CHAPTER 4:The Attack

Scarlett's POV

I moved slowly away from the window, making sure my footsteps were completely silent on the damp grass so the guy I was peeping on inside the room wouldn't notice a thing. My heart was racing, but I forced my face to stay completely blank.

The safe way to get out of this was to answer this blue-eyed intruder who was busy intruding in my business. He stood tall, blocking the paved pathway.

"Who are you and what are you looking for?" he asked again. He adjusted a heavy sports bag on his broad shoulder, the thick canvas making a rough scraping sound against his jacket. His blue eyes narrowed at me with clear suspicion, studying my face like he was trying to memorize it.

"Uhm, I'm nobody. I just missed my way," I lied smoothly. I turned and walked away really fast before he could engage further or ask any more questions. The back of my neck prickled, feeling his intense stare following me as I put distance between us.

When I got to the end of the paved path, I turned to look back over my shoulder. I saw him open the door and head straight into the exact same apartment.

"That was close," I whispered to myself, letting out a heavy breath I didn't know I was holding. My hands were slightly clammy. I slowed my pace, blended in with the few students walking around the bustling campus, and headed back to the dorm.

When I pushed the door open to my room, my roommate was already there. Her bags were scattered across the floor, and she was busy hanging clothes in the small closet. The room smelled strongly of sweet vanilla perfume and unpacking dust.

"Hello," I said as I walked in.

"Hi!" she responded immediately, turning around with a massive, bright smile on her face. "How long have you arrived?"

"Just this afternoon," I responded, setting my keys down on my desk.

"My name is Mia, by the way," she said, extending a hand.

"Scarlett," I said, taking it briefly. Her hand was soft, completely different from my calloused fingers.

"Scarlett. That is such a nice name," she said. I just nodded, not really used to the bubbly energy she was radiating. It filled the small space entirely.

"It's nice meeting you," I said to be polite.

"I hope we get along!" she responded cheerfully.

I stood by my bed for a while, just watching her pull more things out of her boxes, and then I stepped in and helped her unpack. As we worked, she just kept talking. She didn't need me to say much; she easily filled the silence for both of us with the rustle of plastic bags and zipping luggage.

Some of the things she shared were necessary information, like her class schedule and what side of the room she preferred, but other things made me wonder why she was telling me at all. I had just met her less than an hour ago, and I already knew that her first boyfriend was a terrible kisser, and that she broke up with her most recent boyfriend right before coming to Ravenwood cause he cheated on her with a girl from his biology class.

I already know she is going to be a handful.

We went to the dining hall to get dinner together later that evening. The hall was loud, packed with laughing students and the clatter of silverware. She talked so naturally and linked her arm through mine, to the point that the other girls at our table actually thought we had known each other for years before coming to Ravenwood.

Well... I also doubt I just met her hours ago. Her energy was overwhelming, but it was a perfect cover. Nobody would look at me sitting there listening to boy drama and suspect what I was actually planning to do tonight. I kept my face relaxed, even though my mind was already actively replaying the layout of Hawthorne Row.

...

By 11 PM, the dorm room was completely dark, and Mia was already fast asleep, her soft breathing filling the quiet room. I lay on my back for a few minutes, listening to the silence of the building to make sure the hallways were clear.

I slipped out of bed quietly. The floorboards felt cold against my bare feet. I dressed up in a pair of dark black jeans and a thick black hoodie. I pulled my pants up, slid my cold metal hunting knife securely into the sheath strapped tight to my thigh, and snuck out of the room.

I moved through the hallways like a ghost. I bypassed every surveillance camera in the dorm building, knowing exactly where their blind spots were, and went out through the heavy entrance at the very back of the building.

The night air was freezing, biting at my exposed cheeks. I walked quickly through the thick shadows of the campus until I reached 8 Hawthorne Row. The apartment was completely silent. The only sound was the wind rustling the tall hedges. I adjusted my hoodie, pulling the strings tight around my face, as I went in through the exact same window I had seen this afternoon.

I slipped over the ledge and landed softly on the floor inside. The room was empty and pitch dark. The air inside smelled faintly of clean soap and male cologne.

I was highly conscious of my movements, making sure my shoes didn't make a single sound against the floorboards. I reached down and pulled the knife from my thigh, the familiar weight of the handle giving me a rush of dark confidence.

Then, I heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door. Heavy, measured steps.

I quickly backed up and hid securely by the side of the heavy wooden wardrobe. I held my breath, pressing my back flat against the wood, and peeped around the edge. The door opened. The bright blue ray from a phone screen flashed, illuminating his sharp jawline in the dark. It was him. Adrian.

He didn't turn on the overhead lights. He just walked straight to the bed, the floorboards groaning slightly beneath his weight. He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and laid down on the mattress.

*Perfect.*

He laid down, facing away from me.

I waited a few seconds to let him settle. I listened to his breathing until it grew steady. Then I slid out from behind the wardrobe. I sneaked silently to the bedside, my grip tightening aggressively on the handle of my knife. I raised it high, braced my legs for the impact, and lunged forward to attack.

Nothing prepared me for the grip and the flip he did.

Before my blade even came close, his hand shot out in the dark like lightning. He grabbed my wrist with a crushing, iron grip, his fingers digging painfully into my bones, using my own momentum against me. In one smooth, violent motion, he flipped me entirely over his body and slammed me hard onto the mattress.

I gasped, the air completely knocked out of my lungs, completely shocked. We struggled fiercely. He was incredibly heavy, his muscles hard as rock pressing me down into the sheets. I underestimated him. I thought he was just a normal student, but his reflexes were dangerously trained.

The exchange continued in the dark. We rolled off the edge of the bed and crashed heavily onto the hard wooden floor. I kicked and twisted wildly, fighting desperately to free my knife hand from his iron hold. The craziest part was the absolute silence. He didn't say a word, and neither did I. We just fought viciously, breathing heavily in the dark, the rough fabric of his clothes scraping against mine, neither of us willing to make a sound that would alert anyone else in the house.

I finally managed to twist my wrist just enough. I slashed downward with all my strength. I felt the sharp blade catch and slice through fabric and warm skin. I was able to make a cut, but I knew instantly it wasn't deep enough to kill. It was on his shoulder.

He flinched sharply from the sudden pain. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, he let go of his resistance and roughly shoved me off him with massive force. I flew backward through the dark air and hit the hard side of the wooden cupboard with my ribs.

Pain flared sharply in my side, blinding and hot. It hurts bad. I tasted a bit of blood in my mouth from biting my tongue.

Before I could fully recover, I saw his large silhouette turn and head straight toward the wall switch to turn on the light.

"No, he can't see my face," I thought to myself in a sheer panic, my heart pounding violently in my ears. If he sees me, the entire mission is compromised.

I scrambled up from the floor, my side throbbing with every movement, and approached the open window to escape. He heard my heavy boots scrape the floor, stopped reaching for the light, and rushed me. His heavy hands clamped down viciously on my shoulders, trying to pin me down against the wall.

"Who the hell is this guy?" I thought to myself. He was too fast, too strong.

He wants to see my face. He was forcefully trying to turn me around to face him. I reacted on pure survival instinct. I lifted my heavy boot and stepped down as hard as I possibly could on his bare toes.

He grunted deeply in pain, and his tight grip on my shoulders softened just enough. I broke it instantly, scrambled up the wall with desperate energy, and jumped straight out the window into the cold, dark night.