Dark Alley

"Mr. Kane," the interviewer stammered, recovering his composure with a forced smile, "What an unexpected honor."

Alexander's eyes never left Evelyn. "Miss Stone," he said, his tone as smooth as velvet, "I trust my unannounced visit isn't too much of an inconvenience?"

Evelyn felt a cold shiver run down her spine, her heart racing. This was the man she had only known from afar—through newspaper articles and whispers of his influence. Yet, as he spoke her name, he seemed to know every secret that she held within. She took a hard swallow, doing her best to keep the voice steady. "Mr. Kane, I think you have me at something of a disadvantage," she said, her voice mere whisper. "We never were properly introduced."

Equally flustered, Ryan jumped in with, "Ah, yes, Mr. Kane, this is Evelyn Stone, the author of the novel we are discussing. Evelyn, this is."

"Alexander Kane," he said, holding out his hand. "A fan of your work." His smile was so perfect, yet the glint in his eye gave her a shiver down her spine. She clasped his hand, firm despite the shake in her voice. "I promise you, Mr. Kane, I have never had the pleasure of your acquaintance before."

He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. "Let's keep it that way, shall we?" His words were a clear warning, yet wrapped in the velvet of politeness. The scent of his expensive cologne filled her senses, an overpowering presence that seemed to suffocate the very air around them.

The interviewer, feeling the sudden change in the room, cleared his throat awkwardly. "Mr. Kane, would you like to join us?" His voice was hopeful, but the underlying nervousness was palpable.

Alexander's smile reached an almost challenging level of stillness, causing the crowd's whispers to be full of anticipation. He turned his shining eyes toward the reporter. "That will be okay. I have actually come here to see Miss Stone in private. We have a kind of matter that needs discussing-professional in nature."

Ryan's eyes widened, his smile slowly slipping into a mask of confusion and fear. The audience's whispers grew into a cacophony of murmurs and gasps, the energy in the room thickening. Evelyn felt a cold hand grip her heart as the reality of the situation dawned on her.

"Mr. Kane," she began, her voice firm despite the tremor, "I'm afraid I don't have any professional matters to discuss with you."

Alexander's smile widened, the crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. "Ah, but I insist. It seems your words have sparked quite the interest in me—and in what you write about. I'd like to offer my own. insights, shall we say?" His tone was polished, but the steel beneath was unmistakable.

The crowd of faces was excited and horrifying all at once; they were all leaning forward into the unfolding drama before them.

"I'm sorry," she said, standing straight, "but I have an interview going on here. How about we plan a time to talk soon?"

Alexander leaned in closer, his voice so low that it caused shivers down her spine. "If you want every person here to return home alive, then come with me quietly." His breath tickled her ear, sending jolts of fear in her body. "You have written so much about me. You must know at least this much."

The studio lights dimmed around them as Evelyn's heart began racing from the heat of his presence. The only thing she could feel was the tension between them, like a bubble in the air. She knew what he was implying: his power and the potential danger. But she was not going to be intimidated by a man whose influence she had only ever read about.

"Very well," she said, forcing a smile onto her lips, her voice steady. "I'll join you after the interview. I'm sure we can find a quiet place to talk."

Alexander's eyes narrowed, but the smile never left his lips. "I don't think that'll do." His hand reached out, the gesture seeming friendly, but the underlying threat was clear. "Fast, I also want to know about you." His gaze was so sharp it could have cut glass, and he smiled mischievously as he took a seat in the audience, his presence like a storm cloud looming over the set.

Ryan sweat beading on his forehead, quickly wrapped up the segment, his voice shaky. The cameramen and production crew remained frozen, unsure of what to do next. The air in the room was charged with anticipation and fear, the kind that comes from knowing you're about to witness something you shouldn't.

Evelyn stood, her legs shook, and she approached the extreme edge of the set. Her heart was pounding in the chest, palms were so wet with sweat, because she could feel Alexander gazing at her, she didn't dare look up. As she stepped from the stage, the clap of her heels on the concrete floor seemed to echo the room that fell silent before her.

