Stalker

Kristopher struggled to hang onto his cup as his body trembled in fear. The black liquid in the mug splashed and sloshed over the rim onto his pale hands but the burning sensation eluded him. There were more pressing matters on his mind. He had seen her again just like the last four nights. She crept around the corners of his small apartment. Her movements falling only upon the ears of the dead. He could feel her bright bulging eyes peering at him from the darkness as her jaw hung agape with hunger. She craved his taste as she left trails of grey hued drool across his floors. The cracks and snaps of her bones filled his mind as she stalked him on all fours. Thankfully, this little game of hers only occurred once the day had gone and the night took its place. He kept his knees pressed together and his arms tucked into his sides as he sat at the kitchen table. He positioned himself so that the only thing that would be behind him was the fridge. He could see the rest of the kitchen from this angle and most of the living room adjacent to him. If she was here tonight, he would spot her and know that it wasn't just his mind decaying under the stress. He raised the cup to his lips. Effectively spilling most of the contents onto the table before he sipped the hot liquid. He had to stay awake. He had to keep himself from drifting to sleep or else she would follow him. He took another messy sip. This time spilling the beverage onto his already sweat soaked shirt. Still, the burning pain did not phase Kristopher. He just kept gazing passed the white linoleum floor into the carpeted living room. His mind went wild. Like a child imagining monsters within the shadows of the night, he swore he saw something move just behind the far armrest of the couch. He stared in that direction for a few moments until his eyes shot around to the rest of his surroundings in fear that she was elsewhere. He saw nothing but he felt her presence. Her massive eyes, that nearly popped from her skull, peering at him from a darker place. He took another sip of the coffee and kept watching.

Four days ago, Kristopher had come home in a foul mood. Work had not gone the way he would've wanted it and more stress was placed upon his head. He closed the door behind him and dropped his bag to the floor before kicking off his shoes. He then tore his coat away and hung it on the hook by the door. Now, in the comfort of his own box, he let out a hefty groan and ran his fingers through his short, blondish brown hair. He scratched at his cranium as his fingers went along in an attempt to release the burden from his skull. It helped slightly but it wasn't enough to cool the fire. He had wished he heard the sound of the T.V. playing or the gentle sound of pages rubbing together as they turned. These noises would've meant that his girlfriend was home. Her presence alone would be more than enough to calm him. To hear her voice would effectively quench the fire. However, he remembered quickly that she was away visiting family out of town and that she wouldn't be back for the rest of the week. With that realization, Kristopher sighed and went to the kitchen to make himself something to eat. His apartment was a bit messier now since his girlfriend was absent. The sink was beginning to pile up with dishes and he was getting behind on his weekly laundry. Dirty clothes seemed to creep from his bedroom just off the living room. He opened the fridge and bent down to see the contents he could scrounge into a meal. There wasn't much. Just a couple jars of condiments, some overly processed lunchmeat, and a bag of cheese curds that was already three-quarters gone even though he bought the bag yesterday. No matter. What was left was enough for him. He grabbed the meat, curds, and barbecue sauce and made a note to go grocery shopping tomorrow after work. He then began preparing a meal that would be fit for a college frat house king. He laid the strips of meat out on the last clean plate and rolled a cheese curd up in each one. He popped the plate full of six cheese rolls into the microwave and set the timer to forty seconds.

CRACK. SNAP. CLICK.

Kristopher only stared through the window of the microwave at his soon to be meal.

CLICK. CRUNCH. POP.

He suddenly spun around as he realized the noise was not coming from the heating meal but from behind him. His eyes were wide and his heart raced as the adrenaline pumped through his body. He saw nothing. Just the slightly messy apartment still as it was. The noise didn't come again but a needle of paranoia set in the back of his head. He stared for a moment longer until the high-pitched beeping of the appliance, signaling that his meal was ready, startled him as well. He took a breath to settle his nerves and shook his head with a slight smile, "I'm finally losing it." He fetched his dinner and plopped down on the couch to watch some T.V. then, when he grew tired, he turned in for the night. The moments just before he drifted to sleep was what he dreaded the most. There was no one there to be with him, no one to stare into their eyes before they kissed good night.

