The Stalker (Elvis Presley Story)

Chapter 23

Melissa was still staring at the blood when a voice whispered, "he only wanted to talk to you, Melissa. Too bad you didn't listen."

Slowly, Melissa looked up.

Stephanie Thompson stood just beyond Elvis's feet.

Steph.

Melissa swallowed, too frightened to speak. Steph tucked a strand of icy blonde hair behind her ear and smiled.

A deadly smile.

"Surprised?" She asked.

Melissa just stared. Steph was dressed  in black. Black jeans. Black jacket. Black boots.

Like a shadow.

Keeping her eyes on Melissa, steph moved forward, skirting Elvis's body. As she walked, something rattled and clanged on the stage floor.

Melissa's breath stopped when she saw what it was.

A two-foot length of heavy lead pipe with a thick chain attached to one end. She held the pipe down, along the length of her leg, letting the chain drag behind her.

She stopped next to Elvis.

Letting her breath out, Melissa glanced anxiously at Elvis. Steph had hit him with that pipe, hard enough to knock him out.

Hard enough to kill him?

"I don't think he's going to be able to help you, Melissa," steph said. She lifted her foot and nudged Elvis's arm with the toe of her black boot.

"Stop it!" Melissa cried. She got all the way to her feet. She'd seen Elvis's back rise and fall. He was breathing. He wasn't dead. "Don't touch him again!"

Steph's eyes darkened. In one swift movement, she raised the pipe and cut the air with it. The chain slammed across the boards, just missing Elvis's fingers.

Melissa flinched and stumbled backwards.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Steph was breathing hard. "Don't you ever tell me what to do!"

Melissa steadied herself, but her gaze darted frantically around the stage and the auditorium. Steph was between her and the stage doors now. She couldn't go that way.

"Looking for a way out?" She asked. "Forget it."

Melissa's throat was dry. It hurt when she swallowed. "I don't understand." She took another step back. "This is crazy. I don't understand why you're doing this!"

"Oh, very cute," Steph said Sarcastically. She tapped the pipe against her thigh. "You're a lousy actress, Melissa. You know exactly why I'm doing this."

"Elvis," Melissa murmured. Elvis was..."

"Elvis is crazy about you!" Steph shouted. "I see the way he looks at you, the way he always looked at you, don't think I didn't!"

Melissa shook her head. "But I....."

Steph slammed the chain against the stage again. "You thought you could hide it from me. But I knew something was up. I watched him, Melissa. And he never took his eyes off you."

As steph took a step forward, Melissa backed up. Took a quick glance over her shoulder. The stage left wings were behind her. A costume rack. The prop table. Beyond that, the door she'd come through from the hall. She jumped, gasping, as the chain rattled again.

"You should of seen his face when he saw you at the club," Steph continued, slapping the pipe against her leg. "You did see it. Didn't he remind you of a dog, Melissa? He did everything but drool. If he had a tail it would of been wagging!"

Melissa inched backwards, but she didn't dare look away again. Her eyes went back and forth between steph and the pipe.

"I knew he was obsessed," Steph went on. "But with you, not with me! And it should of been with me! I tried to get through to him. But he couldn't hear anything or see anything but you."

"So you pushed the set on me. Called me from the phone booth. Tried to drown me in the pool. You were the one in the white car, and you..."

"Sliced up your bear and your costume," Steph finished. "You're catching on. It makes sense now doesn't it?"

Melissa just stared at her.

"You're like something hideous, growing inside Elvis. And I have to cut you out!"

As she talked, steph kept moving towards Melissa, backing her into the darkened wings.

Gasping, Melissa stepped backwards. Steph kept coming. She was holding the pipe up now, coming closer to Melissa.

Melissa took one quick glance over her shoulder. Saw the costume rack, black leather jackets hanging from it. The prop table. Wrenches.

Another tire iron.

"Don't even think about it, Melissa," steph warned.

Melissa whipped her head around.

"By the time you make it to the tire iron, this chain'll be wrapped around your neck. Imagine how that will feel," Steph said with a grim smile.

Melissa didn't say anything. She was thinking of the prop table. She took another step backward, one hand behind her. Stretched her fingers out, feeling.

There!

Her fingers closed over a smooth metal tube.

Melissa spun around. Leaped behind the costume rack. Grabbed hold of it with both hands and shoved the rack straight at steph.

And then she was running. Behind her, she heard the wire hangers pinging loudly as the jackets fell from them.

She was on the stage now. Elvis's body stretched out in front of her, still not moving. She wanted to stop, but she couldn't.  She couldn't help Elvis if she was dead. She had to get out - across the stage, through the wings and out the stage door. She was just past Elvis's head when the heavy metal chain lashed out and whipped around her ankle.

Screaming in pain, Melissa crashed to the stage floor.

Whoa! So Steph is the Stalker....do you think Elvis will be OK? Hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks for reading! xoxo