How Does it Feel Like? | Weyler

Thirteen

All night Stalker lay awake in bed, motionless and afraid of what was to come for him. He would reach out to the police, but if he had, there was a possibility of legal trouble concerning his practice. Stalker was indeed doing just that, stalking. He had technically crossed onto Nevermore grounds illegally multiple times, and he was sure proof of that would resurface as soon as he got the numbers ‘911’ typed in.

Stalker had been worried all night that something was going to happen to him. He felt similar to a character in a horror movie, more scared by the anticipation than the actual idea of being hurt. He had tried calling Winn multiple times afterward but was met with an error every single time. He was crushed. Both were fully aware of the danger they were putting themselves into while agreeing on this case, but that didn’t mean they expected it so soon. Why Winn? She wasn’t the one stalking anyone, just documenting the information Stalker relayed to her.

Who killed her?

Stalker now had two cases to solve. Wednesday and Tyler’s, and now this. Winn meant the world to him, he had wanted to make more for them, to possibly start something with her, but now he may never get the chance.

After all of the initial shocks wore off, he was angry. Physically, and emotionally, he was angry. Terribly. He had punched not one, but two holes in his walls, and that was just the beginning. When he realized he hadn’t been killed that night, he immediately called someone else, his tone harsh, and unwavering, “You son of a bitch, did you kill her?!” His voice hollered through his room. A voice quietly replied on the other end, their innocent seeming tone suddenly annoying him further, “What? Who are you talking about?” Stalker stood up, his hand clutching his phone so tightly he thought he may snap it. “Winn! If you killed her, I will fucking kill you!” He was never one for violence, but he had a suspicion, and if it were true, he would throw away his morals for the sake of temporary satisfaction. “This wasn’t the deal!” He then screamed, the voice on the other end silent for a minute or two before speaking, “Meet me at my home in 20.”

The line went dead.

~~

Wednesday stared at the hoodie for a long while, her hands running along the black fabric. Just out of pure curiosity for what it felt like on the inside, she decided to try it on. It wasn’t like she wanted to actually wear the hoodie or anything, that would be silly! She just wanted to see if it was even worth it. Upon putting it on, she was immediately hit with the scent of Tyler, and if she shut her eyes, she could imagine him being right there beside her. It was a comfortable article of clothing, So Wednesday decided just to wear it for a little while, then she would take it off. He was expected to be there a couple of hours later, around 10 am, so she would undoubtedly be out of the room long before then anyway, and she would just put the hoodie back on the bed like how she found it.

Heading back to the typewriter, she pulled the sweater up on her arms as it was too long, trying to clear her mind so she could write again. It could have been because of how incredibly early in the morning it was, but she was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion. Her schedule had either been staying up too late or sleeping in, which was messing with her a bit.

The words she had just typed out on the typewriter began to blur together, and Wednesday could feel her eyes starting to shut. Before she knew it, her head hit the desk, and she fell asleep there.

“Wednesday? …Wednesday?”

Her eyes fluttered open, bringing her head up from the desk as she lightly rubbed at her temples, feeling a growing headache sprouting. “What?” She asked in a dazed manner, letting her eyes adjust to the bright lights coming from the windows.