Guiltless insanity

Chapter 9: A stalker..?

Third person POV

Reluctantly, she woke up, feeling exhausted that morning. It was a terrible feeling, she felt dirty. She was all bloody from when Brahms held her and felt her face. It had dried up and was all sticky. She could smell that melancholy, putrid iron scent of blood. she hated it. She felt stained. Speaking of Brahms, he wasn't in bed with her when she woke up, neither was Billy. She supposed they had left her to her own devices for now to let her cool off, as unrealistic as that sounds coming from them. So, to get rid of that god-awful scent, she immediately went to the bathroom to shower.

Hastily, she undressed, stepping into the shower, feeling the dry, sticky blood caking her cheeks and her waist. Sighing, she turned the water on, letting it flow over her skin, grabbing her lavender scented shampoo, rubbing it into her scalp. She was going to be nice to herself today. She wasn't going to scrub it harshly into her scalp as usual, to get it don't quickly. She was going to take her time today.

She needed time to get her thoughts together...to catch a break for just a moment.

She rinsed it out slowly, watching as the bubbles flowed over her (s/c) skin, now applying conditioner to the longer parts of her hair, not bothering if it got on her scalp a bit or not. She was just taking her time. Thinking about everything that has been happening. She was so blissfully unaware of the pair of dark eyes watching her. She rinsed out the conditioner, and washed her body with rose scented shampoo.

Now, as she stepped out, she dried her hair carefully with a towel, and wrapped a larger towel around her to cover her body. As she went to the mirror to check how she looked, she noticed a note on the foggy mirror...what it said made her blood run cold.

It wrote, 'You're the one he killed for.'

Just that simple sentence written on the note made her freeze. She could feel burning shivers running through her body, she was terrified. For good reason, because the only two people she knew who would do this were Brahms and Billy...but the fact that the sentence was almost as if the person was just now recognising her...it sent chills down her spine because she knew that it couldn't possibly, in any way shape or form, be Brahms or Billy. Because they knew her and they both knew Brahms killed for her. But somehow, someone else knew and they figured out where she resided...

She had a stalker.

The pure, sheer discomfort she felt at this thought was insane. She already had to deal with Brahms and Billy all the time, those two already made her an emotional mess. The poor girl could hardly handle anymore of this and she had truly no idea what was to come.

She slowly took a deep breath, shakily, calming herself as much as she physically could before taking the note and deciding to put it in the bin. However, this small action seemed to...infuriate her stalker. In her stalker's eyes, she should've been grateful he even showed an interest in her. Unknowingly, she was putting herself in more and more danger with every miniscule action she completed.

With haste, she got dressed into an oversized beige shirt of her choosing and some black wide leg cargos. She wanted to feel covered today, comforted. And with that, she went downstairs and began cooking breakfast. It consisted of three omelettes - one for her, one for Brahms and one for Billy - and a salad with bread on the side for the omelettes. She plated them separately, on three plates, ate her plate and just sighed, deciding she wouldn't tell Brahms and Billy about the note.

She now needed to find Brahms so he could eat. Knowing he'd be in the walls, she felt along the outlines of them, looking for anything that could somewhat look like a hole in the walls, or an entrance. Feeling along the line, she finally came to an entrance, it was right below a painting, as she inspected it, her jaw practically dropped. The painting was a Monet, it was so incredibly expensive, to think they afforded this was insane in her eyes, yet she forgot Brahms came from a rich family and inherited the wealth.