Page 12 of Grave Obsession

Mallory

“Be right back, I need to tinkle,” I say to a half conscious Victoria. She’s sprawled out on the couch and mumbles something I can’t make out as a reply. I stopped guzzling wine when I first saw my stalker tonight, making the decision to switch to water so I’d be sober if he got his big, tattooed hands on me. I round the corner to my room and pick up my phone. I see I have missed messages from Ghost. Yes, I saved his number in my phone. He makes me smile and I don’t want to be ashamed of it.

Ghost:

It’s not me, baby, I swear.

But I’m coming.

Where was he Mallory?

What? What does he mean it’s not him that I saw out the window? Turning towards the glass, I see he’s still standing outside, he’s just closer now. Can’t say I’m a fan of this new mask, it’s something right out of my nightmares. Just a white burlap sack on his head with grotesquely cut holes for eyes. It’s similar to that horror movie "The Strangers". That one is truly scary as hell. The group of psychos have no real reason for killing except "you were home". It’s the movie I throw on when I really want a scare and to not end up aroused. A chill runs down my spine as the man outside tilts his head to the side, watching me. It’s fucking frightening.

Mallory:

What kind of game is this, Ghost?

I can see you through the window.

My phone vibrates in my hand while I’m watching him through the window. I ignore the message, thinking it’s Victoria asking me if I got lost on the way to the bathroom or something. But, more and more texts come in while I’m staring out the window and it’s impossible to ignore. Looking down, multiple messages from Ghost light up my screen. Fear bubbles beneath my skin as I realize this isn’t a game. He’s not the one outside. He said he was coming though. Swiping open my screen I read his messages.

Ghost:

It’s not me.

Although, if it were me, what would you do?

Would you flash me a glimpse of that beautiful smile?

Or those gorgeous tits?

Seriously, little siren, it’s not me.

I promise you, I’m not lying.

You can stop eye fucking him now.

I said, IT’S NOT ME!

Okay, enough. This ends now.

Don’t scream.

The last message comes through while I’m still looking at my phone screen. My eyes dart to the scene unfolding in my yard. Ghost is creeping across the grass, crouched low to the ground like a predator stalking its prey. I suppose that’s exactly what he is. I have no idea what’s going to happen but I’m struggling to keep my expression neutral. His gaze clashes with mine through voids in the mask and he raises his finger to the gaping maw of the Ghostface mask. Once again, reminding me to "Shhhhh". I have to be quiet, I don’t want to scare the shit out of Victoria. I can only hope the wine worked her over and she’s finally passed out on the couch.

What happens next seems to play out in slow motion in front of my very eyes. Ghost comes up behind the other man outside and wraps his right arm around his neck. Using his other arm to lock in his grip, he applies pressure on the back of the fucker's neck, effectively cutting off his air supply. He struggles and flops, trying to get away, but Ghost is an immovable force. I see the fight drain out of the man in the creepy mask but Ghost doesn’t relent. He’s going to kill him. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. I’m sick. Sick. Sick. Sick in the head. He’s dead weight in my protector’s hands and I can feel my heartbeat in my pussy. Sick.

He drops the man that was undoubtedly going to hurt me and makes his way to my window. Are we about to have some "Romeo & Juliet" moment? I fucking hope not. He just killed someone to protect me. From what? I don’t know, but I can’t imagine the creep outside my window had good intentions for me. The irony of that isn’t lost on me. I realize I was just saved by the other creep who likes to hang out by my window.

He places his gloved hand on the glass, adding yet another print to the many that already decorate my window. And I place my palm on the glass, against his. It’s weirdly intimate and my heart leaps into my throat. How can I ever thank him for what he did tonight? Nothing will ever be enough to cover the cost of taking another life. Suddenly the man on the ground is moving, rolling onto his back. Probably wondering what the fuck happened to him. Picking up on the shift in my gaze he looks over at the man in the grass. Ghost grabs him by the shirt collar and drives his fist into his face, over and over again. I’m not counting, but when he turns back to me his mask is splattered with blood. His gloves are saturated in it, they are gleaming wet and dripping onto the grass as he stands there letting me stew in the gravity of what’s happening between us. He’s massive, wild, a feral predator with me in his sights but I’m anything but scared now. I know deep in my gut he would never hurt me. He comes back to me, only a few inches of glass separating us. He raises his hand to the window again but this time he smears the blood saturating his glove across the pane. Removing his glove, he uses his finger to draw a heart in the blood. His shoulders slouch and he pulls his phone from his pocket. Bloody thumb tapping the screen and then my phone chimes in my hand.

Ghost:

I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, I swear.

My insides twist. While I’m wholly flattered by what he just did and said, this must mean he knows about my past. To what extent? Do I want to know? Shame fills me and I want to recede into myself and hide. I’m not deserving of whatever this man feels for me. I’ve been used and abused and I don’t know how to reciprocate his feelings. The urge to run is overwhelming me. Can he see my insecurities written all over my face? He looks up at me and then turns away. He bends to grab the unconscious man by the collar, dragging him across the lawn and then slowly disappearing into the woods.

Graves

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