He reached for the knife.
Julie’s words failed to penetrate the complicated network of neuro transmitters in his brain telling him that this behavior was ok. She didn’t believe in demons and being possessed but with the angry bloodshot eyes glaring and the odd way he was hunched, her mind had a hard time resisting the idea.
“Jaxon, please,” she pleaded desperately, tears trailing down her face. Her eyes scoured the kitchen hoping for any easily accessible form of defense.
Jaxon lunged and Julie barely ducked out of the way in time, sliding over the island and taking the cutting board to the ground with her. A groan escaped her mouth but the adrenaline kicked in just as he pounced a second time and she flipped onto her back, using the board as shield.
Her screaming matched Jaxson’s sadistic laughter as she struggled to break free. The pain of several jabs weakened her will and fear paralyzed her lungs, the screams suddenly catching in her throat. With each jolt of movement her body protested in bursts of agony.
The sirens blared in the distance but Julie didn’t know if she could make it much longer. Her extremities began to feel cool and numb, her eyes heavy and withdrawn. The last image she saw before passing out were the eyes of her killer, wide with glee. Her killer had won.
And she had lost.