Kristopher's alarm woke him with it's horrible jingle of bells. He threw the blankets off him and rose to get ready for work. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a grey hoodie with the word air force written on the chest that his father used to wear. He then did his routine in the bathroom like everyone did before heading to their place of employment. However, he didn't take the time to make breakfast since there wasn't anything to constitute as a meal now. Plus, he was running a tad late and decided to pick something up at a gas station on his way. He picked up his bag and reached for the door handle but he stopped short. A chill ran up his spine as an eerie sensation came to him. His body felt strange and the back of his head felt hot. It resembled a feeling he got when someone was staring at him without his knowledge. A sense he was accustomed to when he visited a bar late at night and some girl was taking a liking to him. Kristopher turned his head back to his apartment. He didn't know why he did since he knew he was the only one here. He saw nothing behind him and the rest of his home remained empty. So, he left and continued on with his day.

Several hours passed until the noise of a lock being turned came from the other side of the door. Kristopher was home again. He closed the door behind him and again dropped the bag from his shoulder. The plummeting pack made a heavy thud as it collided against the wood floored entry way. The young man was in the same mood as before. Stressed, irritated, miserable. Again, he wished he heard the soft footsteps of his companion making her way to greet him but the sound and her voice never came. He reached his arms up for a quick stretch. Hopefully the stress would fall from his spine. Then, he made a straight path to the kitchen. He swung the refrigerator door open and peered inside. "Shoot," he had forgotten to make a stop at the grocery store. The same bottles of condiments gazed back at him and wished for some friends in this cold ice box. Kristopher shut the fridge and stood up to open the upper freezer compartment in hopes that there was something in there.

CRACK.

Kristopher spun on his heels. He stared passed the archway to the kitchen and into the living room. The awful noise made his ears ring. It sounded like a tree's trunk had snapped clean in half. Just like yesterday, his eyes saw nothing. However, the chill in his spine had come back. He blinked rapidly. Maybe, his sudden imagination was playing tricks on him or he did in fact see the gleam of two massive eyes gazing back at him from around the corner of the archway. He stared for a few moments more until he rationalized himself back down to earth. However, even though he was settled, he didn't turn his back to the other room again. He only took quick glances at the freezer next to him. In the quick flashes he saw a frosty bag of chicken tenders. He grabbed them, half-hazardly poured them onto the same plate he had used last night, and shoved them into the microwave. The loud beeping commenced soon after and he ate his dinner. After he had finished, he went to watch the television like before but this time he couldn't focus on the screen. His eyes kept drifting to his surroundings. He didn't do this on purpose, of course. Eventually he would catch himself staring into a dark corner or just beyond his bedroom door and resume his blank observance of the constantly changing screen. Soon, his eyelids grew heavy and he retired to his bedroom to get some rest before the next day. However, as he laid his head on the pillow and pulled the blankets up to his cheek, he could still feel a stranger's gaze upon him.

The annoying jingle of his phone didn't ring. Kristopher had forgotten to plug in its charger but he still woke up all the same.

CRRRRK

there was another, more dreadful, sound in his room. Kristopher had been up for the past half hour sitting against the headboard of his bed. His eyes wide and his legs tucked tight against his body.

SCRRKK

his heart pounded in his chest and the anxiety rushed through his head. His eyes shot around the room and focused in the direction where the noise came from. It changed every time it came. Like someone was moving around the bed. Not someone, something.

CRUNCH

This one was far more sudden and much louder. The young man flinched and awaited what was to come. However, he was still left alone in his bed all curled up and trembling with terror. Silence fell around him. The only thing he could hear was the blood pumping through his head and the stuttery breaths he pulled in and blew out. It was watching him. He could feel the eyes upon him again and they stared straight into his. They were unshifting and filled with hunger. A hot wind washed over his face. A sudden breath that wreaked of decayed flesh and blood. Kristopher shot up from the bed and bolted to the door. He had to get out of here.

SNAP. CRUNCH. CRACK. CLICK.

it was after him. He let out a shriek as he felt the breath on the backs of his ankles. He grabbed the door handle and yanked it open before fleeing into the hall. He ran for another moment until he realized that the noises had ceased and that he was out in the open in just a pair of boxers. He turned back and gazed down the hallway towards the open door. There it was. The massive eyes that stared at him from the darkness. The thin, blue iris's surrounding the pinhole pupils that gazed into his. Her mouth was gaping wide into a deep black hole with thick strings of grey drool hanging off her rotting tongue. Her skin was pale and her stringy damp hair hung in front of her face. She was gone. Skittering back to whatever dark place she had made her home in the apartment.

