Page 5 of Stalker

Death by the masked man in the woods who hunted me through the darkness for his pleasure.

And mine.

As sleep pulled me under, I felt my body relax physically before falling completely into the subconscious space I ached for so I could see him.

The masked man.

The dark shadow that lurked just out of sight as the forest came into view through dreamland. Just like every other dream, I found myself standing at the edge of a meadow, blinking through the darkness, and waiting for my eyes to adjust as if I had been dropped into the scene from above.

The message in the dream was easy to decipher, even if the dream itself confused me when I woke up.

The meadow was safe. It was light. There was security there that I desperately wanted and longed for. So one would think I’d walk out into it, letting the bright moonlight bask against my skin and offer its protection from the monsters lurking in the darkness behind me.

At least that’s what I had grown to resent every time I woke up from the dream in the beginning. Because not once, in the months since the dream started, had I walked out into that meadow and into safety.

Not a single time.

Instead, every single night, I turned and walked deeper into the darkness, feeling my way through the thick underbelly of the forest where light no longer existed until I could feel his stare on me from afar.

His.

My monster.

My biggest fear.

And also, my biggest admirer.

The man that was as obsessed with me as I had become with the dream. To him.

I felt his stare on my skin like a burst of cold air first. And then the hair on my neck rose as my nails dug into the bark of a tree while I contemplated which direction to turn in.

Left.

I always went left.

Two steps to my left, I felt his breath on my cheek and gasped at the sensation. That breath could make me come all by itself; it had multiple times in the dream before that moment. Adrenaline rushed through my blood, and I took off running, swatting branches and bushes from my face as it cut my skin and caused more excitement to burn in my belly.

I felt the ghost of his hands in my wild hair as I tore through the darkness as he reached for me, yet I evaded him. For now. My freedom was always short-lived.

A few more twists, a duck, and a leap through the air before those fingers ensnarled their way into my long red locks, gaining purchase and ripping me backward off my feet completely.

“No!” I screamed as I flailed my arms out, trying to catch myself before my back landed on the ground with a solid thud. Stars dancedin front of my eyes as my lungs clenched from the impact and refused to grant access to new oxygen, no matter how hard I tried to breathe.

Shadows of him moved around me as he slowly circled over my prone body, staring down at me. I could see the faint glow of his sinister smile beneath his mask before he moved with lightning speed, flipping me onto my stomach so I couldn’t see him at all.

“What a pretty little prize you are.” He growled against my ear as he straddled my back and pulled my head back to look up at the sky.

Fuck, he smelled so good; he always smelled so damn good. It was part of the conundrum he created inside of my brain each time he caught me.

“You always look so pretty for me.” He ran his face up the side of mine and I could feel the cool leather of his mask before his teeth bit my jaw. His mask left his mouth and jaw free and exposed, not that I would have been able to recognize him from those features alone if I saw him in the real world. But every time I saw glimpses of him in the dream, I knew he was mine.

My monster.

And I was his. I belonged to no one else in this world, and I didn’t want to. Even if I fought him each and every time he caught me.

“Tell me, Puppet,” He loosened his hold on my hair and wrapped his hand around my throat, “How many times will you come for me tonight?” I clawed at his hand as my body panicked for fresh air around the pressure of his hand. “Three?” He bit my ear and moaned when I rocked underneath him. “You’re feisty tonight, I bet you’ll come four times before I’m done with you.”

“Please let me go,” I begged in a hoarse whisper, drawing blood from his fingers where my nails broke the skin. “Please.”

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