Chapter 391

It started when she first moved into the old house. The place was isolated, nestled in the hills where the forest seemed to stretch for miles. Most people had forgotten it was there, but not him.

He had watched her for weeks before she even arrived, his eyes tracing her every move from the woods that skirted the property. His obsession was quiet, subtle, but it was there. And it grew stronger with each passing day.

Her name was Elena. She was everything he wanted, though she didn't know him, nor did she ever seem to notice his presence. She walked around the house in the mornings, tending to her garden, her hands moving gracefully as she worked the soil.

At night, he could hear the soft sounds of her life—her laughter, the clink of dishes in the kitchen. His heart beat faster when he imagined her alone, safe in her home, thinking she was free.

He would never let her go.

The first time he got close to her was when she was walking home from the grocery store. He had been following her from a distance, as always. That day, though, he made his move. He stepped into her path as she rounded the corner. She didn't see him at first, and when she finally looked up, her eyes widened in shock. She didn't scream, though. Elena wasn't afraid of him. She was polite, unsure, but polite.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said, offering a weak smile. "I'm just your neighbor. My name's Paul."

"Oh," she said, her voice tentative. "I didn't realize anyone lived around here."

Paul's chest tightened as he noticed the slight tremor in her hands, but it wasn't fear. No, it was something else, something more like discomfort. Elena wasn't afraid of him. She wasn't afraid of anything—at least not on the surface. She was too good for that. Too strong. Too perfect.

But she would learn.

Over the next few weeks, he watched her even more closely. He watched her routine from his hidden spot in the woods, never leaving his place of concealment, never making a sound. He knew where she would go, who she would talk to. He was careful to never leave a trace of his presence, but in his mind, he was with her at all times.

He learned about the men she spoke to. A neighbor named Greg, a friend from the city named Charles. It didn't matter to Paul. They were distractions, little more than shadows in her life. She didn't need them. She needed him. He was the only one who could protect her, keep her safe.

Every day, he plotted. He studied the house, the layout, the hours when she was home and when she wasn't. He knew the back door was always left unlocked when she brought in groceries, so that's when he'd go in.

He would be there, hiding in the dark, waiting. Elena would never know he was there, never understand that someone was always watching.

The first time he went inside, she was just finishing up in the kitchen, humming a soft tune as she cleaned the dishes. He stood just outside the doorway, watching her, and felt something inside him twist with satisfaction. She was so beautiful, so unaware of the danger that was right behind her.

But she would understand soon.

He waited for hours, hidden in the dark corners of her house. He wanted to know everything about her. He watched as she fell asleep, her peaceful face illuminated by the dim glow of the bedside lamp. She was so fragile, so trusting. He could almost taste her fear now, though it didn't exist yet. Not yet. But it would.

The next night, he returned.

This time, he let himself in earlier. He didn't need to hide anymore. He wasn't afraid of being discovered. Elena's routine had been cemented in his mind. When she went to sleep, he would be there.

And she was.

He moved to her room, his heart pounding as he stood at the edge of her bed. He just watched her sleep, his breath shallow. He could almost reach out and touch her, but he didn't. He wanted her to wake up and see him, but he needed her to understand. She needed to understand that he was her protector. He was the only one who could keep her safe.

When Elena stirred, he froze. Her eyes opened, and for a brief moment, she stared at him, confusion clouding her gaze.

"Who are you?" she asked, voice tight, barely audible.

He smiled, but it wasn't a smile she would recognize. "I'm the one who's been looking after you."

Her gaze hardened, confusion shifting to unease. "What do you want?"

His smile didn't falter. "You," he whispered, though no sound passed his lips. "I want you."

For the first time, Elena screamed. She lunged for the door, but Paul was faster. He was already standing in her way, blocking the exit.

"Please," she begged, her voice cracking. "Just go."

He stepped closer to her. "I won't. You're mine now."

Her eyes widened in terror, and in that moment, for the first time, she truly understood what he meant. There was no escape. No one could help her now.

As days turned into weeks, Elena's life spiraled into madness. She tried to leave, tried to run, but he was always there, watching, waiting. There were no more phone calls with friends, no more peaceful walks around the house. Her life became a prison, every movement monitored, every sound scrutinized. Her only company was Paul, who never left her side. She had no freedom, no voice.

One night, desperate, Elena locked herself in the basement, hoping to escape. She thought she had gotten away, but Paul had been one step ahead of her. He was there before she even had a chance to move.

He found her. Of course, he found her. He always would.

"Elena," he said softly, his voice now full of mock concern. "You can't run from me. You're mine. You'll always be mine."

She didn't scream this time. There was no point. She had learned that lesson too well. Her heart was no longer in her chest—it was in his hands. She felt herself withering, her strength draining away.

He stood over her, watching her crumble under the weight of the hopelessness he had forced upon her. And then he did something unexpected.

He took her hand. Gently, almost tenderly, he kissed her palm.

And then, with no warning, he snapped her neck.

It wasn't brutal. It wasn't violent. It was quiet, like everything about her life had been. Like everything about him had been.

Elena's body fell limp, her eyes still wide in disbelief. Her mind had been broken long ago, and now, she was gone.

Paul stared down at her lifeless form, a strange satisfaction settling over him. He finally had her. No one would take her from him now. No one would ever get close to her again. She was his, forever.

And as he stood there, surrounded by the quiet of the house, he finally smiled. The smile of someone who had won.