Page 3 of Stalking Christmas

Thank fuck, a few more hours, and I might have had to just torch the building with all of them inside. I’ll save the possibility of doing something like that for another day, it could be amusing to watch them scream and try to get out, after I’ve blocked all the exits. Great, now I have a chub, thanks to the images my brain just supplied.

I bite down on my bottom lip, attempting to distract myself from my murderous thoughts, the itchy beard getting on my nerves, as I wait for my mark to come out. When she finally does, she’s covered from head to toe in ugly red and white flannel pants, and a thick, puffy gray jacket. With her auburn hair pulled into a messy bun, and her makeup wiped from her face, she’s almost unrecognizable. She looks somehow younger, less harsh, and more innocent now than she did inside, under the lights of the club. She walks arm in arm with another female, the both of them giggling conspiratorially as they follow two other women, who I’m pretty sure were the dancing elves from earlier, to a dark blue, rusted minivan. Fuck, this is going to be more challenging than I anticipated, I release a groan of frustration as I watch all four of them pile inside.

When their vehicle starts moving, I give them a head start out of the parking lot and slowly follow them at a distance. A new plan begins hatching in my head, to follow my bartender home and capture her from there. This might be even better thantaking her from the parking lot, since there’s less chance of me ever being linked to her this way.

The first stop drops one of the elves off at a small rundown bungalow, and she scurries inside. The next stop has my Chrissy, and the other female she was giggling with, stepping out and rushing onto a dilapidated porch of an old back-split house, with large, dirty windows and dingy siding, as they fumble with the keys. The minute they let themselves inside, they slam the door, and the minivan takes off down the street.Fuck, she has a roommate.

I drag my hands down my face with exhaustion and frustration. I should just give up for the night and head back to my place, and chalk this nightmare up to the fucked night that it is. I managed to get my hands bloodied after all, so some of the need has been sated. The reasonable part of me is telling itself to put the car into drive and head home, but the psychopath who lives inside of me is refusing to listen, and instead pulls around the block, parks the vehicle, and gets out.

I take a quick look around the street, keeping my eyes peeled for danger. Most of the houses in this neighborhood look either abandoned or run down, far from the glamor of Newbury Street. My Mustang sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the broken-down beaters, rotting wood fences, and trash-littered sidewalks. Fuck, I’ll be really pissed if my car gets stolen, or broken into, here.

I jog around the corner, keeping to the shadows, with my eyes and ears open for anyone approaching behind me. It would be fucking hilarious to get mugged in my Santa costume, or, better yet, have a police cruiser shine its lights on old Saint Nick, and I end up in the slammer for being a peeping Tom. I can picture my dear old dad’s malignant face if he received that call in the middle of the night.Governor Brantford, can you please explain why your oldest son was peeping in women’s windowsin an impoverished neighborhood?The privileged fucker would have a stroke. It might just be worth it if the fucker actually died.

When I’m three houses away, I decide to slip through backyards, rather than approach the house from the front. It’s a little more tedious, having to climb over fences and hide behind different sheds, but I don’t want to take any chances if someone comes out and shoots me. I doubt the residents here would have licenses to carry, or give me the benefit of the doubt. I finally make it into their back yard, press my back against the aged siding, and creep along its perimeter until I come to a window. I peer inside cautiously, trying to keep my Santa costume in the shadows.Fuck, I should have taken this shit off. It’s too late now.

The room I glimpse into is partially dark, with only a small lamp in a corner giving off a muted glow. It’s a sitting area with mismatched furniture, throw pillows on the surfaces and on the floor, and shadowed artwork that I can’t make out. I don’t see Chrissy or her roommate; the room is empty.

Dammit.I wait a few more minutes just in case, but when no one comes, I keep moving until I encounter another window. This one has old plastic blinds pulled down over the glass, but various rows are missing chunks, so I can still see within. It’s a bedroom, the overhead lights are on, and I spy clothing discarded everywhere, piles of stuff on every surface, an unmade bed, and a small television on a dresser, playing what looks like cartoons.What the hell, is there a kid in there?

I try pulling on the bottom of the window to see if it will lift. After making a groaning noise, that I swear could wake the dead, and announce my presence to the whole street, it gives a little, and I’m able to slip my fingers below it. I’m about to pry it further up, and lift my body through the window, when a noise alerts me to the fact that I’m no longer alone. A deep growl makes the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand onend, and the fading moonlight catches the glow of two luminous eyes, and sharp white teeth.Fuck, that’s either a damn wolf, or a really big dog, but either way, I’m toast if he gets closer.

I immediately pull my hands back, reach for my blade tucked in my pants, and start slowly backing away from the house and towards the street. The dog takes a few steps towards me, its huge paws looking as menacing as its teeth, as it snarls at me and saliva drips from its large mouth. Where did they get this thing, the bowels of hell? Fuck, its neck is wider than my thigh; this thing is going to rip me apart if I don’t get out of here.

“Goodhellhound, you stay right there,buddy,“ I whisper, the sound of my blood whooshing in my ears.

