Ch. 9 –

Kryssi's lungs burned with exertion as she gasped at the humid air and ran blindly into the depths of the forest. She couldn't go back to the people who had lied to her. What would they care? Branches scraped the brunette's face and tree roots tripped her flying feet, as if they were attempting to slow her down. She knew she couldn't run forever, but what did eventually stop her was a complete and painful surprise.

SNAP! Kryssi went down hard, a cry of agony tearing from her parted lips. She looked back over her shoulder, only to scream again at the sight. She was caught in a bear trap, the metal prongs biting mercilessly into the flesh and bone of her left ankle. The pain was horrible. Kryssi screamed and whimpered and sobbed for help as her blood soaked into the dirt and the torn fabric of her camo pants. She tried to pull her leg out, fumbling with shaking fingers at the vicious trap, but it only helped to increase her torture. She could even see the twisted, broken bone of her ankle, held together only by precarious strands of flesh, muscle, and tendon. Twice she had to turn away from her futile attempts at freedom to gag and heave up what little food she'd eaten by the campfire into a small clump of bushes. I'm gonna die… she thought, tears streaming down her cheeks as her vision grew fuzzy from the loss of blood. Out loud, a low moan escaped her chafed throat while her fingers dug into the soft, blood-drenched soil. She sat half propped on her arms, her lower half resting, uncomfortably twisted, upon the litter-strewn forest floor and her caught leg throbbing with pain. Dimly she heard the sound of footsteps behind her, and she did turn her head, but her consciousness was fading and in the dim light of a crescent moon she could only make out a silhouette.

"Jason…" she whispered hoarsely. It took her only moments to recognize his bulky, massive frame, and pathetically she reached out to him for help, collapsing to the ground when her other arm wouldn't support her weight. As he approached her, a soft rain began to fall around them. It was no storm, but it was enough to turn the dirt around Kryssi's body to mud. It seeped onto her skin and into her wound, making her whimper with pain. Jason knelt by her side, turning her onto her back to get her face out of the pooling moisture. His touch was so gentle, so unlike the vicious killer he could be. He moved her body gingerly, as if handling the most fragile china doll, and when he moved to release the torturous trap that held her tethered to the earth, he touched her shoulder comfortingly.

But no amount of soft caresses could deaden the agony that swept through the young brunette's body as the older man quickly released the lever, yanked the jaws open, and pulled her free, leaving behind only torn fragments of fabric and flesh. She opened her mouth to scream, but her exhaustion and lack of blood only allowed her to yelp brokenly. She twisted away from the horrible trap, gasping at the cool night air and gouging her fingers into the mud as she attempted to still her quaking body. Jason lifted her easily into his arms and carried her away, cradling her against his chest as if she were a child. She was surprised at his consideration, but in her present state she couldn't fully appreciate his kindness. So with the gentle rocking motion that his long, measured steps created, the teen sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.

"Uhh…" Kryssi moaned and tossed her head restlessly, her heavy lids peeling back unwillingly. The brunette felt like she could have slept for weeks and still be tired, but something seemed different, and even through her unfocused, sleep-hazed mind, she wanted to know what.

With another low groan she sat up and ran shaky fingers through her tangled hair, her focus suddenly snapping to attention when she found the tresses clean and damp, as if her hair had been washed. Then she looked down and discovered that the clothes adorning her body were not her own. Before she had been wearing work-worn camouflage pants, a simple black t-shirt, and scuffed up combat boots. But now a too-large, faded grey shirt hung limply from her shoulders and a similarly baggy pair of worn jeans graced her waist and legs. A knotted rope encircled her hips to keep the pants from falling down. Gingerly Kryssi took the neckline of the shirt and pulled it over her nose, giving her the comical expression as if she'd just smelled something bad. But on the contrary, when she inhaled deeply, she could only smell Jason. His scent was woodsy; earthy. It wasn't bad, she noted, it just smelled as if he'd spent his whole life in a forest… which, he had.

But then her face flushed as she thought of just how she had gotten into Jason's clothes. She also noticed that her ankle had been set and bound. The cloth bandage was slightly discolored, but this place wasn't exactly a hospital; so she was grateful for what she had. Her skin was also clean, free of mud and blood and the leafy rot that covered the forest's floor.

He must have… she thought, letting the sentence trail off while her skin turned a deeper shade of red. But why go through all this trouble? she then wondered. Before he had kept her chained to the wall, and his demeanor had been cold and distant. Now she was settled comfortably on the same mattress as before, but with a thin blanket covering her legs. She wasn't chained, and he had cleaned her. Why? Was it because she was somewhat like him? Deformed and shunned by the people she had trusted?

Thinking about her former friends sent a pang of sadness through her heart and she curled her legs up to her chest, wincing at the pain in her ankle. A tear escaped and rolled down her face, followed quickly by another, and another. She was sobbing full out when Jason strode around the corner.