Ryan watched, mouth open, as Alexander reached out and took firm hold of her arm. Her eyes darted to his, found only anger and determination. He pulled her closer and bored his eyes into hers. She felt the full force of his grip. His fingers dug into the flesh of her arm. "My mansion," he growled, his voice low and menacing, "will feel much better from now on because you'll be in it."

Evelyn's fear spiked. She tried to pull away, her heart racing, but his grip tightened, his eyes never leaving hers. His voice grew louder, more insistent. "You've invited your own doom," he spat, his teeth clenched. "I despise people who try to know more about me than they should. Now, I want to know more about you than I should." His grip grew more violent with every word, shaking her like a ragdoll.

Her thoughts were racing. This was not possible. He was the man she had written about. The one whose power was whispered in veiled tones. The name itself would send shivers down the spines of the city's elite, and now he was holding her in his palm, feeling the full impact of his anger.

The lights in the studio flickered and died with a dramatic pop, plunging the room into sudden darkness. Audience gasped, the only sound in the void was the rapid patter of her heart and the rustle of fabric as she jerked her arm free from his iron grip. This was the moment she'd feared for years—the moment her past and her present collided in a way she'd never anticipated.

Evelyn's mind fast-forwarded back to that fateful night she had wished would leave her alone, the night, a monster she'd never have to confront again. Now, there was the very monster gazing into her eyes. She knew she had no choice but to move now. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she sprinted off, her eyes adapting rapidly to the faint light seeping through the windows.

Her friend, Sophie, had waited outside the studio, an anxious knot tightening in her stomach as she watched the live broadcast. The moment the lights went out, she knew something was wrong. She bolted towards the emergency exit as her heart hammered in her chest. It burst open, and she fell into the hallway just in time to catch a glimpse of Evelyn sprinting down toward her. Her face was a mask of terror.

"Evelyn!"

Her voice came as a wild whisper as she grasped at her friend's arm and pulled her into the darkness. "What's going on?"

The footsteps sounded louder, heavier, more determined, in the direction of the stage. Evelyn's heart was racing as she recognized the rhythm-it was Alexander. Dark was their ally, but it was also a prison, a place where he could be anywhere and wait for them to slip up.

"We have to get out of here," she panted, gasping in short breaths.

Sophie nodded, her wide eyes filled with terror. "Come on, I have a plan." She led Evelyn through the back halls of the studio, turning and twisting through the maze of corridors, trying to lose any pursuers in the confusion. She could hear panic and pandemonium spreading from the main stage, but neither of them dared to turn around.

Alexander, angry at this sudden loss of his prized treasure, drew out his pistol. Shining steel stood in jarring contrast to the impeccable suit. Deafening in the enclosed space was the shot into the ceiling; plaster rained down on a terrorized audience. He gazed into the dark; his eyes blazed like ice. He hadn't expected her to have the temerity to run, but he wasn't surprised. She was the one who had dared to write about him.

Screams and pandemonium increased as people rushed toward the exits, pushing chairs out of their way and tripping in the rush. Evelyn and Sophie slipped through the confusion, their hearts pounding with the unmistakable beat of Alexander's footsteps coming closer. The corridors narrowed; the air was heavy with dust and fear.

In the dim light, Evelyn spotted a maintenance door. "Here!" she whispered urgently, yanking it open. They stumbled into a dank, cluttered space filled with cobwebs and old props, the smell of must and dust heavy in their nostrils. The door slammed shut behind them, echoing through the room like a gunshot. They held their breaths, listening as the footsteps grew louder, then paused outside.

He swept the corridor with his eyes, narrowing as he heard the far-off clang of the door. Each passing second stoked his fury higher. His hand tightened around the cold metal of his gun, but he knew she was close—nearly within his grasp, almost a taste he could savor.

Without warning, he spun around and fired a shot down the hallway, echoing the sound through the empty space. The bullet ricocheted off the concrete, sending shards of plaster flying. He knew it was a risk-she could be anywhere, hiding behind any one of the countless doors-but the thrill of the chase brought a sadistic smile to his lips.

Alexander crept through the shadows, his eyes scanning the earth for signs of their getting away. His heart raced in his chest, breath shallow. He hadn't felt this alive since he'd taken his throne on that night.

