My Masked Stalker

She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s mine.

I first saw Emily when I was on a job—rifle in hand, target in sight. But it wasn’t the mark who stole my attention. It was her. The girl in the window, lit up by the glow of her kitchen light, completely unaware she’d just become mine.

I’ve been watching her ever since. Her private moments. Her sweet little routines. The way she moans softly when she touches herself, thinking no one can hear. She thinks she’s safe in her apartment, but I see everything.

The men she dated? Gone. I made sure of it. No one touches what’s mine.

I’m not a good man. Ex-Scout Sniper. Contract killer. Predator. But when she looks at me through her window, fear in those gray eyes, I swear I see something else too. Curiosity. Temptation.

And on Halloween night, when she runs, I’ll hunt her. Chase her down. Claim her in the dark.

She can call me her stalker. Her monster. Her nightmare in a mask.

But soon, she’ll call me something else.

Mine.