Medusa//19

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Medusa: One of the three monstrous Gorgons, generally described as winged human females with snakes in place of hair. Those who gazed into her eyes would turn to stone.
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Jack watched as the girl crumbled right in front of his sight. He was surprised to see her come to their little meeting place this late. For all he knew, she would usually visit early in the mornings before leaving for work. Jack felt a weird sensation flow through his body as she trembled on the bench. He could hear her heartbeat bump in his eardrums, making it hard to hear anything else.

How troublesome.

The feeling was bothering him – he couldn't tell what it is, but it felt like he had been running, and the adrenaline of it started to wear off.

He watched as she barely folded the letter and waddled over to leave it. The eyeless man followed her every move, all the way to her apartment. When he saw the light turn on, he headed back to the tree. Usually, Jack enjoyed watching his victims' scared expressions as he killed them. He enjoyed taunting them on late nights, seeing their bodies match the quivering lips and ragged breathing. This, however was different.

Jack had never stalked a person for so long. The longest he'd ever stalk someone was three days, before he tore their brain to bits. He liked praying on the girl at first, but it no longer brought any amusement to him. She just wasn't as fun as she was before. Thinking about it, he had realized that he was present during all her behavior changes. The boy witnessed her going from a determined cheerful demeanor to a broken shell. There weren't any noticeable changes in the way she looked. She carried a smile every time he'd see her with Oliver, besides the first time he had seen her.

When he started observing her through the window, there was never a trace of any painful expressions. Was this what breaking someone psychologically meant? He didn't particularly feel bad, but he was interested. He wanted to know more about her.

Jack's mind played the events from about twenty minutes ago on repeat. The irritation - anger rather, that emitted from her made him feel it as well. Feeling so strong that impacted him for a moment, how amazing. But there was one thing that made him shiver slightly.

Her eyes.

For someone who was nothing but a regular human, her eyes showed no fearful expressions and shape. They looked the same as usual, content. It made him freeze. He had never seen someone look so cold, so dead. Her eyes looked like death itself, thinking if he'd look them any longer he'd turn to stone.

"Dear Stranger,
My favorite character is Cathy as well. I also liked how smart she is and how nicely she was written. I have read "The Impaler" – I'm glad that you found the prequel yourself, I was going to recommend it to you, but you beat me to it. I hope that you will enjoy reading the other book, I know I have. If you have any other books you would like to recommend to me, I'd like to hear it.
Best regards, your Stranger."

Reading the letter, Jack took notice of how she ended it. She had never written her regards and farewells before. She thought this might be the last one she wrote, the boy thought. He didn't bother responding to her letter. Stuffing the paper in the pocket of his hoodie, Jack made his way to her apartment. Maybe it was time for the two to meet.

(Y/N) laid in bed, her head turned towards the ceiling. The dread consuming her made her body feel numb. She didn't bother stressing out anymore, she just couldn't. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft sounds of her radio that she turned on when she had woken up, and her breathing.

(Y/N) was a pessimist. Even as a child, minor inconveniences would lead her to think about the worst. Unlike Oliver, who was a very positive person, (Y/N) would always spiral down to hell when she'd face problems. Of course, she would get over it rather quickly, but her initial reaction at first would always be negative.

Swallowing her saliva, the girl lifted her arm in the air and stared. She stared at her fingers, and would wiggle them from time to time, just to know that she was alive. Her other hand rested on her chest, feeling the heartbeats flow slowly.

Inhaling deeply, she remembered the mornings she'd wake up to a fresh breakfast. It was funny how only last Thursday she was laughing and having fun with her three friends in the city. That day was the first one she had actually completely forgotten about her stalker. The first one in which she genuinely felt happy. Sulking wasn't going to get her anywhere, she was aware, but what were you supposed to do when you knew certain death awaits you?

Blinking a couple of times, she rose herself up into a sitting position. Looking around the room, she paid attention to every detail of it. To her old radio, the books resting on a bigger bookshelf, her table, neatly cleaned. She picked up the gun from underneath her pillow and held it. No, she wasn't thinking about ending her own life, she just admired it.

The girl had no idea of what time it was, she was too lazy to check her phone, but it definitely was some time after midnight. Not even remembering when she passed out in her room, (Y/N) chose to believe that she got at least four hours of sleep.

The urge to get up and go to the bathroom to freshen up was something that crossed her mind, but was quickly forgotten about as a loud thud made its way from the living room.

Not thinking twice, the girl removed the safety on the gun and pointed it at the door, focused while quietly backing up against the wall. Forcing herself to breathe quietly, she paid attention to the almost deaf footsteps that seemed to approach her room.

Was it really going to end like this?

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