"I liked you better in red."
The very same rascal who watched me shower this morning. I inhale deeply and gulp down all the unkind words my list carries for him.
"Stop it!"
"What." He laughs.
"Stop stalking me and leaving roses at my door!"
"Mmm, no! You see…" His tongue licks the candy. "You are going to be mine. To play with… to…"
"Get out!"
His deep voice slices through the silence like a sharpened blade. One I'd definitely use to sever the jerk's throat. The stalker looms small next to the imposing figure I met this morning. His blue eyes rise to meet him; his smile slips from his features.
"Nox… what? She is a fucking toy!" he removes his elbow from the counter and walks out, followed by the other two.
"Did he touch you?"
I look up at him, into his dark, irate eyes.
"He was here two days ago buying candy... left me notes and roses after… watched me shower this morning…"
Silently, he covers the cost of all the sweets and walks out of the shop.
I sprinkle a line of salt across our doorway and windows while chanting a protective spell. A spell calling upon the power of the sun to weaken them. The silver rings on my fingers start to irritate my skin. At the end, I express my gratitude to any deities or energies that may have assisted me.
I spend the night with my knife resting like a silent guardian on my chest. Twisting and turning, my legs move restlessly beneath the sheets. I am too afraid to close my eyes.
CHAPTER 2
"Neo? You have a gift."
I wrap the silky robe around my body and walk into the kitchen. A coal box with a bow in the same shade is placed on the table. Zilla is smiling. "Good morning! First flowers and notes, now gifts?"
I release the air trapped in my lungs since I left my room and I unwrap the ribbon.
"For the Moon’s sake!" Zilla screams and runs to the sink to spit out the coffee. "Are those real eyes?"
The surfaces of the box are splattered with blood. Removed from the body, the eyes are situated in precise alignment on a black cushion. The cornea is vulnerable to dehydration. The optic nerve serves no more function, atrophy occurring with every second. His once-blue irises are dimmer, gore tainting their tint. The metallic odor of copper wafts from the box, making Zilla feel nauseous again.
"I recognize them..." I look over to Zilla. "These are the eyes that watched me shower."
With the package held tight, I speed down the street hoping that nobody catches the sight of the blood. I wonder if the eyes are spinning on the cushion and slamming against the box's walls with every step I take. Stuffing it full was like trying to fill a bottomless pit. Biding my time for him to show once more, I stop in the same location we crossed paths yesterday.Should I leave the box here? What if someone else finds it… it has my fingerprints on it... Damn it!I tilt my head to look at the brick building beside me. Yesterday he came out from it.
"Mornin’, nightshade!"
His voice sends a shiver cascading down my spine. Like phantom fingers dancing lightly across every single vertebrae. I turn my head to the left, and there he is—nonchalantly settled on his sleek black dirt bike. His helmet sits firmly in place. He is a shadow in every way. As dark as night.
"What the fuck?" I approach him and hit his chest with the box. His eyes won't leave mine to look at anything else. Towering in front of me, he stands up.
"What makes you think it was me?"
"You ki… You know what’s in the box!"
"Not here." He has a haunting voice. One that crawls and glues itself in your inner ear.
"Oh, sorry I'm in the wrong place, murderer!"
