Uncanny (John Doe x Reader)

II

What do you do? What can you do? This man was clearly following you. You couldn't even chalk it up to him coincidently needing to use the same bus to head to wherever he needed to be. He was clearly following you. The crazed look in his eyes as he stared at you once again screamed it. You weren't even facing towards him; refusing to acknowledge his presence in hopes that he would get the hint and direct his attention somewhere else, so long as you didn't give him the satisfaction of you noticing him.

He was staring at you through the reflection of the dark glass. At least it felt that way. As if he knew what you were trying to do. He wanted you to know he knew. He didn't need you to look back, because you already were. Did he notice that you tensed your shoulders at the sight of him? That the rise and fall of your chest stopped momentarily? Or how the hairs on your arms began to rise as your body prepared to enter a state of survival?

They say that predators can smell the fear of their prey.

And he loved loved loved the way you smelled right now.

You didn't need to make eye contact. You didn't need to acknowledge him. Your body did it for you. Subtle, almost invisible changes in you, were speaking volumes for Doe. The way the pupils of your eyes would rapidly shift from him to the darkness outside. The way your grip on your phone became just a bit tighter. The way you slightly began to curl into yourself and press against the window you were seated against, all in a pathetic attempt to distance yourself from him.

He saw it all. He loved it all. He had told you not even 5 minutes earlier.

You're cute when you're scared.

In your state of panic, your mind had gone blank. All you could really process was that this stranger was stalking you. He had his eye on you. For whatever reason, you caught his interest, and you begged that he would lose it soon. Your mind was in such a rush to grasp on to the fact that you were unlucky enough to catch the attention of a potential serial killer, that you didn't realize you gave him a front row seat to see where you lived. You were practically telling him to come for you.

As soon as the bus stopped in front of the small sign, conveniently placed close to your apartment building, you rushed towards your door. To top it off, the bold "1" next to your door that indicated you were on the ground level was icing on the cake for your new friend. Easy access.

He didn't step off of the bus with you, and with the darkness of the night and a lack of street lamps due to poor city maintenance, there was the slim chance that he couldn't quite see where you went. That you were just out of sight to have safety in the possibility that he couldn't see where you lived. You didn't care in this moment. You just wanted to be away from him.

Rushing into your home, you shut the door and lock it. Only once you hear the comforting 'click' from the deadbolt did you let out a heavy sigh. You hadn't realized the short breathes you had been taking until now, your body catching up with your brain.

Taking off your shoes and dropping your vest and keys to the side, you begin to drag your feet towards the living room. As you make your way to the comfort of your couch, you ask yourself if you should head to the kitchen to make a proper meal before getting comfortable.

Ultimately, you decide against it. The fear and adrenaline rush from moments ago made you lose the appetite that you had built back at the gas station. You were sure that any sort of food would make you sick.

Your heart rate still trying to come to a slower pace, you sit down and turn on your television. The light from the screen over time began to tire you and after a few episodes of the show you had been watching, the weight of the day began to take its toll on you. You were tired from it all and ready to head to bed.