Page 1 of Haunting Me

Chapter one

W E S

A cloud of smoke surrounds me as I exhale the last drag of my cigarette. The nicotine calms the urges that are coursing through my body. I watch her from the fire escape of her tiny apartment. My girl, well soon to be my girl. I’ve been watching her for three months now and I’m thinking it’s time we finally meet.

She is dancing around her apartment, some metal band is blaring through her speakers. This sounds like a pig getting stuck with a knife, annoying squealing sounds. I'm a fan of many genres, but this is just fucking awful. I know Ma Petite Mort has better taste than this. After the song ends, thank fuck, she gets ready for bed. It’s already two in the morning.

Her apartment is above a pizza shop, so she has no neighbors at night. An absolute fucking dream. No one to hear her screams. Oh, she will scream. She’ll scream my name so loud people down the street will know it. My girl downs about five shots of vodka and then lays down on her bed. I wait patiently for her to pass out.

After an hour, and no actual movement, I pull up the window in the main living space. My sneakers touch the hardwood floor and make a creaking sound. She's lying on the bed in the back of the apartment. Nothing. She’s such a hard sleeper. With the place so quiet, I can hear her deep breathing.

What I would give to hear it stop momentarily with my hands wrapped around her throat. While my cock is deep inside her pussy.

I make my way to the bed, purposefully making noise, hoping she will wake up and find me hovering over her. My victims' fear excites me. Her fear would be the best kind of drug. As I look over her body, I take in the sight of her curves. I groan as my cock thickens against my zipper. I’m not into somnophilia, but fuck, I would fuck her while she slept in a heartbeat.

Despite the echoing zipper sound, she doesn't wake up. I pull out my cock and start stroking. My free hand finds her ass cheek, gliding my fingertips across. She shudders and I stop, my other hand still inching me closer to release. She shifts to where she is lying on her back.

Ma Petite Mort choking on vomit is the last thing I want. I'm the only one allowed to take her life. I quickly get myself to the edge of coming. Then stop. I take a minute to regain control, then shove my cock back in my jeans. I'm enduring the torture of edging myself because I want to be inside her when I come.

Gently, I shift her so that she is lying on her side. She doesn’t even notice that it’s a pair of hands helping her move. I get a view of her ass again and I’m tempted to edge myself again. Instead, I pull out the piece of paper with my note scrawled on it. I place it next to her glasses on the bedside table. Along with a bottle of water and a pain reliever.

A thoughtful stalker.

I whisper to her, "Next time, Ma Petite Mort. I'll be so deep inside you, you'll never get away from me."

She shifts and cuddles her body pillow and drifts deeper into sleep. I climb out of the fire escape, glancing behind me. Her chest rises and falls, full of life. I pull the window down and slide down the ladder. Exiting the alley, I light up another cigarette.

Time to release these urges.

I take ten minutes to get back to my car. I always park it far from the pizza shop. The walk back helps keep me focused. The chill of the bay creeps around me. My girl lives too close to the water, in a not-so-safe area. She doesn’t have to worry, though. I’ll scare away all the “bad” guys. The only monster that gets to haunt her is me.

I climb into my 64 GTO and fire up the engine. It roars to life, surely pissing off the residents. Its low rumble fills the street. The GPS on my phone has the tracking pin for my next victim, Samuel Baker. I found his profile on the sex offender registry and then followed him around to make sure he had been keeping himself out of trouble.

He hasn’t been. Samuel has been cruising the middle school in the area every day since he moved to the city. Recently, he’s had his eyes set on a particular young girl. I'll keep her safe from him.

Outside Samuel’s rundown house on the outskirts of the tenderloin, I wait. I grab the energy drink from the cup holder and pound it. I will require some serious sustenance once I am done.

I wonder how the pizza is in the joint under my girl’s apartment?

The hours pass and right on schedule, Samuel appears on his front porch at 4:50. Only today he won’t be making it into his shitty corporate job. The darkness will still conceal me as I walk up the porch. Nevertheless, I pull my mask down and throw my hood up. I get out of the car, opening my trunk, ready to drop him in. Crossing the street, I make my way up the steps silently.

The piece of shit doesn’t even notice someone behind him. Taking the syringe out of my pocket, I toss the cap. I grab him in a chokehold and plunge the needle into his jugular. He slumps back and I shift him so I can fireman carry him to the trunk. His body makes a satisfying thud as I drop him in.

It takes no time to drive to my waterfront warehouse. I pull through the gate punch in the code, pull over, and hop out to lock it. Fuck I need to fix this thing! In the building with my car tucked inside, I get Samuel out of the trunk and drag his body to my workshop. Just as I finish tying his legs down, he comes to.

“Wha…where am I?” He says, his voice shaking with confusion and fear. The mask still covers my face. As I rise, he catches sight of it and screams. The zombie face does that to people. It’s twisted and creepy as fuck.

“He…hey man, le.. lemme go. I won’t say shit to anybody,” he pleads like the soft-ass bitch he is.

“Oh, Sammy. Can I call you Sammy?” I circle him, my favorite knife twirling between my fingers. Sweat beads on his forehead as his whole body trembles. There’s the fear!

I crack my neck. “Oh Sammy, unfortunately for you. I can’t let you go. You’ve been a naughty little maggot, haven’t you? Little girls, your thing, Sammy. You sick fuck!”

I drive my knife into his groin. Samuel’s shrill scream fills the warehouse as I stab him again and again. Blood pours down my wrist. “Please, man… I haven’t touched a girl since…since,” his voice falters as he begins to pass out. I bring my knife to his throat.

“But you were planning on it, weren’t you, Sammy?”

“I am your executioner, Samuel Baker. I have judged you and deemed you to be unworthy of life. You rape children and for that, you must die. Any last words?” My voice firm and emotionless.

---