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

If he wants to linger like a creep, by all means; he can knock himself out, staring at my curtains all night long- hell for all eternity, for all I care.

Now that I was under the protection of the big guy himself and his big guns; I began to feel a semblance of peace ones more.

After grabbing a light dinner and reading a book, all the while pretending to focusing on those task and not at all on the shadow visitor I have standing outside.

Perhaps, he had left. If he has any sense to him, he'd have. Cause I aint about to make another appearances tonight.

Which means I am definitely going to sleep with my hand bound to the headpost.

Huh! what has my life come to; people do that for the sexy reasons and here I am doing it to avoid walking into the arms of death half willingly and half unconscious.

I entered my room quietly. I looked about, half expecting for the windows to be wide open like always, however, much to my relief that wasn't the case.

I deliberately kept the lights off as I went on about- using the torch from my phone.

When I was all ready for bed and a long night of slumber in peace after what feels like days; I made a silly decision.

I hesitated before walking back toward the glass window to my room.

Just to see if he was still there.

I peeked through the curtain, making sure I stayed hidden behind them as best as I can.

Let's see if he's given up like a smart stalker.

I'd have thought he isn't smart at all. He should know that I wont be giving him so much as my shadow tonight, weren't the curtains and no lights not indication enough.

However, I ended up commending him in my own head. As far as peepers go this one is rather resilient and somehow every perceptive.

He was no longer looking -or trying to look- through the windows in my living room anymore.

In fact his eyes were now positioned and so was his whole posture right towards my bedroom window as if he somehow knew I was now up there.

"Well, aren't you a persistent, fucker?" I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.

A frustrated, slightly manic laugh bubbled up in my throat soon fading awkwardly as my body realized it was still very much trembling in fear.

A sick game of patience had begun. One where I wasn't sure who would break first—him or me.

111. A Sick Game of Patience