devil

part one

[author's note... if you haven't already, please read the description to this book. it won't have warnings in any chapters because this entire story will have sensitive and graphic material that consists of physical/mental violence.]

[ also, a huge shoutout to the insanely talented creator of this wonderful book cover that I fell in love with korslay ]

Lauren doesn't have many things she considers to be her favorites, but there is one thing in particular that stands out to her.

Her favorite part of the day is the night.

At night, every corner concludes of dark shadows where a person can just as easily step in as step out. She loves the way the shadows cascade around her, engulfing her in and shielding her from the world. It makes her feel invisible, but invisible by choice.

If anyone were to look in her hidden direction of New York's dark street corner, they most likely wouldn't be able to see the girl dressed in black jeans and a thick wool grey turtleneck sweater.

Either way, most of the streets were vacant at this time of day. She knew people were careful about being out and about alone, but there was always someone who chose to ignore that.

She can feel the humid wet pavement of the apartment building she leaned on against her head, reminding her that she's really alive. Perhaps if a person looked, [really looked] they would faintly be able to see the green eyes that flickered against the night.

She senses the pair of mosquitos begin to fly around her in search for skin to bite down on.

She feels one by her neck, but she doesn't wave it away. She feels the itching sensation begin to pulse on her skin. But still, she doesn't move a muscle.

The reason why is because Lauren's eyes stay frozen on the brown haired girl named Camila, whom she can see so clearly inside the glass window of the coffee shop.

She thinks it's so odd how in a freezing cold winter night, the girl would choose to drink an iced coffee instead of a warm drink.

The pair of strange lips linger on the yellow straw taking a lasting sip of the coffee. The brown haired girl doesn't know she's being watched. She doesn't have a clue. Lauren makes sure of that.

She always makes sure she's careful in not being seen.

Lauren pushes her jet black hair aside and her fingertips barely graze the cigarette packet inside the pocket of her jeans.

She's dying to feel the stick against her lips, but she doesn't want the little glow at the end give her away. And so, she brushes the temptation aside.

Instead, she watches as the brown haired girl resumes to the routine she's now learned to follow.

She moves her iced coffee around, tossing the ice in search for a last remaining sip. Finding none, she simply tosses the cup into the garbage can in a swift move.

Sliding her arms through the heavy black winter coat she often wears when it's colder than usual, she stops by the counter to say goodnight to the baristas.

Lauren can feel her face harden when she sees one of the new male workers behind the counter linger a goodbye to the brown haired girl. She can see the desperation in his eyes.

As the brown haired girl walks lonesome into the night, she is careful. Though the light posts barely leave an illuminating glow, she carries a flashlight in her hands and grips her phone tightly in her hand in case of an emergency.

It's a short five minute walk from the coffee shop to her apartment building which is why she probably decides to risk the danger every night of walking alone when she shouldn't so late.

Lauren clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth knowingly. Having a routine is a bad move.

A lot can happen in five minutes.

-

Lauren continues to be hidden inside the darkness of the shadows as she walks a few streets behind the brown haired girl. She stands still as she watches the girl reach her apartment building and press in the number code she herself had now learned to memorize.

0721

Her stone face slowly withers away as a smile grazed her lips when she see's the girls next action. The brown haired girl exhales a nervous breath she was holding in and turns one final time to see if anyone is watching her.

Shaking off the feeling that she's being followed when she sees the empty vacant street, the brown haired girl securely closes and locks the buildings door.

As the girl disappears inside the apartment complex, Lauren takes out the silver stopwatch she carries in her pocket.

She starts the timer and finally presses stop, ending it when she sees what she needs. The lights flicker on at the brown haired girl's window, apartment number fifty-eight.

It takes the brown haired girl thirty-three seconds to reach her apartment on the third floor. Another two seconds to lock the door.

Pleased with how the night turned out and how well routined the girl always was, Lauren decides she's had enough.

She finally leaves out of the darkness she hides in and steps into the lightened cemented sidewalk, smoking a cigarette and taking a lasting glance at the girl's apartment.

Soon.

-

As she closes the door to her own apartment across town, Lauren can't help but feel satisfied with the details of the night.

She grabs a celebratory beer she feels she deserves from the rather empty refrigerator, kicks off her scuffed black boots in a neat position, and hoists her feet upon the clean glass coffee table as she sits on the couch.

Grabbing the thick journal she hides underneath the black leather couch, she writes the times of the night. Her smile returns when she notices the pattern from all the nights before where she has been watching her.

That girl was making everything far too easy.

Soon enough, she finds herself beginning to draw her newfound victim on an empty sheet of paper. She closes her eyes and lets her hand guide the pencil. She can see the girl clearly because she's learned to memorize as much as she can about her.

The night passes by and she's lost track of how many minutes have gone by. She pauses to take a drink of the now lukewarm beer and admire her work. She holds a fresh cigarette in her other hand and lets the smoke flow through her nose.

Though it's drawn in pencil, she can still see the golden brown in her eyes. The silk of her conditioned hair. The tilt to the side of her smile. The plumpness of her lips, especially the bottom one. The small freckles dotting around her nose and cheekbones. The jaw that sharpens further when she bites down on her teeth in nerves.

Everything about her was filled with beauty.

And Lauren planned on destroying it all.