My pace slows down when I hear the thud of heels and her little Doc Martens. The streetlights flicker, and I’m sure I look like a goddamn stalker—then again, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for years, isn’t it? The label doesn’t sound so bad. At least now I fit the bill. I chuff at the thought.
At the end of the steps, I dip behind a bush. I watch as she struggles to get her little friend to her feet.
Stupid fucking Kieran.
Typically, I don’t give a shit who he drugs or who he’s fuckin’, but he’s gonna fuck this up for me by thinking with his dick. This bitch is off-limits. Can’t afford to have my little songbird distracted by anything but me.
I’m already feeling the effects of the molly mixed with the alcohol as she rounds the corner. The large, imposing chiseled-stone dorm building comes into view. It’s like a looming specter the way it towers over the town. It’s the largest monolith in Grimshaw, Maine, its apex can be seen from miles away.
Vesper stands before the gray stone edifice. Gargoyles and gothic scions plaster the sides of the stonework. Grimshaw Academy is old as hell. Kieran’s family’s attendance here goes back for generations. Vesper punches in a code, and the heavy metal door buzzes open.
Quietly and agilely, I slip behind them undetected. I shove my foot in the doorway before it closes and squeeze inside. It’s quiet aside from her drugged friend mumbling nonsense down one of the adjoining hallways. There’s no reason for me to be here. I know exactly where she lives. The curiosity gets the best of me, though. I wonder what her room looks like.Does it smell like her? I’ll find out soon enough. My eyes dart side to side. Realistically, I’m well fucking aware no one would know if I’m from this dorm or not. Not with being veiled in the shadows. I slink down the hallway casually, following her close enough to keep her in view, but not close enough to raise suspicion. She finally stops in front of her door. I already know it’s room 930. She fumbles with her keys and sighs as she struggles to keep her friend from face-planting.
She manages to wrestle her inside while my back stays plastered to the wall, shrouded from her view, veiled in the shadows where I belong. The door clicks closed behind them. It echoes down the narrow hallway. It won’t take them long to pass out. I dig around in my hoodie and check my phone. It’s well past midnight. No turning back now. It leaves me more than enough time to do what I need to do, as long as my high doesn’t make me pass out. It would be smarter to do it when they’re in class, but I love living on the edge. The thrill of getting caught offers the same high I desperately chase.
My hand brushes my back pocket to make sure the cameras are still there. After waiting a bit, the dorm lights in the hallway dim to a low amber glow. I slink in the shadows towards her door. I press my ear against the cold metal and listen.
Silence.
Perfect.
It’s now or never. I dig in my back pocket to fish out my lock-picking kit. It takes me two seconds flat to get the door opened. I slip inside and snick it quietly closed behind me, careful not to make the latch click. The first thing I’m hit with is the smell of cherries and vanilla mixed with her roommate. My tongue rolls on the side of my cheek and my eyes slide back in their sockets. I stifle a groan. It shouldn’t be as addictive as it is, though it makes sense, doesn’t it?
I count my steps. Two steps to the right, four to the left, one forward. I spent hours making sure I knew exactly how to navigate in the dark. All then dorms are set up the same. Though, I didn’t account for any shit they could have left on their bedroom floor. Luckily. It’s clear. I reach up, feel around for the smoke detector, and slip the camera from my back pocket. This angle gives the perfect view of her bed and the side of her room.
After my eyes adjust to the dark, I blink a few times and see her lying in bed, sound asleep. She looks so innocent, so fucking perfect, like a goddamn angel or some shit. It’s a shame I’m the fucking devil. Corrupting such a creature is sinful, but I feel no remorse. It needs to be done, and I look forward to her downfall.
My feet move of their own accord, and I find myself kneeling in front of her bed. My fingertips skim over a knit blanket and her soft, milky skin. I inhale like a psycho, engraving it in my brain. My dick responds in kind.I bet she’s a fucking virgin too. With my mouth salivating at the thought, I slide my eyes closed, and the euphoria high washes over my body just from her scent…or maybe the molly.
