WARNING: Contains the description of the book "The Impaler" by Gregory Funaro!
Visions: An experience of seeing someone or something in a dream or trance, or as a supernatural apparition.
———————————————————————
(Y/N) hasn't slept well since Tuesday. She tried her best to focus on the tasks she had but to no avail - the thoughts about the near future infested her mind like the plague. Leaving that letter was basically signing consent for her death. It was too late for her to take back time, and running no longer was an option.
Thursday night wasn't any different as the last two nights. She would sit and watch the TV, take a shower and then go and try to sleep for at least three hours. It was awkward in her own home.
The feeling of being watched never left her alone, but she knew why. She knew why, which was the reason for her restless nights. Since Tuesday, she had been sitting on her chair near the kitchen table, pretending to look at the TV or read a book. The girl would glance outside from time to time. Paranoia ate her alive, she had no other choice but to make sure if she was imagining things.
When she spotted him she had no outer reaction. Completely still she'd continue pretending to do her own thing, leaving him outside to stare. The biggest mistake she could make now is show that she's aware of his presence. This meant she couldn't pull her blinds in the living room. She's never done it before anyway, doing so now will only look suspicious.
The inner reaction was hellish. She could feel her heart beating everywhere. Her head began feeling hot, the sudden stress overflowing through her body which made it hard to focus on anything. The entire situation made her brain recommend crazy ideas - What if you just turn around and look straight at him? He wouldn't be able to do anything, right?
No.
Now, turning off her TV, the girl went to her room, closing the door behind her. Tip-toeing to her bed, she crouched and pulled out an old vintage box from underneath her bed. The box held a gun with a couple of bullets in it, which is something (Y/N) hoped she'd never need to use. It was her paranoid father who gave it to her while driving to her new place. "For protection" he had said. She remembered how uneasy she felt when he gave it to her.
(Y/N) had no idea how to properly shoot with a gun, only the basics that her father taught her, so she found it weird that she was even given one. The girl had argued with her father back then, telling him how she doesn't need it.
Good thing he didn't listen to me.
Loading the gun, she made sure to put the safety on to prevent the gun from firing while she slept. She planned to keep it underneath her pillow, knowing that it was only a matter of time when the masked man is going to attack.
She did lock all of her windows, of course, but who's to say that he doesn't know how to get through it. Placing the gun underneath the pillow, (Y/N) sighed and went to sleep.
God, I better end up in a documentary.
It was somewhere around two in the
morning when (Y/N) woke up for no reason. She felt sick, but was too tired to go to the bathroom. The girl laid in her bed with both her eyes open, staring at the dark corners of her room. Her vision was foggy, eyes watering due to constant yawning.
Looking around the dark room, (Y/N)'s eyes landed on the mirror that faced her bedroom door and hallway. The shadowy reflection of a humanoid figure made her jolt up in shock. Rubbing her eyes, she looked at the mirror again only to see nothing there.
Falling back into her bed, (Y/N) slid her hand underneath her pillow just in case, letting sleep consume her once again.
"Haven't slept well?" (Y/N) darted her eyes towards her coworker that stood by the register. Tanya watched her with a small smile, (Y/N) noticing how she wasn't wearing a ponytail today, her blonde hair framing her oval face.
"Yeah, my head hurt and medicine wasn't helping." The girl lied, placing her things away and moving her hair from her face. She couldn't afford to tell Tanya the truth. Knowing her, she'll get worried and force her to move to her apartment for a while.
She'd probably try to get the police involved, but how can they help if there's no evidence? Letters could be, but it was a small possibility that they would take it seriously. As if they'd believe that she has been exchanging letters with a murderer based on that.
"You seem quite out of it, have been actually for the past couple of days. Is everything okay? I'm here if you need help (Y/N), you know this already."
The girl felt awful for lying. She wanted help, but she knew nothing about the nature of her stalker. She couldn't risk putting others in danger because of her own mistakes.
