Predator and Prey

Prologue

{Alex}

I'M NOT SURE which thing dragged me away from the comforting weight of sleep--the pain or the fear. Or maybe it wasn't either--maybe it was just the knowing. The knowing that I had been wrong, that it'd hadn't just been a nightmare.

The knowing that I couldn't just wake up this time.

Honestly, it was probably some of all of them. But that night, I chose to focus on the pain, simply because that was the easiest.

I crawled out of bed, biting my lip to hold back the gasp of pain, and slowly convinced my muscles to relax before checking the time on my phone.

"2:38. Shit," I muttered, knowing I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep any time soon. The briefest flash of an image--gray stone, glowing red from the neon sign--flickered across my mind before I could shut it down. A shaky breath escaped as I thought of the pain I'd be in when I stood, but I did anyway.

"Shit," I repeated, feeling my eyes tear up as fiery pain shot through my body. I put a hand on my bedpost, just in case my legs gave out, but after a moment, I stood on my own again. I started moving forward, careful to test the ground before stepping. It'd be just like me to trip on something in the dark and make everyone come running.

I got lucky and made it to my dresser without any casualties, then opened the top drawer and started rifling through my shirts, going by feel rather than sight. I didn't want to risk turning on the light. I pulled a shirt out, trailing my fingers across the surface and swearing when I realized it was short-sleeved. I put it back in, feeling around for another option. My fingers grazed across the cool, beaded surface of my favorite tank top, and I thought I might throw up.

"Where's the money, little girl?" asked a foreign voice. I shuddered as I felt my skin crawl under his hot breath on my neck.

I did my best to ignore him, walking past the alley and fighting the urge to run as far and fast as I could.

"Listen when I talk to you, Mali," the stranger said, voice thick with an accent as he grabbed my wrist.

"My name is Alex, I don't have any money, and you'd better back off before I scream. Cops patrol this area, you know."

I couldn't breathe.

If the air was cool, the stone was fucking freezing. Still, I didn't move away--I could hear my frantic heartbeat pounding in my chest, in my head. I knew that could be gone in an instant.

Holy shit, I really couldn't breathe.

Some part of me wondered if I'd feel it. The last heartbeat--would I know? Would it hurt to leave this world behind?

I yanked my hand away from the shirt like it had burned me, grabbing any random t-shirt and a crumpled hoodie off the floor before bolting towards the bathroom. Even once I was inside with the door locked and the candle lit (turning on the light might have woken someone up, not that it'd really matter--I needed to take a shower, which would make noise), it took me fifteen minutes to steady my breathing. I knew it was stupid to be afraid to go into my own room, but there was something comforting about being alone with the door locked. In here, it didn't matter what I did. In here, no one would touch me. In here, I was in charge.

A few moments later, I was re-lighting the candle, a different set of clothes folded next to the sink beside me. I had a long-sleeved shirt and some yoga pants, as well as clean underwear to change into. I had gotten rid of the hoodie--I needed to wear something clean, something untainted.