Trapped in the Mind's Games

(Third Person POV)

Mort had decided to obey the voices in his head after much debate and attempt to move the dresser that covered the secret window that looked out into his secret garden; the place where the two most deadly secrets lay buried underneath the huge stalks of corn. He didn't understand why he should move the dresser, but his thoughts obviously had a reason. But, before he had fully removed the dresser from in front of the window, he heard a small creak in the wooden floorboards downstairs. He rushed to the railing of the loft, and saw Riley with her hand nearly on the doorknob.

'You can't let her get away!' his thoughts echoed in his brain, 'Shooter will surely come after her if she escapes. If she stays…then maybe Shooter will vanish.'

"STOP!" Mort screamed for her to stop, but she bolted out of the door.

Not having any time to spare, Mort skipped half the steps on the long wooden staircase and skidded onto the porch, turned abruptly to the right, and saw the screen door where he, or Shooter, had found Riley the night before, swinging shut. He dashed through the doorway, seeing Riley sprinting for her dear life just a few yards up ahead.

Flip-flops were not the ideal shoes to be wearing when running for one's life, so Riley, as she ran down the rocky driveway, slid them off her feet. A relieving smile passed her lips when she saw a white truck drive by the driveway, but then she knew that he hadn't seen her. Determined to reach the end of the driveway before Mort reached her, she picked up her pace.

"You dropped your flip-flops!" Mort shouted after her concernedly, and picked them up as he ran after her.

Riley could now hear Mort's breathing behind her he was so close. His speed was no match for hers since she wasn't the least bit athletic and had never been involved in any sort of sport her entire life. She had done dance for almost ten years, but after her parents died and she moved out to Tashmore Lake with Daniel, she never thought to pick up dance again. After all, they didn't have the money anyway. How she wished that instead of dance she had done soccer. She could've at least outrun the grown man.

Though Mort had been really nice to her, he had even admitted that people spoke ill of him behind his back. Now that she wasn't drunk anymore, she realized the danger that she had put herself in and wished that she hadn't been so stupid.

"You can't leave! It's for your own good!" Mort cried desperately, his voice booming in Riley's ears.

'RUN FASTER!' she screamed inside. Her bare feet ached as they pounded against the rocky driveway, but her destination was right up ahead. She prayed (for the first time in years) that a car would drive by when she reached the end. Her green eyes were locked on the end of the driveway, causing her to not see the large rock that was unfortunately in her running path.

"Rock," Mort said quietly, but he was so close behind Riley that she could hear his soft voice. However, the word didn't register in her brain until after her toes banged up against the rock, and as she fell, her ankle twisted. Her ankle seared in pain, and Riley let out a painful scream. Tears developed in her eyes when she realized that her escape plan had failed and Mort knelt beside her.

"Ouch," Mort muttered while staring at her twisted ankle. "You're getting pretty banged up, Riley," he said with a smile.

"Please, Mr. Rainey," Riley sobbed, "I promise I won't tell anyone that I was here—just let me go home! Please! I swear to God that I'll never mention this—"

Mort listened to the girl's pleas, and he was surprised that he hadn't started tearing up as well because she looked so upset. He wished that he could let the girl go, but he knew he couldn't. If he did, Shooter would definitely come back and search for her. A few minutes before, Mort's voices were being extremely mysterious…as if they knew something that happened last night that Mort didn't.

"I can't let you go…" Mort said regretfully, "I wish I could, I really do!"

"Then why don't you?!" Riley pleaded.

"I…I have this friend…well he's not really much of a friend…but see…he kills people," Mort said, trying to sound as cheery as he could about it, which freaked Riley out even more.

She looked down to her abnormal ankle sorrowfully, knowing that she could never escape out of his house unless it healed, and for it to heal, Mort would have to heal it. It was so complicated, and now that she knew that one of Mort's "friends" was a murderer, she wasn't necessarily in the best of moods. In fact, she was terrified and in the most pain that she had ever been in before. The gash on the back of her head throbbed, and her ankle was practically disconnected from her body.

"But no one knows we're out here, not even your friend!" Riley protested, refusing to give up her life.

"He'll find a way…oh he'll find a way," Mort said reassuringly with a smile.

"Why the hell are you smiling?! There's a murderer after you, and now me, and you are smiling! What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Riley screamed. She didn't care that she was freaking out anymore.

"A lot of things…" Mort said softly, then grabbed Riley unexpectedly and threw her over his shoulder. "I've got to fix your ankle."

"LET ME GO!" she yelled, pounding against his back, trying to free herself, but she was a pretty tiny girl, and couldn't get out of his tight hold around her legs. Tears streaming down her cheeks, and a heavy heart sitting in her chest, she entered Mort's haunting cabin once again.