The hopeful thought vanishes as quickly as it came. I already know why I’m here. The cold steel tucked into the back of my waistband makes that crystal clear. It doesn’t matter whether she’s with others or alone. I’ll do what I came here for.
Slipping into the shadows of the treeline bordering the house, I wait.
Time passes meaninglessly. I’ll wait as long as it takes.
My pulse leaps like it always does when I see her, all of my senses honing in on her bundled-up form as she exits the back door.
She pauses for a moment to curse at the frigid temperature, wrapping her puffy jacket around her tighter as she trudges out to the stack of wood piled on the edge of where the light from the back porch touches.
Her eyes dart back and forth as she approaches. She knows she’s not alone, even if her logical mind is telling her there’s no one here and she’s perfectly safe.
Just as I can always feel the pull of her vulnerability, so too can she always feel the aura of dread that my presence evokes.
She scoops up as much wood as she can carry, seeming to relax ever so slightly when nothing bursts out of the darkness and grabs her as she collects what she needs.
I could grab her now. Drag her off into the forest kicking and screaming until she runs out of any strength to fight me. My body coils, ready to spring into action, but I freeze when her coat slides off her shoulder as she readjusts the wood in her arms, exposing the delicate curve of her throat.
A vision of curling my fingers around it gives her just enough time to move back toward the house and out of reach. I shift in place, and something snaps underfoot.
She stiffens and glances over her shoulder, eyes landing on me but unseeing. Almost tripping over her own feet, she races back to the house, logs scattered across the porch as she abandons them to yank the door open and slam it shut behind her.
A bubble of cruel laughter escapes me at the sight.
Run as much as you want, Princess. We both know you can never get away.
I wait a little longer, just enough for her to let her guard down, before drawing my hood up and stepping into the backyard. Walking to the porch in plain sight of the back windows, knowing she might be watching. Hoping she is.
Let her get a preview of what’s in store to whet her appetite.
When I reach the back door and find it predictably locked, I let out another dark laugh.
It’s cute when she pretends she can keep me away.
I’m rewarded with a sharp gasp from the other side of the door, greedily drinking in the sound. It courses through my system, setting my body alight and making me desperate for more. But if I go inside now, our time together will be over far too soon.
I force myself to step back and wait, taking a moment to stack the wood in a neat pileby the door just in case she does something unexpected, like charge out the back door with a knife, and trips.
More time passes after I slip back into the darkness. Enough for her to second-guess what’s happening. Enough for her to decide it was a trick of her anxious mind and head upstairs to the bedroom in the top right corner, letting me watch her silhouette as she readies herself for bed. Enough for her to succumb to the fatigue that fear creates.
Once I’m certain she’s asleep, I know it’s time. The flimsy lock breaks when I apply the smallest amount of force, and the back door gives way to me. It’s simple to keep my footsteps light. I freeze when one of the stairs gives a loud squeak under my weight, cursing myself for being careless. If I weren’t in an unfamiliar house, I wouldn’t have made that mistake. I know every inch of her cabin by heart.
When everything is silent again, I move until I come face to face with the bedroom door. Despite her fear, it’s unlocked, making it comically easy for me to slip inside the dark bedroom undetected.
I drink in the sight of her, limbs tangled in her bedding from a fitful fight to sleep, her peachy skin shining in the sliver of moonlight coming in through the curtains. She’s so beautiful in her repose, it makes my chest ache. I want to stay here, just watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she slumbers.
Why can’t she let me leave it at that?
My heart pounds so loud it’s a wonder she can’t hear it threatening to burst out of my chest as the inevitable moment we’ve been waiting for finally arrives. Roiling, conflicted emotions crash over me as I move until I’m standing at her bedside, staring down at her. My fingers curl and flex as I linger on the precipice of what my mind is screaming at me to do.
Her dark tresses obscure some of her features, and I reach down, unthinking, to brush them out of the way. To smoothaway the furrow on her brow and whisper reassurances that she’s safe.
But then her eyes flash open, and the choice is made for me. The force of her scream rattles my mind as she tries to roll away, but I’m too fast, gripping her throat and pinning her to the bed.
She claws at my hand, eyes wide in visceral terror as she sees the mask.
I tighten my grip, my stomach twisting with sick determination.
Her tear-filled gaze begs for mercy as she struggles futilely. The heat of her skin burns my palm, searing her terror and pain like a brand against my soul, but I can’t stop.