“Toothless! Where are you, buddy? It’s time to go night-night, come on, little friend,” a woman’s voice calls from the back door, and the massive hound’s large head turns on its neck to look in that direction as its ears twitch.Toothless? Little friend? Is she fucking kidding?This monstrous thing has nothing but teeth to rip a man to shreds. I take another step back, and he growls and moves closer to me, ignoring the woman’s commands. “Where is that sweet boy?” I hear the voice moving closer and closer, and dread starts to fill me. In all the years I’ve been killing people, I have never been taken down by a dog, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

“Come on, sweet buddy. Momma’s tired. Let’s go, handsome!” The voice sounds more annoyed now as it calls again, and the dog wavers on whether to attack me. “Do you want some peanut butter? Come on, and Momma will give you some treatos!” With a final snarl, the dog turns around and lopes off toward the voice calling him, its tail wagging. I see a hint of auburn hair shining in the moonlight, before the back door opens and closes, and I’m left standing flush against the side of the house, with my heart in my throat, and so close to peeing my fucking pants.

That was close, too fucking close. I’m pretty sure I saw my life flash before my eyes, and none of it brought me satisfaction. I haven’t murdered enough people yet, not to mention my pretentious asshole of a father would be relieved if I died. I won’t dare give him that gratification. I slide back towards the window, peeking through the broken blinds again, and I hear her voice through the opened crack. “What agood boyyou are, the goodiest, sweetest baby!“ She croons to the giant black monster who’s getting his head rubbed. A full-body shudder runs through me at the thought of those large teeth gnawing on my bones.

Fuck, there is no way I’m risking getting in there tonight, and being that beast’s chew toy. I need another plan, but it will have to wait until later. The miserable sun is getting ready to rise in the sky, and any meager amount of cover I had to disguise me out here is about to evaporate. With one final look in the window, my eyes trail over the silhouette of my current craving, then I force myself to leave the side of the house, and quickly make my way back to my vehicle.

Don’t worry, Chrissy. I’ll be seeing you realsoon.

Chapter 4

The Gift

Irelease a huge yawn, my body riddled with various aches and pains from the lousy few hours of sleep I got, thanks to the over one hundred and twenty pounds of fur ball that hogged my bed. The clingy bastard waits until I get up, his ears perked, and then takes over what’s left of the mattress as I start my day. “You’re just lucky you’re so damn cute,” I groan as he burrows deeper into my comforter, until only one of his large black paws is visible.

My groggy thoughts turn to last night at the strip club and how, despite working every day this month, I’m still going tobe short on rent, and all my credit cards are now maxed out. I need to find something else, something that doesn’t involve me wearing barely there clothing, and having assholes proposition me all night. The cuts on my arm catch my eye, and a scowl crosses my lips; that guy was such a jerk, and so was his creepy friend in that ridiculous Santa get-up. I’m so glad I got those two kicked out.

“What are you doing awake already?” I question my roommate Daisy as I walk into our rundown kitchen, and the smell of fresh coffee reaches my nostrils. She usually sleeps until mid-afternoon, since we both work at the club until the early hours of the morning, but she’s up after only going to bed five short hours ago. She groans as she clutches her head, no doubt feeling the after-effects of all the tequila shots she took with patrons, after she was done performing on stage. “Shhh, your voice is too loud,” she groans.

I pour myself a cup of steaming black coffee, and sit at the old, fake-wood folding table we eat on. I grin at her as I watch her in the misery of her own making. I don’t know why she does this to herself night after night. Mind you, if I had to take off all my clothes, and swing naked on a pole for a bunch of drunken horny fools, I’d probably be drunk too. It’s bad enough that I’m barely dressed, and have to serve them alcohol.

I reach across to the rickety bookcase we have next to the table, that serves as a pantry, and grab the chocolate cookie package. It’s one of the last few things we have left to eat in the house that isn’t in a can. “Here, eat some of those to help soak up all that tequila, and drink some damn water today. Your liver will thank me.”

She peeks one of her red-rimmed blue eyes through her fingers, and reaches for the cookie package with a pained moan. “Are you heading to the diner?” She questions with a mouthful of cookies.

“Yup, gotta leave soon, or I’ll be late.” I take a few more sips of my coffee, hoping that it will wake my tired ass up, for the long day of waitressing at the diner down the road, before I head for my bartending shift at the club later with Daisy. “I’m going to be tight with rent as it is, girl. I might need to bum some money off you for rent for a week until I can get caught up.”

“You know I’ll give it to you, but you wouldn’t need to work so many hours if you just stripped, or came with me to‘the hole’.You’d make rent in a few days, instead of busting your ass all month at both places and barely scraping by.“ She gives me a sheepish look, and I roll my eyes. We’ve had this discussion before, multiple times, in fact. There is no way I’m stripping at the club, I can barely stand bartending there.

A shiver races down my body at the thought of taking off all my clothes, and doing what she does at‘the hole’.If I thought the strip club was seedy,‘the hole’is a whole other level. The name is a pretty accurate description. Even though from the outside, it looks like an adult toy store, and inside, hidden in the back, is a completely different story. Various booths can be accessed for a fee by willing clients, where they can use the glory hole drilled in the wall to fuck Daisy, and the few other sex workers that work there. She swears that she is safe while doing it, and that the thrill, spontaneity, and anonymity of a faceless fuck, turns her on as well as pays her well for her tasks.

The images that rise in my head anytime I think about being used by a faceless stranger, having them fill my pussy, ass, or mouth with their cocks and fucking me, all while I have no idea who it is, causes my core to clench and my panties to dampen. I would never admit it to Daisy or anyone else, but it turns me on, and secretly, I know I have fantasies that would probably shock my outgoing and fearless friend.

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