Person of Interest

Chapter 3: Hotline Ping

"Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever afterward resumes its liberty."

-Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: "To The States"

Your POV:

"that'll depend on you, sweetheart."

I paused before hesitantly pulling back a bit to look up at him through my lashes, swallowing when my eyes met his... not-eyes. Instead of pupils, two pinpricks of red light floated in his empty sockets, like ruby garnet stars in two vast seas of black. They were frightening as they were mesmerizing, and I found myself tilting my head up fully to try and get a better look.

"Heh... like watcha see there, darlin'?"

I flinched at his voice and leaned back when I realized how close his face had gotten to mine. I averted my gaze and squirmed uncomfortably as he leaned in with half-lidded eyes and a wide, wolfish grin, pressing me closer to him. I was grateful that the cold and my drying tears hid my heated blush.

"fuck, lookit that face... you're killin' me here," he rasped as his grin became tighter, strained.

He came closer still, brushing the crook of my neck and shoulder with his teeth as he chuckled.

"hmmmm..." he greediy drank in my scent before heaving a slow, growling sigh that heated my skin. He sounded dazed, like a man stumbling homeward after a barhopping binge. I let out a low moan of fear as J instinctively began pushing at his chest in a desperate attempt to get away.

'No... no. Please, please no...'

"S-Stop...!" I pleaded desperately, raising my voice for the first time since I'd screamed in the alley. When he stilled against me and loosened his hold slightly, I almost sobbed in relief.

He slowly and stiffly straightened, pulling his dagger-like fangs away from my neck. He looked down at me with an expression I couldn't read. We stared at each other for a few silent moments before he abruptly let me go and stepped away. I watched in bemusement as he promptly turned and walked into the kitchen, crossing the entire living room with just three steps.

"sans."

I cocked my head in confusion. "W-What?" I asked his back.

"s'my name. sans the skeleton," he said as he opened my pantry and started casually rummaging through it like it was a completely natural thing to rifle through someone else's property without permission. I fought a scowl as he continued; there was no point in getting annoyed right now. "nice ta meetcha- well, nice for me, at least. for you, not so much," he chuckled.

He fell silent then as he continued looking for whatever he wanted off my shelves, leaving me to my frantic, panicked thoughts. Quietly as I could, I dropped the blanket from around my shoulders and cast a cursory glance around the room, looking for anything that might help me get away.

"not gonna bother askin' your name; doubt you'd gimme an answer." He huffed out a small laugh. "guess i'll keep callin' ya sweetheart. no skin offa my back."

I continued searching as he talked to himself. My gaze landed on my home phone on the coffee table just five feet away. Maybe if I could just dial 911 while he was distracted... couldn't they track my location or something?