𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 ✓ | 18+

Chapter Twenty

Ghostface

March 8th

I watched Isabella's apartment from the shadows, a sly grin creeping across my face. She had no idea that I was there, hidden from view, my eyes trained on her every move. As she left for her classes, I felt a surge of satisfaction.

I hated that I felt this need for her, this craving that she somehow had over me. It wasn't desire; it was something else, something I couldn't fucking explain. She had this power over me, and I hated it, I hated her for making me feel things that I shouldn't, for making me feel remorse for my actions. I was a monster, nothing more, nothing less.

I made my way into her apartment. My movements were precise, calculated. I had been studying Isabella and her friend Emily for weeks, learning their schedules, their habits, their routines. I knew they'd both be out for a few hours, presenting the perfect opportunity for me to make my move.

Breaking into Isabella's apartment was easy, almost too fucking easy. I moved with practiced efficiency, installing cameras in Isabella's living room. I had strategically placed it high on a shelf, overlooking the entire room. The angle was perfect, capturing every corner without being too conspicuous. I didn't even consider placing a camera in her friend's room. Emily wasn't my type, and I had no interest in her.

Next, I moved to the kitchen. I had hidden this camera among some pots and pans on a shelf, camouflaging it perfectly. It provided a clear view of the kitchen, including the entrance and the main area where Isabella spent most of her time.

Finally, I put a camera in Isabella's room. This one was a bit trickier to install, but I had managed to hide it behind a picture frame on the wall, giving me a direct view of her bed and the rest of the room. I adjusted the angle slightly to ensure I captured everything I needed.

Satisfied that the cameras were in place and functioning perfectly, I slipped out of her apartment and headed back to my own.

. . .

As I approached the entrance of my apartment building, the familiar sight of the lobby greeted me. The walls were a dull beige, the floor tiled in a simple pattern. The door swung open effortlessly as I pushed it, the hinges silent. Stepping inside, I inhaled the scent of old wood and faint cleaning chemicals.

To my left, the mailboxes were neatly arranged, each slot labeled with a resident's name. I glanced at them briefly, noting the familiar names and wondering if anyone had received anything interesting today. Continuing forward, I walked past the concierge desk, where the security guard nodded at me in acknowledgment.

The hallway stretched ahead, lined with doors on either side, leading to the various apartments in the building. The carpet underfoot was a dark, nondescript color, worn in places from years of use. I walked with purpose, my footsteps echoing softly in the quiet hallway.

Finally, I reached the elevator at the end of the hallway. I pressed the button, and the doors slid open smoothly, revealing the empty interior. Stepping inside, I pressed the button for my floor, and the doors closed with a soft chime.

The elevator ascended smoothly, and as the doors opened on my floor, I stepped out into the familiar hallway. My apartment door was just a few steps away, and I quickly made my way towards it. Fishing my keys out of my pocket, I unlocked the door and stepped inside, feeling a sense of satisfaction at being home.

I wasted no time and strode over to the small, dimly lit room where my surveillance monitors were set up. The room was Spartan, with just a desk, a chair, and the monitors lining the wall. The faint hum of the electronics filled the air as I took off my black glossy coat, revealing a dark, form-fitting shirt underneath. I hung the coat on a nearby hook and settled into the chair in front of the monitors.

With a flick of a switch, the monitors sprang to life, displaying the feeds from the cameras in Isabella's apartment. Each screen showed a different angle, capturing every corner of her living space. I adjusted the focus and zoom on each camera, ensuring I had a clear view of every detail. My eyes were glued to the screens as I observed her every move. I watched intently as she answered her phone, her expression changing as she listened to the caller. I couldn't hear the conversation; the sound was muffled, but I could see the emotions playing out on her face.

Isabella's features shifted from confusion to shock, her eyes widening in disbelief. She froze, the towel wrapped around her suddenly forgotten as she listened to the voice on the other end of the line. Her hand trembled slightly, and I could almost feel the tension radiating off her.

I leaned in closer to the screen, trying to decipher her reaction, trying to understand what could be causing such a strong response. Was it fear? Anger? Sadness? I couldn't quite tell, but whatever it was, it was clearly shaking her to the core.

I wondered who it was. Was it someone important to her?

As the conversation continued, I saw Isabella's expression harden, a mask of determination settling over her features. She nodded once, twice, her jaw set in a firm line. She said something, her voice barely audible through the muffled sound, but her body language spoke volumes.

Suddenly, she ended the call, her hand shaking slightly as she set the phone down. She stood there for a moment, her back straight, her gaze focused. Then, with a determined look, she headed towards her room, her movements purposeful and decisive.

I watched her closely, my curiosity piqued. What could have caused such a reaction in her? Who was on the other end of that call? The questions swirled around in my mind, but I knew I wouldn't find the answers just by watching her. I needed to get closer, to find a way to get inside her head, to break her further.

With a smirk, I sank back into my chair, my mind already spinning with schemes and plans.

Despite the way Isabella may have affected me, I knew deep down that I was a monster. Her presence may have stirred something unfamiliar in me, but it changed nothing about who I was at my core. I was driven by my own dark desires.

I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on the screens displaying Isabella's every move. She may have thought she had softened me, that she had found a way to reach the humanity buried deep within me. But she was mistaken. I was a fucking monster, and I would always be.

No one could change what I was, not even her. And I would make sure she knew that. And the perfect way to do that was to go after her friend. Her friend's laughter, her teasing, it was all a part of Isabella's world, and I wanted to tear it apart. Emily would be my next target, my next victim. She had no idea what was coming for her.