Dementophobia || Sanders Sides

4. Fatal Slip Up

Hehehehehe

TW: swearing, threats, mention of rape(only once, nothing detailed), anger, Death, blood, gore, weapons,

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Virgil stated out longer than usual that night. He wanted to see when Roman would stop following him to go wherever he lives, but he never stopped. As long as Virgil was still walking around without going back to his apartment, Roman was still there following behind.

Logically, he knew that giving Roman one more warning most likely wouldn't do anything. In the end, he would likely just have to kill him. It would be riskier than what he usually liked to do, but he couldn't have a stalker hanging around forever. Eventually Roman would see something he shouldn't have, and then Virgil would have to kill him either. It would be riskier to leave him alive.

So, when it got dark and the streets cleared out, Virgil slipped into an alley. It was better lit than some he had been in, but the shadows still ate away at the edges, swallowing up any light that fell into the alley. It wasn't a shock when he heard the footsteps following him. Roman was always following him, after all.

This time, though, would be different. Virgil stopped in the middle of the alley, waiting for Roman to catch up to him. He wanted to punch the slightly confused expression off of his face. Or just stab him. He wanted to do that, too.

"You want to try and say you aren't stalking me again?" Virgil crossed his arms, subtly squeezing his arm to keep his self control. Not yet. He couldn't kill him yet.

"So what if I am?" Roman was smiling, despite having been caught. Virgil hates that smile so, so much. "What're you going to do to stop me?"

"We're in an alley with no one around," Virgil deadpanned. "I could do anything and there would be no witnesses."

"Well, you don't seem to be the type to rape people in alleys, so I think I'm fine," Roman stated.

"Well yeah, I've got standards." Virgil scoffed. "And what about yourself? What happens to the people you stalk?"

"Nothing like that," Roman said, but Virgil could tell there was something he wasn't saying. "I've got some human decency."

"You're stalking me, this isn't exactly a good situation to talk about human decency."

"Fair point." Roman shrugged.

"Anyway, none of this was the point of me stopping," Virgil said. "Stop stalking me."

"Not gonna happen," Roman stated. "I said I have some human decency, not that I'm a fucking saint."

"Doesn't take a saint to not stalk someone."

"Well, too bad. Not like you can do anything about it anyway."

"And how are you so sure?" Virgil asked. Frustration was bleeding into his voice, but it voiced only a fraction of what he felt. The urge to grab his knife and just bury it into Roman was overwhelming. "You're the one who followed me into an alley. You put yourself at a serious disadvantage."

Roman opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it as someone else stepped out of the shadows. Of course something else had to go wrong. Just Virgil's luck. Someone else just had to show up.

"I'd hate to interrupt this little meeting you have going on here, but you're both going to come with me quietly," they drawled.

At this point Virgil was just pissed off and annoyed. He paid the person no mind, ignoring the obviously concealed weapons they carried and their shocked expression when he walked past them to get out of the alley.

"Hey! I was talking to you!" Virgil felt the hand grab at his arm, and for a moment he forgot about where he was. He hated being touched. It made his vision go red, the urge to cut he hand off of him overtaking any thoughts of caution. He had a knife out before he even knew what he was doing.

"Were you? I think that was your first mistake." The poorly concealed weapons that Virgil had first noticed were no use to the person now. They couldn't get one of them out quickly enough to stop when he swung, slicing open their throat. There was a pretty splash of red all over the alleyway, and the sounds of choking as they slowly drowned in their own blood.

Virgil could feel the thrill from blood running along the pavement, giving him a sort of high like no other. His frustration from before was gone, replaced by the rush he only felt from watching the blood drain from his victims. It was an empowering feeling, one you could almost get drunk on.

"Holy shit."

781 words.