Chris Collins Imagines

Stalker

A/N: Hi guys, thanks so much for 5k reads! Here's an imagine... It's a bit different to my usual, quite dark but stick with it and be sure to let me know what you think! Please leave a vote on my imagines if you enjoyed them or think they deserve it.

A figure lurked in the shadows, watching the unfoldings of an out of control party. The dark of the night hid him and the loudness of the chaos hid any noise he made. Saturday nights were his favourite, the action, the emotion, the vulnerability. He craved it. His dark eyes, expertly scanning the scene. A group of young girls wore heels they could barely stand in and dresses that barely covered flesh. He scurried further across the bushes, getting a better vantage point. The girls were making an exit from the party, time to go home, sober up. One of the girls threw up a stream of pink liquid before collapsing onto the floor. Now he just needed the others to leave her, he would have his catch for the night. Easy. A high pitch sequel came from across the road, his attention got abruptly torn away from one vulnerable young girl to another. This girl was older. Externally, she ticked all of his boxes. Attractive in every sense of the word, entertaining, vulnerable and emotional. He smirked, thoughts of the other girl quickly diminishing. Black mascara was tear streaked down her cheeks and her voice was thick and emotional. "Why me, me me me all the time. Fuck my life!" She called into the night. Her friend, a much more plain character by comparison although undeniably beautiful tried to comfort her. "You don't need any guys in your life. Call it quits. He doesn't deserve you."

"I'm not good enough for him! I never have been."

"That's just nonsense!"

"What would you know!? Nobody has ever dumped you!"

The girl fumbled off away from her friend and he could just smell her emotion. His smirk turned fast into an evil grin. The dumped girlfriend. What was better than a vulnerable person? A heart broken person.

He dashed out of the shadows, keeping a 2 meter distance, within the tree line. He stalked her like a predator and it's prey.

She was smart, she may have been in a vulnerable, emotional and drunken state, but she was smart. The girl stuck to the busy roads and areas, holding her cell phone out. She may have been alone but if he made a move now, he would have been caught like a deer in the head lights. He came up to a parked car on the curb and decided to up the ante. He hot wired the car, which was second nature by now and rolled down the street, catching up with the girl in a few minutes. He pulled over next to her. "Need a ride?" He kept his head low, trying to hide his identity at all costs.

She continued to walk, ignoring him. He jutted his foot into the accelerator hard. He was not someone that should be ignored. "Get in the car."

"I'd rather not."

"You can barely walk, let me just take you to your apartment or something." he kept his hoodie over his head, concealing him for the most part.

"No. How old are you anyway, you sound like an old man."

She walked away, fast. The man rubbed his hands together, before getting out a cigarette. He watched the girl walk away, hips swaying, hair moving in the breeze. He bought a lighter to the end of the cigarette, setting it alight and sucked in the toxic fumes. A street sign was illuminated by the lamp post on the opposite side of the road. Crescent Lane. He exhaled, smoke filling the inside of the stolen car. He liked it easy, but games were funner. Hard to get, the chase was on. This new town looked like a one way road out of a situation that he could no longer contain. But the situation he was now in seemed a whole lot brighter. Old habits die hard.

10 weeks later.

You were walking down Crescent Lane and something about the area made you uneasy. You were walking home from work, just the same as every day when something caught your eye. A 1976 Volkswagen rabbit was precariously planted on the curb. You remembered back to the night someone wanted you to get in this car. It had to be the same. Who else owns this car that happens to be on this street. You walked over, curious, thinking that you might be able to remember who it was that tried to take you home. You were so out of it that night that all the details merged together and you didn't remember much at all about the person. You peered into the window, and saw the exposed wires. The car had been hot wired. Your heart involuntarily jumped and you looked over your shoulder. It was the middle of winter and the evening light was lessening with every second. You decided to back away and head home.