The Man In The Woods (Virgin Killer #1)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I rushed out of the diner as fast as my legs would allow. It seemed like the whole world was shaking. My mind had shifted into overdrive when I saw the Damon's number on the napkin.

Why couldn't he had just given me a business card or something? I thought. What was the point for him to go through all that trouble just to give me his private number? I mean, it just doesn't make any sense!

Unless...he likes me.

"Who likes you?"

Startled, I practically jumped out of my skin at the sudden remark. I swiveled around on my heel to face Christian, who sat on the curb of the sidewalk near the diner. He rose from the ground and walked over to me. He must have detected something in my expression, for he asked next; "What happened in there, Sky?"

I hadn't a clue what to say. I didn't even realize that I had spoken my thoughts. How much had Christian heard?

I couldn't tell him. I just couldn't.

Before, it was like Christian was my go-to man for anything and everything. But for the past six months, I feel like I can't tell him certain things. Like the nightmare I had told him about this morning. There was so much more to that than I had let on.

My hands trembled as Christian stared at me, awaiting my answer. "What's the matter, Skyler?" he asked, grasping my hands.

I pulled away from him. "I have to go, Christian," I said quickly. Before he could reply, I walked right past him to head home. "Skyler," he called after me. Once again, I turned around to face him. "You do realize you can tell me anything, right?"

"Yeah," I lied. "I'll call you later, okay?" I asked, hoping he would no longer pry for information. Christian reluctantly nodded. "Okay," he said as he turned around and walked away in the other direction. I did the same.

When I walked into my house, I felt so uneasy it made me nauseous. It seemed as if someone was in the house, watching my every move. If it was him, I wouldn't know what to do. I walked around the house, checking the living room, the kitchen, the downstairs bathroom, Momma's lounging room/office, and then finally the bathroom and all the bedrooms upstairs. There was no one in sight.

But that didn't make the queer feeling go away.

I jumped at the sound of my phone ringing. Three Days Grace's song "Riot" blared throughout the vicinity. I sat on the middle steps, and didn't bother to glance at the caller ID before pressing the answer button. "Hello?" I said to whoever was on the other end. There wasn't a reply for a few seconds. I said it again, and threatened to hang up if I didn't receive an answer. I then heard heavy breathing, and what followed suit I thought I'd never hear again.

"Hello, Skyler. Do you remember me?"

My stomach dropped, and my breath stilled. A flood of emotions momentarily impaired my senses, but it wasn't long enough until I regained control. It can't be him. It just can't be. "Who is this?" I asked, hoping that my voice would match my stoic expression. A boisterous laugh resounded from the other end, the sound wave tickling my right ear. "Come on, darling," the familiar voice said, you could almost taste the condescension dripping off the end. "You can't sit here and lie to me."

"Technically, I'm not lying," I countered. "I don't know who you are. How do I know that you're the person I'm thinking of?" Hey, if this impostor can do it, then I might as well.

"You know exactly who I am, Skyler Williamson," the voice yelled out in rage. It chilled me to the bone. My mouth was now pressed into a thin line, for I now knew that this was no prankster.

It was him.

An involuntary whimper escaped my lips as I clutched onto my phone. I could feel my left hand ball up into a fist. "W-what do you w-want fr-from me?" I stuttered out.

"Now what kind of question is that?!" he screamed. I bit down on my lip as I felt tears run down my cheeks. I removed the phone from my ear and set it beside me on the step. I took a few deep breaths before I picked up the phone. I heard him say something as I did, but it sounded garbled. "What did you say?" I asked, pressing the phone to my ear.

"After six months, you seriously don't know what I want?" I then heard a shuffling sound in the background. "What was that?" I asked as I stood up and walked down the steps. There was yet another moment of silence before he answered. By this time, I was heading to the front door. "You want the God's honest truth, right?" he responded, cockiness overtaking his tone. An ear-splitting scream echoed in the background. I stopped dead in my tracks. My own screams followed suit as I realized what had just happened.

"Oh God, please stop!" A girl pleaded on the other end. She screamed again. "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" she yelled in pain. I froze. I heard her crying over the phone. "Why are you doing this to me?" she shouted. "Because you're not her," the husky voice seethed. Then the call cut out.

I remember collapsing to the floor. I hugged my knees and let my phone slip out of my hand and onto the floor. I couldn't stop crying. I buried my face into my legs, my whole body was shaking.

What did I just do?

***

It was a horrifying sight to see. Blood saturated the vicinity. In the middle of the bed was a sixteen-year-old girl, sprawled out on the stark white mattress. She'd been stabbed and slashed at numerous times. He had lost count. He was too pissed off to recall.

The bayonet he had for as long as he could remember was now stuck in the girl's heart. Poetic, isn't it? The heart of the girl he wants is out of reach, so he breaks other girls' hearts until he finds the one he's been looking for.

Christina had put up a courageous fight after the phone call with Skyler. That whole oh-please-don't-kill-me-I'll-do-anything spiel was a tough act to pull. But he liked his girls that had a little feistiness in them. This one had caught him off guard.

He rose from the black leather chair that sat in the corner nearest the door of the second bedroom and waltzed into the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, he took a handful of ice-cold water and splashed it on his face and the back of his neck. He felt tears run down his face as he reminisced about what he had just done. "I don't want to do this anymore," he cried out.

"Well, you're gonna fucking do it," the voice commanded. The man looked straight at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. Grinding his teeth, he said, "You can't make me! I'm stronger than you are. I can make the choices now."

The man in the mirror let out a hearty laugh. "Can you bring that bitch in my room back to life? I think not! You see, my friend, you have no control over what I do. When I take over, you go bye-bye. So suck it the fuck up, because I run the show now. And there's nothing you can do about it."

Nostrils flaring, blood boiling, heart racing, the man clenched his dominant hand into a fist and collided it with the silver menace in front of him. Shards had scattered all over the place, most in the sink and some on the floor. But the man didn't give a damn. He knew he had to stop the man in the mirror.

But how?

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~S.M.