Page 66 of Devious Delusions

I like watching you

Especially when you’re in your room

Or when you’ve just got out of the shower

The water drips down your hair to your nape

And I imagine what it would be like if it was red

I can smell your fear

I slowly walk backwards up the stairs and turn the vibrations off as I flinch at each heavy thud of his steps and corresponding vibration.

It’s not your fear, is it?

It’s that lying, cheating cunt crying out for me

Don’t run

Yet

You won’t get very far

He pauses on the opposite side of the wall like he knows exactly where I am. I’m the freak because I do the same and look down as though the plaster isn’t there and I’d be able to see him. Two soft taps hit the wall and I continue moving backwards again to get away from them.

As soon as I’m through the threshold, I hold the edge of the door and gently close it before looking for anything to barricade it. The room is empty and as much as I want to see him, really see him, the fear he evokes is more potent.

I’m not the one in control. He is. When it was on my terms and I’d be confronting him, I had some semblance of power. I had the upper hand. Not now that his steps are more pronounced. They get slower, heavier, as he takes the stairs, pausing between every step.

I blow out all the air in my lungs as I try to claw back control.

On his third step, I attempt to take over his game and respond to him.

ME:

Knock.

Knock.

I know who’s there

The heating pad brushes the side of my foot, making me shiver, and I dip down, picking it up without any sensible thoughts swirling around my head.

He takes three more steps and they’re quieter with my heart pounding. Before I can lose my newfound stupidity, I rip the door open and throw the long log-shaped heating pad at him. Adrenaline forces me to ignore the ache as I barrel towards him, and the low lights stop me seeing his face straightaway. It’s not until I’m closer that I see he’s still wearing a mask. It resembles a normal person rather than the modified clown mask and the skin-colored rubber doesn’t smell as he plants his feet with one hand flat against the wall to trap me as I collide with his ribs.

He wraps one arm around me as I try to run through him. It knocks us both off-balance and I push all of my body weight into my shoulder furthest from the wall to create a gap.

The narrow walls stop him falling as he grabs out with his free hand and steadies himself with the railing. But it gives me enough space to twist around him as he curses, and I grab the side of his hoodie in my fist as I slip on the sharp edge of the step.

It pulls him with me. His weight fully pushes into my back and I stretch my hand out in front of me to prevent smashing my face on the ground. My eyes don’t close, and my feet cross over each other in my haste to get away from him.

“Careful,” he barks and turns, wrapping both of his arms around my waist.

I’m pulled into his chest and kick back as he walks us down the remaining steps.

“Get the fuck off me, you sick fuck!”

My screaming doesn’t get him to loosen his hold. It has the opposite impact, with his arms tightening and pinning my forearms to my hips. My fingers pulse with the restricted blood flow and I throw my head back as my foot connects with his shin.

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