Page 3 of Grave Obsession

Ghost

Fuck yes, there’s the tingle in my taint I’ve been searching the last few months for. I almost lost the battle with my impending orgasm when she turned and left me. Her perfect ass at eye level, swaying side to side as her thick thighs carry her from the bedroom. Fisting my dick, I force the rush I'm feeling to go away. Denying myself gratification may seem ridiculous to some, but the next time I blow my load it's going to be on her tongue. If I had known that all I had to do was get closer to her to resolve my inability to cum, I wouldn’t have waited this long.

Regulating my breathing and thinking about the long walk back to my vehicle has my dick returning to its flaccid state. Pulling out my phone, I shoot off another text to my obsession. "Good girl" is all it says. She did so good. I didn’t plan for tonight to go this way at all, but I had just gotten to my perfect viewing spot and she closed her curtains. I was not having that today. I needed to see her. She actually did better than I ever could have anticipated. Yeah, I spooked her, but she didn’t lose her shit. Dare I say, she would want to see me again? She’s going to be such a good fucking girl for me. Fuck, no, down boy. No more boners tonight.

I doubt I’ll be getting a reply from her, so I pocket my phone and turn to make my way back to the road. I’ve walked through these woods so much in the last few months that I’ve worn a path that's pretty easy to maneuver now, even in the dark.

Replaying the night over and over in my head has me more concerned than ever that what I’ve been denying this whole time is actually true.

I told myself, “I’m not a stalker. I'm not deranged, unhinged, or psychotic. She’s just a pretty girl I can’t get out of my head. I’m not obsessed, it's perfectly normal to dream about someone after you’ve met them. Hell, it's probably even completely normal to rub your dick raw over a woman you only met once. Even visiting a corner store more times in a week than you have in your entire life is normal.” Eventually, I realized I wasn’t acting normal. I had to fight every urge that surfaced and pull myself back. I obviously failed catastrophically, look at where I am now.

As the evidence piles up against me, I can’t refuse the glaringly obvious anymore. I’m obsessed, addicted, completely brainwashed. The things I’ve done would land me in jail for sure. It’s all been for her though, because of her. To stop her fire from being smothered completely. I’m the textbook definition of a stalker now, obsessive and aggressive to the point of harassment, as it so states. I walked that line before. She didn’t even know I was there, watching and protecting her as best I could. But now, after tonight, I’m sure I have stumbled into harassment territory.

Chapter Three

Mallory

Sharp rapping at my door cuts through the haze and bolts me awake. Shit, I must have fallen asleep after the call to the police station. Is it him? What time is it? Grabbing my phone and checking the screen, I see I was only out for about thirty minutes. That’s just enough time to hit the outskirts of town from here, much less get to the police station.

“Ma’am? Hello? This is the police. You called for help?”

Oh, thank shit, it’s not him. “Yes, that was me, just a second.” Fuck, I need pants. Bolting down the hall, I grab a pair of leggings that are half hanging out of my dresser drawer. Trying to pull them on and get back to the front door is no easy task but I manage, albeit clumsily. Approaching the door, I can hear his impatient huffing. Anxiety swells within me, I don’t want someone in my house, but I’m sure a full sweep of the premises is protocol. If it’s not, I’m sure it would become of the utmost importance to check the house to ensure my safety. Everyone wants to see the house where an entire family was annihilated.

Gathering my composure, I take a deep breath and open the door. He’s just standing there with his back to me, staring out at the woods. What is he doing? Didn’t he hear me open the door? I hear him take a deep breath as he turns back around, seemingly shocked that I’m standing there.

“Good evening ma’am, Mrs. Carla said there was an intruder on the premises and sent me out to conduct a sweep of the house and property.” A black windbreaker hangs unzipped on his body and the tight grey shirt underneath leaves nothing to the imagination where his physique is concerned.

“Mrs. Carla?” I inquire, my eyes snagging on the hand cuffs tucked into the belt around his waist. The radio on his hip crackles to life and he quickly moves to shut it off. Keys jingle and his nightstick sways with his swift movements as I realize I’m staring. My face heats as I lift my gaze back to his.

“Mrs. Carla Willows. She works the phones and administration desk at the town precinct, ma’am,” he replies flatly, like it’s a nuisance to have to have this customary introductory exchange. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, leaving muddy boot prints on my doorstep.

“Oh, yes, I called about an hour ago. Thank you for responding so quickly, Officer…”

“Graves.” He all but growls his name at me and it sends a shiver down my spine. His stare is intense, I’m fighting the urge to squirm my way out from under his scrutiny. He’s making me sweat behind the knees. What is happening to me? Why do I feel like this?

Gathering my composure, I continue, “Officer Graves. Okay, well someone, a man I assume, was outside, on the edge of the woods watching me, wearing a creepy white mask.” This guy smirks and laughs to himself. The sound sends another jolt of electricity through my body.

Raising a Ghostface mask in his gloved hand, he says, “Is this the mask you saw?” Shocked, I nod my head. “I found it hooked onto a branch over there.” He points towards the direction of the woods that are across from my bedroom window. “It was likely just some resident teens trying to give you a fright. You’ve moved into their parent-free hang out space and they're probably grumpy about it. Also, with the history of the property I would expect nothing less from the delinquents. I did a preliminary search around the outside of the house to ensure there was no imminent danger. I’d like to give the tree line a more thorough inspection though, do you have any outside lighting that could brighten up your yard?”

Shaking my head, “No, nothing more than the lights by the front and back doors. There’s a light outside the storage shed I could turn on for you. It’s always off because I never go out there,” I say.

“That would be great, thanks. Do you have any security cameras or an alarm system?” he asks.

“No,” I say. God, I want to crawl under a rock. I’m so unsafe and unprotected out here. I know I should have these things, but I didn’t think I’d need them. It’s a small town, one of those ones where everyone knows everyone. I understand how motion lights and cameras can deter children and teens, but I swear that was a man. Maybe I should look into a security camera at the least. I’ll put one right above my bedroom window. That would scare him off, hopefully.

“I’ll come check on you and the house when I’m done out here. You can head back inside if you want, I won’t be gone too long.” I can’t help but notice that he didn’t say "I’ll be right back" as I return to my spot on the couch, and that gives me the smallest speck of hope that he will be back.

I pull out my phone, no new messages or calls. Damn, I’m tired. It's almost midnight now. I hope that him checking my house out won’t take too long since I have no concerns about that. Not that I’d know, but I don’t feel like my space has been invaded.

I’m lost in a video about funny cats when he finally knocks on the door. 12:17 am, hopefully this is over soon. Unlocking the door and allowing him into my safe space unnerves me. “Was everything okay outside?” I ask. He nods. I already don’t like this, please hurry up and get out of my house.

“Did you need any- ” I’m cut off mid sentence by his gruff voice.

“Where did you see the trespasser?” He’s looking over my head and inspecting the open concept area of my house. Couch and TV are to the left and behind them is the dining and kitchen area. There’s a large entryway closet to the right and the exit to the back door is a straight shot across the house down a set of stairs. Then, turning right from the back door landing is the stairs leading to the basement. To the right of the entrance way is the hallway that leads to the bathroom and the master bedroom. Then, two more small rooms that were once children’s bedrooms but now sit empty and unused.

“I saw him through my bedroom window,” I quietly reply.

“And where is that?” he snaps. What the fuck? Did this cop get a stick stuck up his ass while out walking the tree line?

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