He pulled out his gun with a sudden ferocity that even surprised himself, pointed it to the nearest light fixture, and fired. The glass shatters, and the shower of sparks fell upon the concrete. The noise in the confined space is deafening as the light flickers and then completely died.

Evelyn and Sophie crouched behind an old, dust-covered sofa with eyes wide with fear. Darkness was now complete; they could only listen for the methodical steps of their pursuer drawing near. "We have to get out of here," Evelyn murmured, her voice barely audible.

Sophie nodded, her hand shaking as she rummaged through her jeans pocket for her phone. She managed to dial 911, her voice barely above a whisper as she gave their location. "Please, hurry," she pleaded into the receiver, scanning the room with desperation for any sign of escape.

They crept through the darkness. Their breathing was the only sound in that stifling room. The floor beneath their feet was sticky with something, the air reeking of fear and desperation. Each step was a silent prayer they wouldn't run into Alexander again.

Evelyn's mind reeled. How did he find her? How was he supposed to know she wrote a book? He was speaking again, louder this time, echoing his words down the long stretches of hallways like the ghostly whispering of some banshee. "Miss Stone," he called, his voice dripping with mocking. "You are lousy at hide and seek."

Her heart shot up to her throat while she moved her body aggressively, with the burning desire in her legs. The sound of him getting close was evident to her because his steps resembled the pulse of a countdown time-bomb going on to make them kill. They staggered into what seemed a storage room - with walls like cardboard boxes infested by mold, with rusty old metal shelves.

Sophie's grip on her arm hurt as she searched for an exit with him. There was darkness all around and only momentary flashes of light as they used their phones from time to time to find their way so that it wouldn't show them. They heard a door bang shut in the distance, the echo reverberating in the walls like a shot.

"He's found the stairs," Sophie whispered, her voice barely a breath. "We need to get out of here, now."

Their eyes scanned the room, frantic for any sign of an exit. Suddenly, Evelyn spotted it—a small, metal door, almost hidden behind a shelf. "Here," she whispered urgently, pulling at the rusted handle.

The door groaned in protest, but with a burst of adrenaline, she managed to wrench it open. They climbed as fast as their trembling legs would allow, the sound of their footsteps echoing like gunfire in the confined space.

As they reached the top, a hand slammed against the metal door from the outside, the force sending it crashing into Evelyn's shoulder. She stifled a scream, the pain searing through her. The lock was holding, for now, but she knew it wouldn't last. "Hurry," she gasped to Sophie, her eyes fixed on the shaking handle.

The step grew louder, the labored breaths heavy with anger, echoing up the stairwell. "You're just delaying the inevitable," he shouted, voice rebounding off the chilly metal walls. "You can't hide from me this time".

Panic coursed through Evelyn, driving her to move faster up the stairs. They made it to the top and she threw all her weight against the door. It swung open with a clang, revealing an alleyway dimly lit, cool night air a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the stairwell. They stumbled out into the night, the cold cobblestones biting at their heels.

"This way!" Sophie yelled, dragging Evelyn down the alley. They ran as fast as they could down the alley's narrow passages. The alley opened onto a bustling street, and without a word, they dived into the throngs of people, pushing their way through the crowd.

Evelyn's legs felt like jelly as she stumbled toward the first cab available. She threw herself into the back seat, breathless and shaking. "Drive," she managed to choke out to the startled driver.

Sophie scrambled in alongside her, slammed the door shut, and locked it with a finality that seemed to echo through the night. "Just drive," she panted, her eyes wild with fear. The taxi lurched forward, tires squealing on the damp pavement, and they sped away from the chaos of the studio.

Alexander ran out into the alley, the cold night air a slap in the face. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the retreating tail lights of the taxi. "Damn it," he muttered to himself. His hand tightened around the gun.

He took a deep breath, the flavor of defeat bitter in his mouth. He watched as the taxi turned the corner and disappeared from view; the sound of its engine faded into the distance. His eyes swept the alley, his mind racing with thoughts. He'd lost her, but he knew he'd find her again. This was only the start of their little game.

But that woman had helped her escape. Again she escaped. The first time had been a fluke, a stroke of luck for Evelyn. He'd have to deal with her now. He stepped back into the shadows of the alley, his smile mischievous. He had some plans for Sophie now.