Wicked Chase

❖ Chapter One

[dedicated to Miksha, who supports me with everything] 

CHAPTER ONE

You know that urge you get when you want to know something and suddenly out of nowhere the opportunity presents itself and you want to so badly grasp that opportunity so maybe at least some of your queries may be solved? That was me when I discovered that the man in my nightmares was attending one of my university classes.

It was a normal, chilly Wednesday when I noticed him. He walked into my Quantum Physics class, his strides long and full of purpose before taking a place two seats behind me, a row to my left. A few people were still immersed into their own conversations that revolved around an obvious gossip topic while many people stopped talking so they could take a look at the new student who looked brooding and attractive all at the same time. He was clad in different shades of dark. His t-shirt was a v-neck that fit snugly against his muscled body. He didn't look all that buff but the muscles that pushed against his sleeve and his abdomen were very visible and, if I may add, pleasing to the eye. He wore black, washed out jeans that hung low at his hips giving all observers in the class a peek of his plain grey boxers. All in all, he looked very dangerous, repulsing and probably was a member of the mafia - not that I am accusing him of anything but his dark looks and the aura that shrouded him would probably be most welcome to that sort of group.

My eyes never left him as my heart beat rapidly against my ribcage. I always thought that I was crazy. That even though my nightmares meant something, they were just figments of my imagination, manifestations that were both alluring and terrifying. Yet there was the very man in my nightmares, seated right before my eyes, looking exactly like the man from my nightmares. Was I hallucinating? Was what I was seeing truly real? Was he real? What did my nightmares mean then? More importantly, why was he in my nightmares?

After a couple of minutes of his entrance, the class' chatter had died down and the ones who were so immersed in their conversations finally noticed the shift in the atmosphere - from light-hearted to uncomfortable. His sudden action took me by surprise and made my heart do a double take. He looked up, his piercing eyes looking at me and for a second, I swear, my heart stopped. His silvery gaze never left mine and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Out of all the many people to look at he just had to look at me with that sort of great intensity. His facial expressions nor his eyes betrayed him and I was not able to tell what he was feeling or why he was looking at me but I knew it had a purpose. He came off as those guys who seemed to have a purpose for every action and would not waste time with worldly things therefore giving me a very cryptic look that I could not decipher had to mean something. It mildly surprised me that I was able to get all this information, no matter its size, in the span of a few minutes.

Mr Gilman, who strode into class with the boring expression he always bore, was the one who snapped the man from my nightmares and I out of our reverie. "Alright class," he addressed us, "surprise test."

The whole class groaned in response to his statement and I tore my eyes from the man to look at my professor. His words clicked into my mind and when I finally processed them I gaped at the man, his glasses perched on his pinocchio-like nose, who looked gravely serious.

I tried to stop myself from clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth in annoyance when the two sheets of paper were harshly slammed against my desk. Gosh, I hated tests so very much. When I browsed through the questions I frowned at their level of easiness. This was supposed to be a test. Why did it look so easy? When I looked around me many of my classmates had similar expressions on their faces and to say we all looked confused would be stating the obvious.