Chapitre 22: Chapter 22nd
My foot slid backwards automatically, half-turning. Chris advanced in a single smooth stride, hand in the air, stopping as I stopped – some sort of game.
He pursed his lips, detaining a mocking smile as his brow furrowed slightly. "What are you doing?" he halted me, carefully, friendly still… but with a stance that promised this was about to change if I carried on. "…You're not gonna try it, are you? The door?"
His confident, snickering smile… it distracted me from the very subtle, very slow approach he enforced.
"Surely you don't think you're that resourceful, do you? Maybe I shouldn't have encouraged you…"
His hand, slowly closing in, held out, like a peace gesture, urging me to stay calm… stay still… hypnotizing, captivating … as if I was some animal. Weren't we all, when this much scared? I clenched my fists.
"Come now, Abby…" the corners of his lips flicked "No funny tricks, remember?" he pursued, a sport his meek eyes played as they tested my resistance "I mean… why do this? Why fight it, when… well, you know you like me… We both know it." He raised an eyebrow in that charming way… the one that never failed to send butterflies to my stomach. This time, they were there too, but for the wrong reasons.
"So… what's the point? It can't be so bad… Maybe you'll even like it." He schemed. "Of course… you won't know until you try."
'It' – that single title-less insinuation did it: it opened the gates that barred a flood of panic. I turned abruptly to the door.
Chris was right: it was locked. I had seen him do it, I was no fool… But if he was putting in the effort to try and pull me willingly to himself, it could only mean I stood a chance – some sort of chance. I crashed against the door, simultaneously jumping and slamming my palms against it, screaming as loud as I could for help.
It didn't last though – the effort. Was it even a second before Chris got me? I felt myself swing, thrown balanceless across the corridor and away from the door.
I fell on my side and skidded a couple of meters, then turned quickly to understand what force had brought me down.
Chris stood there, bigger, taller, stronger than I remembered from before considering I'd have to best him. With a sigh and a reproachful shake of the head, he tried to contain what the corners of his mouth couldn't – excitement.
"I wish you hadn't done that."
I moaned, fear spiking, and began kicking the floor launching myself forward as I tried to stand up and run at the same time, resulting in some form of a rushed crawl through the floor. But I knew he'd get me – the anticipation instilled me with further panic.
I reached for the handset of the destroyed phone, and had it in my hand in time for Chris when he pulled me by the shoulder, forcing me around. I swung at him with it, but he stopped my wrist before it could come down. One effortless squeeze of his fingers and I screamed, letting go of the improvised weapon. I slapped him, then. Slapped the air, the wall, whatever I could hit. I kicked, too, and stomped.
My efforts annoyed, but didn't faze him: holding out his hand to protect his face from my flimsy blows, he lowered himself, holding me down and sitting on my hips, fully immobilizing my lower half, while the upper one fiercely struggled. That didn't last either: he captured my fighting wrists and forced them down, straining my hardened muscles and wrenching a scream from me.
Having proved the ease of subduing me, as promised, Chris stopped to breathe a slightly haggard breath, coppery locks of his hair going unkempt and falling over his eyes, the same eyes that peered into mine with a now reflective, dissipated look:
"I can't say I didn't expect that…" he panted lightly. His hands, which seemed to relax, hardened again as soon as I moved about, squirming idiotically on the floor, beneath him. "But you've done it now: your part. Tried your best, did all you could, yada yada… Now, is that all out of your system?" he smiled, teasing my terror "Let's get you somewhere comfortable where we can talk…" He balanced himself to stand, pulling me with him.
"NO!" I screamed, trying desperately to stay down.
"Come on…" Chris grunted, pulling me up regardless.
"HELP!!" I screamed again, as loud as I could muster, with my throat strangled with rigid fear 'HELP!!!'
I couldn't guess how far my scream had travelled, or who was around to hear it before Chris clasped my jaw, efficiently silencing me against his palm.
Briefly enjoying the freedom of my arms again as he focused on silencing me, I grabbed his face – whatever part of him I could reach, really – and tried I know not what – push him? Pull? Finally, scratch. I closed my eyes and pulled at his hair as hard as I could. I heard him groan, then huff, clench his jaw as our arms struggled together; and though I flailed mine slapping the air and everything I could reach as spasmodically as I could, it was only a matter of time until Chris had secured them, using his far superior strength to hold them down by standing behind me and wrapping one arm around my torso, while the other one snaked around me to secure my silence.
Still, it wasn't breezy for him – I wouldn't let it! It wasn't with a smile on his face that he subdued me, not anymore. His jaw was clenched, his lips stretched over his teeth and his eyes narrowing under a frown as I still found a way to struggle, pushing against the walls of the corridor, slamming myself there as often as I could, and eventually returning to the floor, as balance failed me.
Chris wouldn't pass on the chance of pinning me down – with both his arms stretched down, he secured me against the floor – one hand covering my mouth, the other locking both my wrists over my chest.
"You're done!" He declared, panting as he peered annoyedly into my eyes.
But I wasn't over. Sore as I was, I still wasn't entirely exhausted. I folded my legs up to my chest, then proceeded to kick him on the knee, forcing it outward with such abruptness that it just might break a lesser man's leg. But Chris was no lesser man, and though it robbed him of balance, dropping him on his side, I knew he'd be up again in no time.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone