Stalked

WARNING: This story includes content like swear words, signs of psychopathy, torture, etc. If you are sensitive to these subject matters, please feel free to not continue.

I hear footsteps following me, the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the smooth concrete sidewalk, my head still replaying the happy memories from this morning. It was strange that I didn't see Hudson today, but I guess he's sick.

Instinctively, I turn around to see... no one.

Unease makes its way down my spine and I turn back, ignoring my fear. My backpack heavy against me, I heave it up and hear the footsteps again.

I jerk around to see if I can see anyone. Still no one in sight.

Anger overwhelms me for an instant, but it's gone before I realize.

Then, I hear extremely loud footsteps and before I can turn, strong hands grip my shoulders and they shove me to the ground.

I land with a groan of pain and when I roll over, I see a hooded teenager with messy dark hair and a black bandana to match his hoodie. I recognize him in less than a second.

"Jonathan!" I grind out, still in pain.

The only response I get is a sound of annoyance. Then, he whips off his bandana.

"Fucking thing," he growls, then turns his blazing glare on me. "What do you think, Grace?"

"What do I think?" I respond, venom coating my voice. "That's an interesting question to ask, Jonathan, a very fucking interesting question to ask, after you've been stalking me."

Jonathan lets out a bark of laughter, then throws a blow at my face. I grit my teeth to shield my pain.

"I'm not stalking you exactly," he says, shrugging, his face impassive and cruel. "I'm more... on the raping side." He leans down and studies my face carefully, pinning down my arms and legs.

His eyes are a dark blue, so blue they seem black. They seem to smolder you bit by bit, and they're no doubt seductive as fuck. They travel to where my lips are and my heart starts pounding wildly. And not because I'm seduced.

Because I'm fucking scared.

"I don't want to hurt you too much," he whispers in my ear. "You're too beautiful to be dead. But I want you. I want you to want me."

"You can have anyone else," I gasp out. "Anyone else will want you."

Jonathan pauses. "I'm flattered. Is it because you have dear old Hudson? Well, guess where he ended up?" When I don't answer him, he leans even closer than before and continues, "He ended up digging his own grave."

I try to scream, but he presses a pale hand over my mouth. "Hush now," he whispers. "Don't fuck this shit up."

"You are really beautiful, Grace, you are. I want you, more than Hudson ever did. And now I have one problem out of the way," he continues, his voice soft and seductive.

"Anyways, you've never really had any feelings for me, Grace. Because you were too obsessed with good ol' Hudson Caldwell. But guess what? He's gone now.

"Don't make me hurt you. I've always liked you. Killing you now would be a shame."

Jonathan leans closer and closer, making sure every part of me hurts. I smell his faint scent of vanilla and strawberries and my heart pounds faster and faster, louder and louder, more and more.

His fingers travel to my pulse and I feel it beating against his hand. His nails, sharp as claws, dig down and I feel blood flowing out of the wound.

"No one will notice you," whispers Jonathan. "After all, if someone comes, I'll just say you accidentally cut yourself and I'm checking to see if you're okay. And loss of blood will probably make you delirious.

"I suppose I can get a little more pleasure out of this. After all, it's rare that I get out of my class when you leave. Rarer that you didn't notice me."

And that's when I realize there's no way I can escape now. Now, my fate is in Jonathan's hands.

He leans down for a kiss, his breath minty as he pressed his lips to mine, removing the hand covering my mouth. Then, he pulls away, his eyes gleaming.

"What now, Grace? I'll get off you now. Are you gonna run, or fight me, or talk shit about me to people?" Jonathan's grin suggests something's bad will happen, so I don't answer.

"Or would you want to come to my car?"

Before I can reply, he has his hand wrapped around my wrist, his grip strong and tight and painful.

I try to cover up my hurt, but he notices when he turns around.

"Oh, sorry, did I grab you too hard?" Jonathan asks dryly, his laugh cruel and cold.

He shoves me into the backseat of his car and gets in after me. He pins me to the seats again and smiles psychotically. "Now, time for the pain to actually begin."

I close my eyes on his command and suddenly I feel intense agony surging through me. I scream and when I open my tear-filled eyes, I see Jonathan looking down at me, his grin twisted.

"If you don't agree to do this peacefully, I guess I have to do it painfully. Guess I'm lucky to have a soundproof car."

I close my eyes and again, I feel the almost intolerable pain tearing through me. Then, I feel Jonathan slipping a blindfold over my eyes.

"Please," I choke out, begging. "Please, stop." I scream as the pain sears through my entire body again.

"What, can't I have some fun?" he asks as he does what he did again, his sharp laugh echoing against my tortured screams.

"I told you, you're too beautiful to die. But what use are you if you won't feel for me?" Jonathan takes the blindfold and smiles, this time full of sorrow.

"I'm sorry. But I want you to see one last thing." He holds up a knife, then brings it down... into my arm.

"You're still too beautiful to die. So I'll give you pain instead, this torture.

"And don't you want to be saved, Grace? Don't you want to be spared from this agony, this pain?" He pauses, then continues. "I know it hurts. I can make it hurt more, if you'd like."