A sick smile slithers over my lips, and I let out a dark, twisted laugh in the silent room. My little songbird echoes in my subconscious, bouncing off the walls of my mind.How longI’ve planned this. How she would react once I met her. Such a pristine, untainted little thing. My little songbird lives happily in her gilded cage, having no idea I hold the key and all the answers she never knew she needed. She’ll fly freely into the arms of a bigger monster.
Me.
Only difference is I won’t keep her caged. I’ll break her, just to release her and watch her dismantle slowly.
Her scent lingers on my skin. My nails rake against my arm in a desperate attempt to settle my dirty, fucked-up thoughts. Something about her aroma sends me over the edge to madness.
Keep it together, Zain.
I wanna watch her bleed. It’s fucked-up, but I couldn’t care less. The sheer thought of destroying something so beautiful threatens to send me careening over the edge. My entire being is ready to dissolve into nothing and drown in her intoxicating savor.
I’m on the precipice of losing my shit when I reach into my jeans and fist my pierced cock. I’m already sporting a semi. I let out a rumbled groan, squeezing it from root to tip. My eyes flicker to the floor. A pair of black lace panties are laid out like an offering. I know they’re hers. They’re too conservative to be her slutty roommate’s. I snatch them and shove them against my nose, relishing in her scent.
“Fuck.” I inhale a sharp whisper under my breath. The swells of euphoria continue to sail over my skin like waves. I start stroking my hard dick like a crazed lunatic, my hand wrapping tighter around the base, jacking off so hard my body goes stiff. I get to my feet and stand above her. My jaw tightens, and I feel myself tipping over the edge. The image of her is ingrained in my mind, and I let myself selfishly come to the image of her. My cock erupts inside my boxers and jeans, coating them with my sticky cum.You need fucking therapy, Zain.
I pocket her panties and leave her peacefully sleeping, because fuck knows how much longer she’ll get it.
“Did you party too hard, Miss Santi?” A loud, booming male voice pulls me from my wandering thoughts.
My head snaps forward, and I sit straight as a board. All eyes are on me. Stupidly, I’d let my thoughts drift back to the party last night.Zain. He’s been floating around my mind all morning. When I woke up, I swear I could smell the subtle scent of cigarettes and woody musk. I chalked it up to how it must be clinging to my dirty clothes basket.
“No sir.” I blink and pull my attention back to Mr. Thompson’s lecture on Bach. He stands at the front of the room looking furious but quickly turns back around to the board, continuing on. I tap my pencil insistently, and my top teeth scrape against my bottom lip. I really hate being called out. My mind decides it’s a perfect time to take a trip down memory lane and map out his tattoos and deep muscles in my brain.
Ugh, there I go again!Bach, Vesper, Bach.Not creepy insane dudes with crazy psycho makeup.
Mr. Thompson dismisses class, and I can’t get out of the classroom fast enough. I snap my laptop closed, jam the remaining papers into my JanSport backpack, and book it back to my dorm. I have a few hours before my next class. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll catch a bit of sleep, though doubtful. I plod through the hallway and flip out my phone to catch up on notifications. Clara didn’t show up to class today, not that I expectedher to after last night. Guilt gnaws at my insides. I should have been more insistent on her not
taking drugs from a strange guy. I usually give her a pep talk before we do anything. Especially in a neighborhood like that. Clara is a wild child. It’s not in my nature to shame her for her choices, and that’s exactly what it would have been in her eyes. She is working through her own stuff, and I need to handle her delicately. I push through the glass doors of the Cadence building and into the cool morning breeze. I quickly place a coffee order on my phone because,caffeine. The wind whips through my dark hair, and now I’m wishing I wore something more than my leggings and oversize T-shirt. The weather changes too rapidly here in Maine, and I hate it. With Clara resting at the dorm, I figure grabbing her a warm latte will get her feeling better. Caffeine works wonders for tired college students and epic hangovers.
