You had been moved into your apartment properly for a few months, and ever since you moved in you felt uneasy at night.
Maybe it was the stories you had heard, maybe it was living in the city that scared you from your previous home, or maybe it was just paranoia. But every night, returning home from work, you'd feel watched.
Tonight was Halloween, and the pizza place you worked at allowed you all to dress in costumes for the night. You were excited, seeing this as a time to connect with your co-workers and maybe make some friends.
You had also bought a really cute outfit, granted, it was a bit revealing. You would just put your apron over it and that should have made it fine.
The workaday was very underwhelming, no one really spoke to you or at least tried to make conversation. So you had just decided to work, being the only one to actually get things done.
The party was a small, boreing, corporate sponsored thing. Lame Halloween decorations, a container of sweets and if course, free pizza.
You took care to not ruin your outfit while also getting actual work done. You clocked out as soon as you could, feeling stupid and embarrassed.
You pulled on your coat, and pushed the doors open to get blasted by the chilly night air. You shuddered, suddenly and wholely hating your outfit choice.
You tucked your jacket close to your body, your nose and ears being nipped by the cold.
You didn't have enough money to buy a car just yet, so for now walking home at night in these creepy ass streets will have to do. You felt that senation again, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up again..
The feeling of being watched.
You hugged your elbows, head down fast pase to your house. Hoping to god nothing would happen.
Other than the heebie jeebies, and the cold, you still felt...elevated.
You felt cute in the outfit, and with distant Halloween music playing and the decor, the streets weren't that scary. It actually felt quiet homey..until the drunk passed you.
You could see him at the the top of the street, he wasn't too hard to spot. He staggered, going into people's yards or knocking into trash cans and unfortunately for you, you had to pass him.
He reeked of alcohol, and smelt like shit. he took a look at you, wheezing a laugh.
"Aye! Wasssa pre'y thin' like 'ou doin' out 'ere?"
You could barely understand him, and you just ignored him him anyway, hoping he wouldn't press you further.
Once again, rather unfortunately he did. He seemed offended that you had ignored his question.
"Hey! Hey! You stupid slut the fuck you think you are?!"
You flinched back from his words, feeling appalled and hurt.
"Dressin' like that..stupid whore. People shouldn't dress like that, your asking for it."
He spat, ambling away. You fought tears, holding your jacket closely and almost sprinting home.
Once at your apartment, you threw open the door, shed your jacket and immediately changed. You didn't feel cute in it anymore, you felt filthy. How could you have worn such a thing? It showed so much skin..
You deserved that treatment for daring to wear it.
Feeling bad for yourself, you walked into the kitchen to indulge yourself in some treats to get your mind off that drunk man.
A little while later your doorbell rang, not feeling like you want to answer for a package you didn't answer it. Your doorbell rang again. So you sighed, putting down your oreo and walking to the door.
When you pulled it open...no one was there. Frowning you looked around, your eyes being pulled down to a box. You almost threw up once you saw it.
You choked on a scream or a gag, as the drunks decapitated head sat inside the box with a letter in his mouth. Strangely, you took it.
Your hands now shaking heavily, you ripped the envelope open and read the content, trying not to openly cry.
Dear Y/n
I thought you looked lovely tonight, don't let scum like him tell you how to dress. Wear what you want my darling.. I loved your outfit and think you should wear more stuff like it, it suits you.
-secret admirer.
What the actual McFuck?