Page 48 of Silent Stalker

I clean my tools methodically, leaving no trace. Clara will understand the message. Nine ladies dancing. Three more days to go until my tribute to my goddess is complete.

After that, we will be together forever. Perfectly entwined by the murders she’ll never officially solve and an obsession that knows no bounds.

I slide into my Audi, the leather seat cold. My phone screen remains dark, and there are no notifications.

My fingers drum against the steering wheel – tap tap tap tap – faster and faster until the rhythm matches my racing thoughts. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. I’ve been biting my cheek again without realizing it.

“Answer me,” I growl, unlocking my phone for the hundredth time. The message thread with Clara stares back, my last text hanging unanswered:

Did you like my gift? The turtledoves suited you.

The dashboard clock reads ten p.m. Numbers blur as my leg bounces, heel tapping against the floor. She should be awake. She’s always awake at this hour – I’ve watched her enough to know her patterns.

My hands shake as I type:

What’s wrong, beautiful?

Delete. Type again:

I miss the sounds you make when you’re bound.

Delete.

The steering wheel creaks under my grip. Behind me, Sarah’s corpse is frozen in her final dance, but I can’t focus on my masterpiece anymore. There’s only Clara, Clara, Clara.

Are you ignoring me?

Send.

The read receipt appears instantly.

No response.

“FUCK!” I slam my palm against the horn. The sound pierces the night, sending a flock of crows scattering from nearby trees. Their wings beat against the sky like my pulse in my ears.

Answer me.

Send.

Please.

Send.

I need to know you’re okay.

Send.

Each message marks as read immediately. She’s there, watching, staying silent. My vision blurs red around the edges. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. She’s mine. She knows she’s mine.

We both know you’re awake, Clara. Don’t make me come find you.

I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white, peeling out of the community center parking lot. The engine roars as I accelerate through empty streets, snow pelting my windshield. My phone sits silent on the passenger seat, mocking me with its dark screen.

Red light. I blast through it. Another. The same. Traffic laws mean nothing when Clara dares to ignore me.

The streets blur past as I take corners too fast, tires sliding on the slick roads. My breath comes in sharp pants, chest tight with rage. How dare she? After everything I’ve given her – the pleasure, the pain, the perfect deaths laid at her feet like offerings.

Five minutes from her house. Four. Three. My hands shake as I park a block away, killing the engine. As I stride throughthe snow, the darkness wraps around me like an old friend. Her porch light burns bright, but the rest of the house sits in shadow.

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