How could he tell them? They'd think he was crazy. They might even ridicule him for his wild claims. He couldn't go back, at least, not alone after what he had seen. It was late until Kristopher came back to his apartment. After barrowing some clothes from his father, he went out for the day with his closest friends. They fished for most of the time. Then, when the fish refused to bite and the sun was getting low, they packed up their gear and went to the college hotspot. The line of rich drink helped Kristopher take his mind off of what happened earlier. The company of his fellow inebriated companions made him forget the entire thing. They piled through the door of his apartment and stumbled through the living room to pick a place to collapse. One of them fell face first into the couch and snoring commenced soon after. Another did the same as he crawled into the corner after he had found a nice comfy blanket. However, the third and last friend was still wide awake and spry for the events of the night.

"I'm gonna kick your ass!" Brett exclaimed as he struggled to stay on his own two feet. Kristopher didn't feel like wrestling the scrawny man but he knew he couldn't calm Brett down unless he pinned him. Brett stumbled around and eyed Kristopher. His stare alone was a challenge that Kristopher couldn't refuse. Suddenly the other man lunged and wrapped his arms around Kristopher's waist. It was an attempt to tackle the larger and stronger man to the ground. However, Brett wasn't known for his strength. So, Kristopher simply fell upon the poor twig. Effectively squishing the other beneath his average weight. Brett wheezed and yelled slurs along with a mixture of poorly crafted insults. Kristopher only smiled through the onslaught of drunken babble and stayed firmly on top of his friend. This is how it always went when Brett wished to challenge the much stronger man. Yet, every night they went drinking, he would challenge Kristopher. Eventually, like always, Brett's insults turned to pleading. His air ran out and his body probably began to ache. So, Kristopher rolled off his friend and sat back against the couch. Brett slowly rose onto his hands and knees as he coughed up his dignity but Kristopher knew it wasn't over. After Brett had caught his breath, he would lunge again and fail again. Brett groaned as he sat back on his calves facing Kristopher. He mumbled more insults while he gathered what little strength he had. Kristopher watched and prepared himself for the other to make the first move. While he did, he saw something. His eyes shifted to the right of Brett's head and he squinted to see through the fog of inebriation that clouded his vision. She was right there. Staring back at him just through the messy strands of Brett's hair. How could he not feel her!? How could he not notice her boiling breaths on the back of his neck or smell the stench from her mouth!? She was right there!

Brett had lunged once again. He pushed Kristopher to the floor and moved on top of him. Kristopher stared to where she was but she no longer remained. "How's it feel, fucker!" Brett exclaimed with triumph in his voice while Kristopher was not concerned with the victory at this point. Needless to say, he didn't sleep alone that night, he didn't sleep at all.

Brett, Will, and Sam stayed for a few hours in the morning until their hangovers had faded. Then they all went back to their own places to catch up on the sleep they had missed. None of them caught on to Kristopher's distress. They failed to notice his tense demeanor and tired eyes. Now, he was alone with it once more. His hands nearly dropped the cup of coffee as he took another sip. The rest of the liquid had spilled out as he set it back on the table. His eyes darted around at each noise he could hear. He was going crazy. It had to have just been his own mind breaking under the stress. He wished his girlfriend was here. Maybe her presence would make this all go away. He glanced up at the clock hanging above the archway to the living room. 10:30. She was supposed to be back today. Hopefully before he heard that awful noise of the creature's bones cracking under its own weight, he would hear the front door click open.

CRUNCH.

No.

CRACK.

God no!

His eyes shot around the room. It was here!

SNAP.

where is it!

His legs shook like an earthquake was occurring and his heart thumped like a hammer bashing into his ribcage. Suddenly, he felt the breath. That hot breath that brought the stench of flesh with it. He felt it on his stomach. He was frozen. His mind turned numb at the realization of where it was. Perhaps, where it had been the entire time. He leaned back against the chair. A part of him hoped that he was just imagining it. He prayed that he was just going insane. There she was. Tucked beneath the table waiting to meet the gaze of it's next meal.