We follow

  We follow

The sound of heels beating against the broken sidewalk made him smile. He followed the sound, anticipation inside him. Ready to pop like a balloon. Soon. Soon he’d feel that soft flesh he’d been admiring beneath the warm lighting of a bar near his office for the last hour. Soon he’d see the light dim from her eyes and feel her sweaty skin cool. Soon. The word was a crescendo inside him. Bouncing around his bones like an echo. A sick promise he’d made to himself during the day between coffee runs when he’d catch just a glimpse of her. 

A pang of annoyance threatened to dampen his night like a random raincloud. This wasn’t her.

The receptionist in his office. The girl who passed his desk a hundred times a day. Her skirt swishing back and fourth, grabbing his attention. Her heels making her presence known, making every man turn their head a stare at the long legs she was eager to show off. 

She wore a ring on her finger and her pretty, red painted lips always ranted on about her new husband. Trying to make him jealous. 

His hands curled into fists, angry at the memory of how she smiled so innocently today after ‘accidentally’ spilling her tea on her white top. A string of new words echoed through him. He liked the way she stared at the large windows staring at the birds and clouds roll by. So sweet. So naive.  

 He wanted her here instead of the woman he’d met at the bar tonight. Wanted her so desperately that he almost broke his own rules and slit her tires and offered her a ride home. 

But he was wise tonight. Remembering the trouble of his past mistakes. He hated moving. So instead, he picked a woman he didn’t know. One that looked similar to Allison the receptionist. This would sate him. At least for now. He’d take Allison someday. Someday he’d be prepared to end his suffering. But today was not that day. 

He continued his hunt, mocking her for traveling so far away from the main roads. Fear did funny things to his girls. Fear made them crazier than they already were. He watched her turn down another alleyway and smiled, following her with the knife in his hands and a dark smile stretching across his shadowy face. Squawking calls made his neck stretch up to see a handful of crows circling the dark sky. They dipped and wove into each other, as if they felt what was going to happen here. 

  She ran as quickly as her heels would allow her to. Anticipation for what was to come curled through her. Her stomach sank, her mouth dried and that knowing sense of death watched over her much like a sinister promise.  

He’d approached her only an hour before, talking too smooth for a stranger at a bar. She’d sensed something in him then, something dark. A hollowness to his words that she knew all to well. Which is what made her leave. 

Which is what made him follow her. 

Down another alleyway, where the side walk became uneven and the streetlights became few, Emily waited between a rusted dumpster and a pile of old boxes. Back pressed against the stone wall, waiting as the shadow that’d been following her climbed up the wall. His footsteps were closer now, eerily slow and measured as if he knew it’d eventually come to this. Knew she’d end up making a wrong turn into a dead end. So he went slow. The pressure in his chest building up, the knife clenched in his sweat covered palms. She was right there. Hiding somewhere in this cruddy alley that’d soon become her grave. 

“I know you’re here.” He taunted. “There’s nowhere for you to go.” Emily watched him pass her, walking straight into alleyway, the shadows camouflaging her. He walked to the end where the stone walls concaved into each other, blocking the exit. “I’ll give you a chance. Not to live.” He laughed to himself, looking into the far corner, and kicking a stack of boxes. “But to die without must pain.” The shine of the blade he held glinted off the moonlight that’d followed them. 

“It’d be easier if you end this. End your suffering. The anticipation you must feel.” His tone smug made her rise from where knelt. 

He didn’t see as she slipped from the shadows with two silent steps. Emily watched him for a few heartbeats, waiting. 

He normally liked the feeling of eyes on him. The sensation stroked not only his larger than life ego but, he liked the challenge of the prowl while others watched. Until it came to pounce that was. But this was a different feeling. A cold one that he couldn’t quite place. He spun around on his heels to see her just standing there staring at him beneath the only light in the pathetic space.

 The dim, yellow glow caused her to look sickly, thinning her features and dulling her sharp blue eyes. 

 Taken a little off guard, he straightened. “Good choice.” He commended, surprised and a little disappointed at her decision. He dismissed those feelings, needing to focus on her and what was happening in this moment. He wanted to savor it and not depress it with questions and silly disappointments. So he took her in and all her moonlit glory. Memorizing how her pin straight dark hair caressed her face. Her blue eyes digging into the deepest parts of him like an icepick 

Cool air barred down the alley, ruffling her dark hair and playing with the edges of her dress.

Somewhere in the short distance, the sound of crows cried out, cawing and taking flight. A few took notice of the soon to be tragedy and rested themselves on the thick stone walls that blocked them in. 

Their smug smiles mirrored one another for different reasons. 

It was a cat and mouse game. “Matthew,” her voice was a soft whisper. A plea to his ears. 

“I lied,” He admitted, taking a long step forward. “My name isn’t Matthew,” 

She didn’t take a step back. Even when he was close enough to feel his warm breath against her cheek. “Mine isn’t Emily,” She admitted with a laugh that resembled chiming bells. The sound was somewhat haunting in the dark alley, causing his heartbeat to speed. 

