His voice, lower now, almost soothing if it weren’t so vile:
“Little spider, little spider, wrapped up in her fear,
Doesn’t know I’m watching—doesn’t know I’m near.
I see you when you’re trembling, see you when you cry,
And when you think you’re all alone, that’s when I’m standing by.
Try to scream, try to fight; it only makes me stay.
Because I love the way you look when you’re desperate to get away.”
I can’t breathe. My vision blurs, and I curl tighter, squeezing my knees to my chest. I’ve never felt this helpless, this exposed. He knows where I am—knows exactly how to cut me open and leave me raw.
I hear footsteps, and my head snaps up, eyes darting to the mouth of the alley. A man walks by without noticing me, lost in his own world. Relief crashes into me, but it’s short-lived.
My phone buzzes. I don’t want to look, but I can’t help myself.
I can see you.
I jerk upright, heart slamming against my ribs. I scan the alley, the pavement beyond. No one. Just shadows and strangers who don’t care.
Another message.
Poor little spider, stuck in her own web. You’re making this too easy.
My chest heaves, and I force myself to stand. I can’t stay here. I push out of the alley and into the street, nearly colliding with a group of teenagers who glare at me as they pass.
As I keep moving, my pace quickens. I don’t know where I’m going—just anywhere but here. Anywhere away from his words, his voice that keeps seeping into my skull.
I’m halfway down the block when my phone vibrates one more time. I don’t look until I’m under the harsh lights of a bus stop. My thumb hovers over the screen.
A picture message.
My heart stops. I open it, and my stomach twists.
It’s me. Sitting on the ground in the alley, head buried in my arms. The photo’s taken from the entrance, as if he was right there. Right there, watching me fall apart.
Another text.
You’re so pretty when you’re scared. I’m closer than you think, Little Spider.
I look around wildly, eyes darting to every face, every shadow. He’s here. He’s been here. My hands shake so violently I almost drop the phone again.
I stumble onto the bus, not even checking the route. Just… anywhere but here. I collapse into a seat, pulling my hood tighter, trying to make myself as small as possible.
I stare out the window as the city blurs by, and I can’t help but feel it—his presence, like a hand on the back of my neck, tightening.
And I know deep down this isn’t just a game to him. It’s a hunt. And I’m the prey.
CHAPTER FOUR
RAVEN
The bus rattles down the cracked, uneven road, the engine wheezing like it might give out any second. I press my forehead against the smudged window, watching the city blur past in shades of grey and grime. My fingers are numb from gripping the seat too tightly, but I can’t make myself let go.
The bus is nearly empty—a few tired-looking souls scattered in the worn seats, eyes glazed over, lost in their own misery. I should feel safer with people around me. I don’t.
