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

Third Person's POV:

Rose sat in the now-empty house, wrapped in silence.

Somehow the silence of her home felt more oppressing then before; like even the house knew that she was now utterly alone.

Previously, weekends were something she looked forward to—lazy mornings, college-free afternoons, and an excuse to procrastinate.

But now? Now, the realization that she had no reason to leave the house, no plans to keep her occupied, sent a hollow feeling creeping up her spine.

Curled up on the couch in the living room, she hugged her knees to her chest, pressing her back deliberately against the view of the windows overlooking the backyard.

It was still daylight, and so far, she had never seen him—it—venture out under the sun. That thought alone brought her some small comfort.

For now, at least, she had time before the darkness brought him back.

That thought sparked an idea, a desperate, reckless burst of inspiration that had her springing to her feet.

She set her coffee mug down on the table, nearly spilling it in her haste, and rushed upstairs to her room.

Once inside, she yanked open her closet, rummaging through the disaster she had left in there days ago.

Her search wasn't for the missing jacket or the dress she had worn to the party, though their unexplained absence still gnawed at the back of her mind.

Right now, this was time for something else entirely.

After pushing aside a pile of clothes, she reached behind them and pulled out a bag she had tucked away after her little shopping spree at the pawn shop.

She unzipped it, her breath easing when she saw the contents still inside, untouched.

Well, at least the paranormal hasn't figured out how to steal from my closet yet. That's something, right?

With a newfound determination, she pulled out a small wooden cross, running her fingers over the smooth surface before lifting it to her lips.

"Alright, big guy," she murmured, voice laced with sarcasm but also a hint of hope. "You're my savior now. No pressure."

Truth be told, Rose had never been a particularly religious person. Growing up, church had never been a major part of her life. But right now?

Right now, she would grab on to whatever higher power out there that gave her an edge, anything that could keep him out.

She spent the entire morning and well into the afternoon preparing her house, arming herself with relics like a warrior going into battle.

Crosses—lots of crosses—were strategically placed, hung along the walls, and concentrated in key areas of the house. The living room, her bedroom—anywhere she felt most vulnerable.

Sage bundles were carefully positioned near her bed and across the window sills, their pungent scent a reminder that she was at least trying to fight back.

If anything supernatural had an allergy to sage, it was about to be very uncomfortable in her home.

By the time Rose was done she was exhausted from all the climbing the steps and ladder and hammer work she did hanging everything around- but the coming result was worth it.

She finally felt like she was safe in this house now.

He can not get to her anymore. Not when she was being protected by the power greater then him.

106. Rose's Preparation