Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 24966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Who are you?” I called out, my voice steady despite the anxiety that gnawed at me.
He didn’t answer, but I knew he wouldn't. True predators didn’t lower themselves to the level of their prey.
I should have walked away. Ran. That was what everything inside me was screaming. But instead of turning and leaving—which was what a smart person would have done who wanted to survive—I took a step closer.
Something in me was drawn to him. I was pulled toward the evil that surrounded him. Once again, I was sabotaging my life.
I wasn’t sure why I thought or felt like this, but I knew one thing.
This wasn't the last time I’d see him.
4
ROMAN
She knew I was dangerous enough to finally take back the step she had moved toward me, and then another, before turning and leaving.
And I let her walk away. It had been easy as I studied my prey, noticed her fear and anxiousness, and made sure I knew how she naturally reacted to my presence before I made a move.
But even though I let her leave, I stayed in the shadows and followed her. This time staying perfectly quiet instead of purposely allowing her to pick up on my company.
I watched her, hidden in the darkness of the alleyways and streets as she hurried to wherever she felt safest.
The city swallowed many whole, eating them alive until they were nothing but bones and blood and desperation.
My dark beast kept me anchored to her, dragging me along, so I was forced to follow. I was a bloodhound caught on her scent, and nothing and no one could otherwise sway me.
I kept replaying the way she stared at me, so defiant yet curious. I knew the shadows kept me concealed, but I’d seen her clearly on that abandoned street as she narrowed her eyes at me.
So strong, yet she was terrified.
Knowing that—watching her—had ignited something unfamiliar deep in my core.
The streets were quiet, just the occasional hum of traffic in the distance, but she didn’t look back again. She didn’t run. And I didn’t stop. Not until I leaned against the brick building as I watched her cross another street.
The entire time, she never checked over her shoulder, but I wondered if she was doing it purposely, if she actually could sense my presence even though no one else ever would’ve picked up on it after breaking our standoff. I knew I was hidden, but something in her eyes when we stared at each other for those tense moments just minutes ago told me she was so much different than all my other prey before her.
She walked with purpose, but there was an uneasiness in her steps, like she couldn’t shake our encounter. That awareness...it only made me want her more.
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 disappearing inside 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 outdated lamp 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.