His Darkest Obsession

Prologue

"No" she whispered, backing further away into the wall as the tall, hooded figure slowly walked towards her.

The corridor was dark and silent, except for the sound of her quick, scared breaths and the approaching footsteps. He took his time to come closer, almost like a predator toying with his prey.
She couldn't see his face, only a fraction of his lower face was all that was visible to her under his hood in the dimly lit corridor.

She pressed her back against the wall. The man stepped over the dead body lying motionless on the floor, blood oozing out from the small hole on its owner's forehead, his eyes glassy and unseeing.
The man slowly made his way towards her, his gun in his left hand still smoking a little from the recent firing of the bullet that had killed the dead man.

She searched for an escape desperately as the man stepped in front of her. She could make out the shape of a door in the dark and tried to make a run for it.
However, before she could even go a few feet, the man grabbed her by the wrist and twisted it behind her, as he pinned her against the wall, one hand grabbing her wrist tightly while the other rested on the wall over her head, totally trapping her body between the wall and himself.

She felt the breath get knocked out of her lungs as her eyes widened both in shock and fear. She bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. The man's eyes lingered on her lips.

"Please....let me go" she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know what you want but...please, I-" she felt like crying but knew that crying will not improve this terrible situation she has found herself in-it might only worsen it.
"I-I can't die yet".

The man's gaze finally shifted from her trembling lips to her terrified eyes, and he noted the presence of something that suspiciously looked like tears in them. He tilted his head to a side, his eyes never leaving hers. He seemed to be observing her, considering as to what he should do with her.
At least, that's what she thought hence took this opportunity to gain his sympathy -at least try to. She didn't know whether psychopaths were capable of feeling pity for anyone, let alone her.

"I can't die, just can't! Please, I have a child" she said desperately.

At this, the man laughed. To say that she was surprised would be an understatement.
He shook his head.

"You didn't recognise me" came his voice, amused. She felt her head spinning. What was this guy talking about? Did she look like someone who hung out with killers in her free time to know him? He almost sounded hurt. Weirdo.

He took his hood off, finally. He was ridiculously good looking with a pair of stormy grey eyes and dark hair which fell effortlessly into them.

She felt her blood run cold. She did recognise that face. How could she forget that face?

She had to run. She needed to run, but now for reasons totally different from a few minutes ago.

The man grabbed both of her arms and leaned in, their faces inches away from each other, their eyes never leaving the other's.

"Our child, baby, our child" he said silkily, sending shivers down her spine.

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