Page 109 of Stalker's Toy

A dark thrill courses through me, setting my nerves alight.

"You clever bastard," I murmur, a mixture of awe and desire in my voice.

I think back to all those encounters, the fear and excitement mingling into an intoxicating cocktail.

It was Henrik playing his twisted game.

And I fell for it.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He's as broken as I am.

As hungry for darkness, for connection, for something real in this world of facades.

I slip the mask on, just for a moment, wondering what it feels like to see the world through Henrik's eyes.

The leather molds to my face, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the window's reflection.

It’s jarring—my pale skin, my haunted green eyes, framed by this symbol of dangerand desire.

"What are you doing to me, Henrik?" I whisper to my reflection. "And why do I like it so much?"

My heart races as I caress the mask's smooth surface, imagining Henrik's hands where mine are now.

The thrill of being hunted, pursued, desired so intensely it borders on obsession—it's intoxicating. I should run, but every fiber of my being wants to stay, to delve deeper into this twisted game we're playing.

I take the mask off and put it back in the drawer.

I should be horrified, should be running for the door.

But instead, I'm transfixed, unable to look away from this twisted gallery of myself.

"Oh, Henrik," I breathe, "what have you done?"

I pick the photos back up again, scanning through them, trying to understand.

The creak of the door startles me so badly I nearly drop the photos.

I whirl around, guilt and fear warring for dominance as Henrik fills the doorway.

His icy blue eyes sweep over the scene—me, caught red-handed with his secret hoard.

"Mia," he says, his voice low and controlled. "I see you've made a discovery."

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. "Henrik, I... I don't understand. Why do you have all these pictures of me?"

He steps into the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot in the tense silence. "You weren't meant to find those yet, my dear."

"Yet?" I echo, my mind reeling. "What does that mean? How long have you been... watching me like this?"

Henrik moves closer, his tall frame casting me in shadow.

I should step back, should put distance between us, but I'm rooted to the spot.

His presence is magnetic, drawing me in even as alarm bells shriek in my head.

"From the moment I first saw you," he murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face.

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