Emily clutched her wounded arm, blood slipping through her fingers.
The pain was deep—burning—but she stayed conscious, breathing through it.
Anthony lay on the ground after being slammed aside by the Mask Man.
A brutal kick crashed into Anthony's face.
The force snapped his head back, dragging him halfway back into awareness. He groaned, barely conscious.
The Mask Man turned to Emily.
"The time for comedy is over," he said coldly. "All of this ends now."
Anthony's blurred vision cleared just enough to understand one horrifying truth.
Emily was standing with the Mask Man.
The realization struck harder than the blow.
The Mask Man stepped toward Anthony and reached down, gripping him to lift him up—
But Anthony wasn't done yet.
The instinct to survive was still inside him.
With a sudden burst of strength, he swung a hard punch.
It landed.
The impact staggered the Mask Man backward.
Mask Man had a gun.
Also had a knife.
But he didn't use either.
Why?
Was he holding back—or planning something worse?
Anthony seized the moment and kicked the Mask Man's wounded leg.
A sharp scream tore through the lone forest.
The Mask Man staggered—and deliberately tossed his gun and knife away.
He glanced at Emily.
"Don't interfere, Emmy."
Pain twisted into rage.
Fury flooded his veins, drowning out everything else.
The Mask Man lunged.
Punch after punch crashed into Anthony—relentless, merciless, savage.
Each blow heavier than the last.
Anthony tried to fight back, but his body gave in.
His vision blurred.
Darkness swallowed him.
He collapsed—unconscious.
The Mask Man stood over him, breathing hard.
He didn't kill him.
Why?
What was his final plan?
The question hung in the air—unanswered.