Page 9 of Unhinged

She made her way quickly into one of the many identical apartment complexes. The door loudly clanked shut behind her, and I took note she never even paused to unlock the front door.

For a moment, I stood outside, still across the street, watching the windows above as I waited. And then I spotted a dim light flicker on through a single, brick-framed glass square.

Third floor. Second window to the left. I made my move.

I stepped out from the alley, blending seamlessly with the night as I crossed the street and made my way toward the entrance.

I should’ve left.

But I didn’t.

I was hard, my cock throbbing with anticipation and… something else.

The lock on the door was old, rusty—a joke and didn’t even work, which was why she hadn’t needed to take the time to unlock it before disappearinginside the building. I didn't know why I didn’t like the fact that anyone could get to her. But I couldn’t say anyone would’ve been worse than me.

I didn’t think there was much worse out there than a serial killer.

The door made the faintest creak as the hinges protested from being opened. I stayed in the darkness and made sure my movements were silent and careful. The complex was small, cluttered, and filthy as I made my way up the stairs and to the third floor.

It was easy enough to find her apartment since there were only two on this floor, and one of the doors was blocked off with police crime scene tape.

For shits and giggles, I tried her doorknob, not expecting it to be open, but stranger things had happened… like being instantly obsessed in a confusing way with this woman. It was locked, and although I could break it easily and enter, I didn’t want to leave her vulnerable with a broken front door in this city.

So I went about picking her lock, and once inside, I shut the door quietly and stood there just taking everything in. Her apartment was sparse, but I could see little personal touches scattered around.

There was a worn blanket on the tattered couch, a chipped and stained end table with an outdatedlamp sitting atop it. It was the only light on in this area, so it must’ve been what I saw come on from the street. The coffee table looked like it had seen better days with one leg duct taped together, and a romance book sat atop it.

The faint smell of age from the crumbling apartment was mixed with something sweet lingering in the air.

The sound of water running was soft and distant, coming from down the hall, and I saw the hazy glow of the bathroom light from the partially open door across from what must’ve been her bedroom.

I moved through the living room and down the short hallway until I stood in front of the bathroom door. It was cracked open just enough for me to see inside. Steam billowed out, fogging the mirror that hung above the ’70s era yellow linoleum sink.

I glimpsed her through the transparent but water-droplet-covered shower curtain. Her back was to me, the spray cascading down the length of her spine, along the small of her back, and caressing the perfect mounds of her ass.

I felt that consuming pull again. The need to watch her, to stalk her… to get closer. But I didn’t move. I just stood there, hidden in the shadows of the hallway, and watching as she washed her lithe body.

The longer I stayed there and stared at her the more I felt something shift inside me. The hunger for death and blood and pain was there, gnawing at me like it always did, yet it wasn’t exactly aimed at this delectable creature. And although that hunger was potent as fuck, I felt something else, something different, brewing right below the need to kill.

She fascinated me in a way that made me uneasy.

I stayed there until she cut the water off, taking a pace back when she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. I stood there a second longer before turning and slipping into the lone bedroom in her apartment.

My heart beat steadily in my chest as I went to her closet and deftly hid inside, closing the door just enough to watch her without being seen.

I was still, my breathing even as I leaned against the frame and waited for several minutes. When she finally entered her room and turned the bedside lamp on, I took a step back farther into the shadows. Her skin was flushed from the heat of the shower, and even though I wasn’t close to her, I smelled the sweet scent of green apples clinging to her.

She dropped the towel, and I took in every inch of her slender, nude body. My cock had been hard while I was stalking her through the streets, but right now, the fucker throbbed painfully behind my jeans.

I watched as she grabbed a pair of underwear from her dresser, her movements unhurried, her expression showing she had a lot on her mind. She bent over to put her panties on, and I stared at her pert little ass, thinking about how that fucker at the diner had touched her there. My nostrils flared with that weird-feeling spark of… rage?

That feeling mixed with the fact that she didn’t know I was there, hidden and watching her every move, made me salivate to fucking burst out of the closet and just take her right now. I wanted to claim what I fucking wanted, no matter what.

But I stayed still and quiet and got off on being a voyeur.

Once her panties were on, she climbed into bed, pulled the covers up to her chest, and grabbed the book she had on her bedside table. It was about twenty minutes of me watching her read before her eyes fluttered shut.

With an exhale, she set the book aside, reached up to shut the lamp off, and curled up to fall asleep. Iwaited, staring at her still by the faint glow coming from the light in the living room, as the minutes passed and her breathing slowed.

---