renewed vigour, I started to struggle, sweat coating my body from the physical exertion. If I could just get him to loosen his grip, I’d have a chance. Twisting every which way, I prayed for a miracle.
“Stop struggling or I’ll eat you,” he growled into my ear. Again with that abnormal threat. Psycho serial killer didn’t even begin to cover it. The guy was certifiably insane. And I did not want to become his dinner. Being eaten by a cannibalistic freak was not on the list of things I wanted to experience in my lifetime.
Becoming increasingly exhausted and running out of breath, I tried another tactic. I immediately went limp, causing him to almost drop me. He staggered sideways a few steps, trying to compensate for me abruptly becoming deadweight.
“Okay. What are you up to?” he asked suspiciously when he caught his balance. “Why are you so compliant all of a sudden?”
“You just said you’d eat me if I didn’t stop struggling,” I pointed out, only a hint of annoyance in my voice.
He scoffed, obviously not taken in by my attempt at innocence.
“I believe I’ve used that same threat countless times to no effect, so forgive me if I’m not delighted with your newfound enthusiasm to cooperate.”
He loosened his grip for a moment to manoeuvre me into a better hold. His mistake was that I only needed a fraction of the moment he’d given me. I whipped my legs up, braced them on a tree to my left and pushed. The force sent us both toppling over, him with a savage curse as I managed to yank myself free of his grasp. Wasting no time, I scrambled to my feet and ran up to kick him while he was getting up. With perfect aim, I landed a powerful kick right between his legs. He let out a hiss of pain and swore viciously as he collapsed, cradling his family jewels. I took the opportunity to turn tail and slide back down the bank, taking off into the dense trees. Twice, I ran directly into a hulking tree trunk, the second time almost knocking myself out. Rubbing my chin vigorously where it had hit, I kept up my fast pace, one hand thrown out in front of me to prevent anymore mishaps. It wasn’t until I was fighting for breath and black edged my vision that I stopped, leaning heavily against the trunk of a tall pine tree. Trying to ignore the crashing sound of my own heartbeat in my ears, I whipped my head around, listening for my kidnapper’s approach. Nothing. For now. I couldn’t afford to stand still for long.
So, clutching the burning stitch in my side, I wrenched myself upright and staggered forwards. I had barely taken three steps when I heard the distinct sound of a branch breaking. Only, to my horror, it was coming from in front of me. Impossible, I thought, hoping my hearing was failing me. Because even in my frantic state, I knew I hadn’t turned myself about and started heading the way I’d originally come - right into the hands of the guy out to end my life.
Again, noises came from straight ahead, and instinctively I took a half step backwards. Whatever it was, it was close. And it had the fine hairs on the back of my neck standing on edge. I took another half step back, struggling to quiet my breathing as I strained my ears for more noise that wasn’t a natural part of the outdoors. This time a burst of noise, almost like a snort, came from my left and I whipped my head in that direction, squinting my eyes in an effort to see more than six feet in front of me. The smell of wet dog assaulted my nose and I blanched, my overactive imagination putting the snort and the smell together. Oh, my god, I thought, my heart threatening to pound its way out of my chest. There was a rabid dog out here in the woods, and as I heard the distinct sound of quiet panting, my knees threatened to buckle on me. I clamped both hands over my mouth, edging quietly and quickly away, only to just about leap out of my skin as a howl sounded, not on my left as expected, but on my right. The noise rang painfully loudly around me, and before it died down, another howl joined in. So two on the right, one on the left. That makes three doggies after a snack. Always good to know you can count Jacey, I thought sarcastically. Mr. Whitmore would be so proud. Well, he couldn’t be proud if I wound up dead before I could inform him of my astounding math abilities, I argued back with myself.
Huh, I guess when you’re confronted with a probably-going-to-end-in-death scenario, you do go lose your mind. Make that a definitely-going-to-end-in-death scenario. And with that thought in mind, I let loose a bloodcurdling scream and ran - much faster than I had when I was trying to escape the human predator after me. By some small miracle I managed to avoid running face first into any of the trees, and flew over the dank forest, my footsteps pounding loudly despite the absorbent foliage beneath my feet. Ahead of me, I could just make out the sound of someone cursing, and surprisingly, relief flooded me. You’re crazy, my mind screamed at me. Undoubtedly, considering I was willing to take the cannibalistic psycho serial killer over the rabid man-eating dogs, who were gaining fiercely.
Please don’t turn and run, I chanted in my head as the swearing got louder.
Turned out I completely misjudged how far away Hannibal Lecter was, crashing into him with a loud crack that had us both tumbling several feet across the mucky ground.
Dazed, I briefly forgot the impending danger, holding onto my throbbing head with both hands.
Beside me, Hannibal moaned. “That’s it. I quit,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Corban can find himself some other idiot to blackmail, because this idiot has decided it is not nearly worth the effort.”
Before I could ask if the nonsense he was mumbling was the result of me concussing him, another howl sounded accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of paws running through the trees, and dear God they sounded like they were almost upon us.
I grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Okay, Hannibal,” I said - well, screamed would be more accurate. No sense in being quiet when the doggies obviously knew we were here and there was now nowhere to run. “If you get us out of this, I swear I’ll be as compliant as you want. Please, if it’s between being eaten by rabid dogs or you, I choose you!”
In the darkness, I could just make out his confused expression. “Hannibal? What’s a Hannibal?”
I opened my mouth to respond but the words never made it past my lips. Instead, I was yanked sideways as one of the dogs soared overhead, his sharp teeth narrowly missing my left cheek. As it was, a dollop of dog drool landed on my face, his doggy breath making me want to gag. Like a rag doll I was dragged to my feet and hauled backwards. It was about this moment my mind decided it was going to take a vacation, all coherent thoughts and control of bodily movements escaping me. Oh, wait, I take that back. It had one last thing to offer before it went bye-bye: Girl, I hope you’re wearing clean underwear - because you’re about to die.

Author's Note

This is just a draft - the writing is not up to my usual standards, and I'm not entirely sure if I will even keep the prologue. Just needed a starting point and this was it.