Filthy Cloaks / H.S.

Chapter Three.

The silence felt so purifying like a blanket of relief, keeping my limbs still but tranquil as I laid motionless on the soft cushions of my couch. My eyelids were closed softly, and I felt the heat and illumination of the sunlight peeking through the opening of my curtains onto my doused eyelids. If I could stay as relaxed as I was right now for the rest of my life, I wouldn't hesitate to take that chance. I would—

*RING*

A rushed gasp escaped my mouth and I pulled my eyes open, all like whiplash. Within a second, my once eased body became immensely tense as I sprung my top half up off my couch to frantically look for my ringing phone.

I glanced at the clock set up above my TV on my wall and realized I was late for lunch with my friend, Teal. "Shit, shit, shit."

I knocked a few objects on my stand over in the process of looking for my phone, being so out of it given I was half-awake at this point. Finally brushing my fingers on the phone, I grabbed it quickly and pressed answer, missing the button a few times prior. "Hey, hello!"

"Where are you?" Teal questioned me, and I could already assume she was already outside my apartment, waiting for me. "I tried texting you like 15 times because I know how you hate calls, but come on."

"Yeah, yeah, um I'm sorry. I had a rough night and it kind of just slipped my mind," I rubbed the palm of my hands on my face in an attempt to wake it up a little more.

"So you just want to cancel?"

"No! no, I'll get dressed and come downstairs. Just give me 10 minutes. I'm sorry," I apologized. If anything, this should be good for me. I needed someone to confide in after the whole life-threatening situation I experienced yesterday.

Damn it, I was really hoping that was some kind of a sick nightmare.

I ended the call and moved quickly off the couch to run to my room where I threw anything presumably nice to wear for the public, gathering all my necessities in my purse and rushing out of my apartment.

Taking a very needed sigh, I reached for the doorknob to my apartment, but after I turned to lock it, I caught a white envelope on my welcome carpet from the corner of my eye.

Silence. Purifying silence, puncturing my eardrums and slowly prickling anxiety through goosebumps in my skin. My heart felt heavy and hard to breathe with as thoughts of what occurred yesterday flooded my brain.

The older man, Alfred. He was probably dead in that abandoned, dark alleyway with both eyes opened in horror, bloody red veins in his eyes being the only color to his cold and lifeless body. And Styles, the brunette who took that glance back and caught me watching his assaults on that poor man. It was only one quick glance, yet I felt as if he knew everything about me, studying the catalogs of some run-down institution that had addresses and birth dates of every living citizen, including me.

Fuck, he probably even knows where I live, waiting for the right and perfect moment to murder the way he probably did with Alfred. God, why'd I have to be so fucking stupid? I put this upon myself when I decided ignorantly to go into a dark abandoned part of New York.

I just stood there, unable to move — Just completely paralyzed. The only access to movement I was capable of was my vibrating pupils, moving from corner to corner on the envelope lying so still yet so destructively. I simply stared at the back of the note, blank and white, petrified at the thought of turning it over and reading what possible sinister words lied there.