TWENTY THREE

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ꜱᴘᴏᴛɪꜰʏ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʙɪᴏ

G H O S T F A C E

Midnight had long passed and all the sleeping criminals of Hogwarts lay in their own beds or of another. Some still partied in the haunted house buried in the forests and some were passed out in the corridors. But nobody noticed me, the masked killer cradling an unconscious girl in his arms.

My blood stained cloak was a whisper in the night. All the tattered fabric followed my step, my strides strong as I carried a girl, as light as a feather. So delicate when she slept, yet so fierce when she was awake.

And such dark things she has witnessed tonight. A murder. A young man, tortured and killed in the dead of night by two crazed men wearing Ghostface masks.

I knew where her dormitory was—of course I did and when I entered the familiar room I placed the sweet girl onto her bed. Her dress rode up her thighs, over those perfect, sexy tights that had been such a distraction all night. I pulled her dress down and continued dragging my finger down her slim thigh while she slept peacefully. Her chest rose softly.

I wonder if she'd scream if she awoke and saw me.

Raven was right. She is going to be a distraction. I should kill her now before I fall even deeper into this. . . obsession. Killing her will be so beautiful. So fulfilling. However, a piece of my black heart wanted to keep her breathing for as long as possible. Keep those blue eyes sparkling, her cheeks rosy and her midnight-black hair shiny.

It'll be a shame to kill such a beautiful creature. A creature so wild and exotic. It'll be a shame to have to hurry her into the woods with the skeletons from years before my turn at this sacred game.

I stood up straight, my clock drooping from my shoulders. I watched her with a feral mind. I wanted to play the game of the Hunter for a while longer. I enjoyed it. She is the rare prey I crave.

But, just like Raven said, I can chase, I can catch but I cannot feast, only kill. And only when the time is right.

I forced myself to leave. The one thing encouraging my steps out was knowing the hunt is only just beginning and soon she will scream for me.

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Copyright © Kirsten Enn

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