Offering a weak smile to her coworker, she spoke tiredly, "No need to worry, I've been focusing on my college more, the professors decided to bombard us with work so..."
"Are you sure that's the case?" Tanya questioned, not believing her fully.
"Yeah, seriously. But it's going to pass soon, don't worry. They usually give us a lot of work before the holidays anyway, so it's normal."
(Y/N) couldn't really pinpoint the expression her coworker showed, but it was a mixture of concern and doubt. She hoped that Tanya would just drop the subject and move on.
"Alright, if you say so." She paused before speaking again, "You're on the tables today, I'll take the register."
Just like that, the two started preparing the small place for its opening. Hopefully it would be a busy day, even if it was Friday. (Y/N) desperately needed a distraction.
Jack walked to the tree with a new book in his hands. He had done a little bit of his own research, finding the prequel of the book his human recommended. When reading the description of the book, he couldn't help but grin. The girl apparently loved giving the eyeless boy puzzles to solve.
A Killer Without A Conscience.
"The crimes are barbaric. The victims are found in desolate rural areas, naked and impaled on long wooden stakes. There are no clues. No DNA evidence. Just a message, etched over and over again on one broken body: I have returned."
That was a part of the description "The Impaler" offered to Jack. From the description alone he had figured out that she was fully aware who her stranger was.
Fair, he knew who she was as well after all.
Reading her letter, the boy immediately noticed that she had figured out the meaning behind his last line. He could smell the fear in the air. The letters engraved on the paper looked more broken than the ones on other sentences.
Taking his own paper, he began writing the response. He couldn't wait to formally meet the little lamb.
Three students sat at the pastry shop, eating their snacks and exchanging notes from classes.
"I can't read all of this by next Friday."
"Sucks to be you Andrew, maybe if you started at a normal time you wouldn't be in this position."
(Y/N) watched as her two friends bickered over the homework and studying they had to do. She didn't even have the half of work they had, considering that she'd been studying at home while Oliver was with her. The most she'd have to do is revise, that is if she is alive by the time her professors decide to give them tests.
"(Y/N) would you give me your notes? Lauren's notes look like she had written in Cuneiform."
Andrew pleaded, the look in his eyes making (Y/N) laugh. Taking out the notes from her bag, she handed them to Andrew.
"Here, but if you get any type of a stain on the papers, I swear I'll kill you." She half-joked. Obviously she wasn't going to kill her friend, but she really didn't have the energy, or time, to write the notes again. Sitting with her friends like this, she would forget about the problems she was facing, enjoying the nice time with them as much as she could.
"What are you guys planning to do for the holidays?" Lauren's question snapped (Y/N) out of her thoughts. What was she going to do? It was Fourth of November already, the holidays were approaching, and (Y/N) had no idea if she will make it by then. Hell, even if she did, she can't go home.
"Celebrating with parents, the usual. You?" Andrew spoke, not letting his gaze leave the notes he skimmed through.
"Mom wanted us to go visit the family, I really don't want to go, but not like I have a choice... What about you (Y/N)?"
"Probably going back home to celebrate with my and Oliver's family."
"Probably? There's a chance you won't go?" Lauren asked, making Andrew look up at the (H/C) haired girl. The two waited for a response, obviously confused with the previous answer. She understood why, last year she couldn't stop talking about how much she missed her family and Oliver. The main topic during that time was just (Y/N) beaming about going home.
"Oh, uh, no, it's not like that at all. I am going for sure. Sorry, I haven't slept well last night, had a headache." The girl lied again. It hurt her to think about not being able to go home this year. She'd either have to stay during the holidays and make up a stupid excuse or just straight up die before the holidays. It was frustrating.
The girl chose to change the subject and focus on having fun for now, there was plenty enough time to think about everything else at home.
———————————————————————
Bye this is such a long chapter I am so sorry-
I hope you lots enjoy though, that's all. Take care of yourselves! <3