With only a blink, the light above popped, causing shards of glass to rain down on them. 

Jerking back, he screeched from pain slicing into his arms as they rose, shielding his face from the sudden blow. He felt blood trickle down his arms and hands. Heard the rain like sound hit the ground in slow, steady splats. Smelt the all to knowing iron and salt hitting the air. 

 Was she hit? He wondered before straightening with a shaky, nervous breath. He hoped she hadn’t. He wanted to claim all the blood. All the bruises. Every slice to her skin was his. 

He hadn’t heard her scream. But did hear that catch in her breath after the loud pop. He frowned at the thought of a stupid, janky light getting that first gasp. 

Opening his eyes, he noticed the collection of glass on the floor, shards of fine dust and small slivers crunched as he jostled, trying to examine himself. 

The damage wasn’t terrible. Just tiny cuts up and down his arms and hands. Nothing that warranted any thought at all. 

He brought his attention back to her. Back to the reason of this whole night. The anticipation had to be worth it all. Worth not stupidly going after the receptionist. He gripped the knife in his hand ready to finally make the lunge when he stopped. The world around him seemed to condense. The alleyway shrank, moonlight slipping in and out of the shadows. Screaming crows filled the chilling air.  

“I was going to wait,” Her voice echoed in his head, causing him to drop the knife and grip each pounding temple. It was everywhere all around him. 

She was everywhere.

 The sound of her lush voice slammed through him violently, creating black and blue splotches across his entire body. His vision split into a thousand pieces, all tangling together and making him dizzy. He spun around, trying to find her, find the the mouth of the alley and make an escape, but every direction was her. Every way he turned was a dead end with whatever he’d foolishly lured.

His fingers gripped the short strands of black hair as if he could tug her out. He whispered that to himself over and over, “Get out, get out, get out!” 

And then it all stopped. The swaying. The voice pounding in his head. His vision returned to normal and for a few more heartbeats, the only sound was his heavy breathing. He found her again, terror paling his face as she smiled from only inches away. “Sorry to ruin your fun." She wasn’t sorry. 

“I have this horrible habit of playing with my food. You understand don’t you?”  

The alleyway was consumed with screams from that point on. Blood had been accidentally spilled, surging hunger and ending the cat and mouse game before it could truly start. The anticipation hadn’t been stretched out to her preference. But hunger won her uphill battle and completed the hunt. He pleaded like they all did. Begging for her mercy that did not exist. At least for the likes of him. 

His persona had broken when her jaw unclenched, revealing two sharp canines that sank into his throat like butter. Her knife like nails dug into his cheeks, his neck, securing his squirming worm like body. 

He’d sobbed in chocking groans until she let his body hit the ground in a musical thud. Blood trickled from her face as she looked down at his shocked face, his hands had moved to cover the deep wound on his neck. She gave him a wide, bloody smile. 

With warm blood coursing through her, she felt lively and bubbly. Like the first few sips of champagne. She licked the blood from her fingers, savoring the too quickly to fade warmth. Laughing at the widening of his eyes. She let him scoot himself away, crawling backwards through the alley. “You cried more than I thought. But I guess your kind always does.” She teased, following him slowly until his head hit the the ending of the alley. “You should have seen your face when you realized who the real cat was. But I wouldn’t really compare you to a mouse. I respect mice.” He couldn’t respond to the insult. The world was collapsing in on him again and at first he thought it was her again. But he quickly realized that the blood loss was too much. With the last few breaths of his life, he flailed in a panic at the last vision of her standing over him once more. 

She drank the rest of him without remorse. The crows overhead cawing in celebration. One, her favorite pet came and landed on the ground beside her. 

She patted his little head and stood up, wiping blood from her face. 

“Good hunting, my friend.” Sated she walked away without any more thought to the man who’s real name she didn’t know or care to. Her friend flew onto her shoulder, resting there as she disappeared into the night. 

He remained with the other useless garbage. 

Unseeing eyes watched the sky shift from day to night over and over again, while his ears were deaf to the new screams calling close by and the sound of heels clicking across the pavement. 

 The crows came and watched time and the elements slowly take the rest of him. They picked at him a time or two, sedating their own sense of revenge and hunger until he was nothing but a pile of worn clothing, and bones that scattered with the passing of stray animals and rain that spread his remains far apart.  

She came back. Like she always did. Leading another to this very spot, making the idiot believe it was his doing. Faying the sparkling eyed woman, who stupidly ran into the dark maze of mostly abandoned warehouses to flee from the scary man. 

They always followed. Not because she made them. But because it had been in their twisted nature to do so. Easy pickings. 

In the end, she wasn’t much different from them. They both enjoyed the chase. The hunt. The first slices. The fear in wide eyes. The pumping heart. The paling face. The last breath. 

The tears. The agony. 

The bone tingling anticipation that caused you to collapse onto your knees when the cord finally snapped. 

They both followed.