Twilight Imagines

33. Courting a Creepy Stalker (Felix Volturi)

(Published October 13, 2024) 

   A sudden chilly breeze whipped past me, tossing my hair to the side and raising goosebumps on my neck.  I jumped when I heard a strange thump and grunt following the breeze.  Turning as best I could in my seated position, I scanned the graveyard behind me and saw nothing.  An involuntary shiver ran through me at the stillness that now seemed eerie.  Maybe the graveyard wasn't such a great place to be at two a.m. after all.  I scanned the dark grounds again before turning back to my mother's headstone.  

   The flowers I had brought the night before were already in a sorry state of wilting.  I wouldn't have brought them at all, if it hadn't been her birthday.  Long ago, I had taken to bringing unique or pretty rocks to set at the stone instead.  My usual gift didn't seem fitting for such a day, though, so I had picked some wild flowers instead.  Stupid me.  

   Sighing, I ran a hand over my face.  My cheeks were dry tonight, unlike the night before.  I knew my eyes had to look horrible from the lack of sleep, though.  I really ought to go home and try to sleep.  I just couldn't seem to bring myself to.  Anytime I tried, I'd just lay there and my brain would run wild with thoughts, which was always dangerous.  I didn't like thinking too much.  

   The strange breeze returned, softer this time, and pulled my thoughts in a different direction.  For some reason, the graveyard was extra creepy tonight.  I glanced around again and froze as I saw a dark figure walking slowly through the headstones towards me.  Nobody else was ever in the graveyard in the wee hours, so I didn't know what to do.  Did I stay and not move, or should I run?  I chose to stay, since I doubted I could outrun anyone at this point.  I'd been sitting too long and my limbs were likely stiff.  

   The figure slowed to a stop as he approached me.  I knew it was a he from his build, even though he was concealed beneath a dark hoodie and black sweatpants.  I pretended not to notice him, focusing instead on the chip at the base of my mom's headstone where a landscaper had gotten too close with a tool of destruction.  He stayed still, standing there like a statue, until I finally looked over at him.  

   "It's rather dangerous, sitting in the dark all alone, don't you think?" 

   His deep voice seemed to flow with the night air in a surprisingly soothing manner.  I squinted a little at him, wishing I could get a better view so I at least knew who he was before he killed me or whatever he was planning.  

   "I've never had any problems before," I replied lamely.  

   "That's because I've taken care of them for you." 

   My eyebrows dropped at his comment.  "What do you mean by that?" 

   "Do you not realize how many twisted humans prowl the cemeteries at night in this city?" He let out a deep chuckle.  

   "Uh, none from what I've seen.  Just you and me."  And he was definitely creepy, if not twisted.  

   The movement of his hood hinted that he was shaking his head at me.  "Ms. Rossi, you do amuse me." 

   He knew my name.  Great.  "So, do you always hang around in cemeteries and eavesdrop on private conversations, then?" 

   "It's not much of a conversation when the recipient is dead." 

   "It's cheaper than therapy.  And that's not an answer." 

   "Typically, no.  But your conversations are interesting, so it's become a hobby, I guess." 

   I stood and brushed off my pants before turning to him.  He pretty much towered over me.  A dark, shadowy figure that should terrify me.  And maybe he would've, if he hadn't had such a charming voice and vocabulary.