(UNDERGOING REWRITE) Crime & Chaos [ ᴊᴏᴋᴇʀ ]

Chapter 4: Unwanted Guest

Crime & Chaos

" UNWANTED GUEST "

by alwaysgeia

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Stalkers aren't brooding admirers. They love the idea of reducing a human to a terrified, quivering heap of tears that would do anything they demand. They destroy the life you're trying to build for yourself until you're living for nothing but them. They're abusive to disturbing extremes. Talking to them is pointless; they see it as the beginning of a negotiation they intend to win. In other words, in every interaction, they're setting you up to lose.

Unlike an abusive relationship you think you can live with, they're making you guess whether the next thing they do will be to kill you or someone you love. A possessive admirer isn't what a stalker acts like. The possessive admirer probably has some boundaries they won't cross and a sense of self-preservation. A stalker doesn't. They'll take you down with them if they don't get what they want, and what they want is to take you down. Piece. By. Piece.

Julie dropped the card and stepped back into something solid. Brawny arms wrapped around her waist and arms before she could react and she yelled out, thrashing her legs. The person who held her hostage had let loose maniacal cackles, their grip on her figure painful. Bella had her hackles up and tail puffed, hissing profusely. Useless fucking cat; I should've got a dog.

"Let go!" She threw her head back and head-butted the man's jaw. A howl of laughter eluded him as his grip slackened, making it easier for her to escape his grip.

Shoving him off, she tried stabbing his side with the sharp-side of the key, but he dodged.

"You're lucky I didn't bring my, uh, toys, toots. It woulda' been a real party if I did."

"Stay away from me!" Julie had her key pointed at him like a handgun, arms extended to keep him at a distance, but an actual gun would've been useful right about now. Well, she knew now that he was much more terrifying in full makeup than without.

Up close to him now, she almost fainted. Like that day in the bank, his face was smothered with chalky white greasepaint, lips painted with vermilion and his eyes... his eyes were endless inky pits of darkness.

"Let's not be too hasty, Juuulie." He circled around her with his hands out in defence, gesturing towards her. She stayed silent, jerking the key to remind him. "Was your, uh, pop as feisty as you are?" A mocking giggle escaped his marred mouth.

She lunged at him and tried to stab his side again. How fucking dare he mention my dad again.

With a swift dodge of the metal once again, he grabbed her arm and twisted it, making her yell out and buckle to the floor. He used a heavy boot to kick her stomach, forcing her further into the woven floor.

Julie heard a crack and was sure one or two of her ribs were broken and she cried out in pain. Her back hit the floor and he straddled her like last time. Her head had also smacked the floor on impact, causing her to hiss through her teeth. Trying to smack him with her small hands, he struggled to keep her still enough to grab them. "Hold still."

"No!" She wouldn't stop, not even when her torso felt like it was going to rip in half. He managed to grasp her wrists in his hands; she had a little more fight in her this time.

Her chest rose and fell. The room turned deadly silent.

The only sounds audible were her own heavy breathing and his raspy panting.