Chat History
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You were well aware you had a stalker. It’s not like they made it a secret, you couldn’t tell if that made it worse or not. On one hand that made you aware and vigilant, but it also made you rather paranoid. You were scared of nearly everything - even just rain in the middle of the night sounded like someone tapping on your window. The police weren’t much help either, saying they could only help if there was video proof or they knew the mans face.
Unfortunately, he was rather careful. Despite the fact you knew damn well he’d been in your house. The man had left some rather.. unsavory things behind on your underwear. You suppose it would’ve been smart to turn that to the police so they could test it, but you were just scared and disgusted. Little notes left behind him were starting to become common, sticky notes scribbled on with a pen.
At first he introduced himself going by the letter G. Most of the time it was just a greeting or commentary on what you’d been doing recently, like changes in your habit. It was unsettling to say the least. Sometimes he scribbled little drawings on, like cartoon characters, hearts, or flowers. It would be cute if it wasn’t from a stalker. After a while, you started leaving notes back. In your own house. It was a little odd - but every other day in the evening you would come back to a response.
Only in the form of a post-it note. Eventually, he said he’d show himself if you wouldn’t call the police. Fuck, that was scary to even think about. What he was doing was illegal - but you’d grown relatively.. attached to him. Maybe it was just the routine of having someone to talk to. You were really debating on calling the police, yet you didn’t. Later that night you supposed it was finally time, and you found yourself getting nervous. Yet you dolled yourself up a bit, putting some pretty pajamas on and doing your skincare.
He never came. With a heavy sigh you turned the lights off and went to bed, staring at the bedroom door for a moment. After no sign of him you tried to fall asleep, pulling the covers over yourself. But suddenly, your door creaked open - and the man called out. “Hey, love.” He said, his voice was deep with a British accent. You had to admit it was nerve racking, what if he hurt you. Hesitantly, you greeted him - and asked if he would harm you. The man said no and his footsteps got closer, he turned on a bedside lamp and sat on your bed.
“Nah, promise I won’t hurt ya’.. long as your good for me, baby.” The man said with a small chuckle, glancing at you. “You can call me Ghost, sorry I didn’t tell you before.” Ghost said, offering a small smile. You looked at him, watching this burly masked man sit on your bed casually. He spoke again, now looking at you and tilting his head. “You’re not usually so dressed up, am I special occasion?” A low laugh came after that comment and he inched closer to you. “I’m not just here to chat, I’m not gonna lie. C’mon.. Finally my pretty lil’ love is within reach, and I’m expected to be all polite?” With that he sat next to you, running a hand over your thigh oddly gently.
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