AkumaQuil

He inches closer, a single finger roaming her heated skin. Breath mingling with breath. 

A loud bang vibrates through the room, so thunderous as if god himself was furious.

Slowly he looks up staring out the large glass windows to the backyard, 

"You have a visitor." His rasps calmly.

"Who?" Rose quickly fires, feigning ignorance. She knew well enough who it was. Her nightly visitor has arrived.

Surprising, He only visits when she is alone.

"One who comes out at night. Lurking in the shadows, in the darkness... just like its intensions."

He looks down still leaning on top her, once more pinning her with his intense gaze.

"Are you afraid?" His voice dead serious, eyes going back to look outside.

And Rose lied, "No." 

But is it a lie when her fear was never really rooting enough to make her run the other way but instead often getting mixed with exhilaration.

"You should be."  

He leaves her staring wide eyed on the sofa and goes to stand before the glass panes.

"It's not happy to see me here. I can see the raging pits of fire in it's gaze. Ready to burn me right where I stand." he chuckled, sounding most sinister, "It definitely wants to rip my innards out."

"You should take off your shirt." He suggests casually.

"Excuse me?"

"Let's see if it riles him up even more to shatter instead of just slamming the windows like a wuss." He rouses under his breath, his excited provocative tone not escaping Rose's attention. 

What the hell is he up to?

"This isn't funny." Rose sputters out, standing up from the couch.

"I'm not trying to be." He faces her again, sporting a deadpan face. 

"Whatever. You think I'm one of your stupid fan girls to take my shirt off just because you want to rile someone up? Besides, there's probably no one outside and you're only making it up to see my boobs like a pervert."

His eyes roams her from top to bottom, there was distaste evident in his gaze.

"When he comes at night and leaves a little something for you, maybe then you take off your clothes for him... like a slut." Rome stared into her eyes with nothing behind those icy orbs to show for a lack of meaning behind his words. Because he means every single thing he says to her.

"Get. Out. Now!" Rose boomed furiously. 

"Whatever, I was leaving anyway. This has become boring." He walks towards her front door.

"Wait. How do you know he comes at night and leaves something?" her eyes narrow.

"Because I've seen it before."

"You saw him? It is a real guy?" Rose wanted to confirm, for some reason she thought otherwise.

"I never said I saw him. I've only seen it happening to someone else." 

"Whom?" 

"You don't need to know." He closes off.

"Then at least tell me what happened to her? Can I meet this person?" 

"You can't." Refusing calmly he was almost out the door when Rose pleads against hope.

"Please."

"You can't because she disappeared." Those were the words that finally did it. Brought her racing heart and buzzing head to a sudden halt. "Never to be seen again." 

 "When he stops visiting, that's when you should be most afraid." His words rang like a siren in the silence of her mind as he left.

Now she felt true fear for the first time.

==

In the embrace of her ancestral town, Rose seeks refuge from the echoes of her past. 

Little does she know, her return to her roots will awaken dormant shadows, shattering ordinary her existence. 

For when the darkness falls over the town, from the pitch black rises a shadowy figure that haunt her nights. 

In the darkness he sweeps her off the ground in terrible fear and the allure of sinister intrigue.

And once the sun comes, a man with a god awful attitude, haunts her in the broad day light. Causing her to swell with pure disdain. 

With each passing night, it draws closer to Rose, casting a chilling spell that both terrifies and exhilarates her.

Thrust into a labyrinth of mysteries can she navigate the treacherous path laid before her, or will her nightly visitor consume her whole?

He Comes At Night

By the time I left the class, the halls were near to empty. What else does anyone expect, it's a weekend. No sane person would willingly hang around the halls with only the professors lurking about, ready to poach you for their 'extra credit' tasks.

After barely being able to convince mine for an extension, I wasn't going to stick around either, lest he changes his mind, or worse, find out that I have no flight this weekend.

In the parking lot with few cars remaining, I was making my way to my car with my satchel hanging weighty on my shoulders and neck bent down as I watched my shoe for the dirt sticking around the edges.

But these are quiet new, where did I go wearing them that had this much mud, can't recall a place.

A pebble lying in the way caught my attention and gave me the idea to take my frustration out on the poor thing.

Either that or I thought it wasn't too late to try my luck in football by practicing on pebbles as I kicked it with all the might I could conjure behind my swinging leg.

My eyes followed as the pebble flew in air for a few seconds but then began to descend in it's course.

It wasn't so shitty that it was coming back down, it obviously would. The problem lied in it's course of direction. Straight toward a very shiny, very expensive-looking vintage convertible.

God please don't let the owner of this car be anywhere around this lot.

I winced, pinching my eyes shut just as the pebble—now feeling more like a boulder—was about to make contact.

My eyes were still shut when I heard the unmistakable sound of jaggedy rock clanging against the metal body of the car. The sound was ugly as hell and it rang in my ear for a good long minute.

God, please don't let there be a scratch.

But then, he didn't listen to me the first time why would he now?

Even before I dared to open my eyes, I heard a deep, unapproved growl from nearby.

Oh great! He actually didn't listen to my prayer did he?

Bracing myself for some serious apologizing, I dragged my eyelids open painfully slow.

Without much thought, I hurried toward the assaulted car, its owner standing with his back to me, glaring down at the vehicle like it had personally offended him.

Another menacing growl rumbled from him before he finally turned.

And of course, it had to be him.

It just had to be my arch nemesis and his shiny car. Because why the hell not.

I had already begun babbling my apologies before my brain had the sense to stop me.

"Shit! I am so, so sorry. It was a mistake—"

I just groveled my contrite to the villain of my story.

I clamped my mouth shut, my half-formed apology hanging awkwardly between us like a bad joke with no punchline.

He was of course glaring at me with his arms crossed over his chest.

The scene would remind someone of a child getting in trouble with an adult with the way he was glaring down at me and I was silently standing there possibly looking sort of guilty.

And for a second—just a second—I almost felt guilty.

Until I remembered whose car it was.

Suddenly, I wasn't feeling that bad anymore.

"So it wasn't enough, huh?" Dracken sneered looking pissed. "Now you're taking it out on my car?"

I blinked up at him. What is he talking about? Slowly the gears began to turn and fit in my head. He is talking about me slapping him on the night of the party.

He thinks I am still hung up on that? Does he think I have nothing else in my life going on that I would still be dwelling on what happened and plan petty revenge against him?

Hate to break it to you, mister, but I have way bigger problems in my life right now than your insufferable attitude.

Wait, that's not something to boast about, is it?

84. My Arch Nemesis