Chapter 2

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Sixth night supposed to be exactly the same as the previous ones.

Luna received twelve reports this night. She was really nervous today for some reason, lightly tapping her fingers on the mouse as she was reading through someone's text messages. 'They're innocent', she decided and shredded the file.

And then she heard the light in some of the back rooms turn off. Luna let out
a shaky breath. Hell. Her heart was already racing, and now she had to stand up from her happy safe place and go check the room. She definitely had to find another house. Preferably the one, where lights don't turn off by themselves.

Luna checked the cameras just to be sure, and when nobody showed up, stood up and walked towards the guest room. Nobody was there, she noted in relief, and the window was closed and locked. Oh how much she wanted to hide in the closet with her Internet router, look at it's lightdiods in the dark and wait until first sun rays seeped through the space under the door. But work is work. That was what she wanted, yet there are things that needed to be done. She wavered for a moment, looking around the room, and then turned back.

When she entered the living room, something felt off. Something was different. Her eyes feverishly scanned around the area trying to catch something, and then she found it. That discovery made her shudder.

There was a silhouette, standing right outside the door.

She froze only for a second, and then made it to door in two jumps. But it was too late. Someone was pushing the door open, someone much stronger than her and-- why in the hell was her front door open? Luna was shoving it with her life, but despite of her trying, the person entered the living room. She jumped back now, eyes filled with horror, looking at the man that now stood at the doorstep.

She didn't recognize him. He wasn't the one from the B.O.L.O.'s, neither she's seen him on the television or elsewhere. It was a medium-height man with broad shoulders, dressed in grey hoodie and jeans, probably in his forties or so. He had fingerless gloves on his hands, holding a knife in the left one. His face expressed pure madness; she guessed he was on drugs or something, his eyes visibly red.

He predatorily smiled at her. "Hello there, doll. Your parents didn't teach you not to open doors to strangers?"

Luna was trembling at this point. "You broke in. Please--"

"Well, the door was open," he said cocking his head a little, squeezing his knife tighter, " 't was definitely an invitation."

"Go away...", she only managed to say. His smile grew bigger.

And then Luna decided to act.

She rushed up to the kitchen counter trying to find a knife, and angrily remembered she tucked them all away somewhere. So she picked the first thing she got her hand on and swung, aiming for the head of the man already standing behind her. Ceramic plate shattered in many little shards, leaving deep scratches on his face. She managed to push him away in his daze and tried to run, but he swiftly caught her shoulder, yanking her back to him. "You bitch! You will get what you fucking deserve!", he yelled, aiming his knife at her. She kicked him right under the knee at reflex and bounced off, causing them both to fall.

Luna fell a little bit farther than him, and then immediately felt a sharp pain in her leg. And then everywhere at her back. When she lifted her head up, she saw that his hand with the knife landed hard, stabbing her in the shin almost handle-deep, and the floor beneath her was dotted with what remained of the plate. She hissed loudly and when he lifted his weapon from her leg, kicked his hand off. She tried to crawl away, but didn't get too far - he stood and pinned her to the ground in the middle of the living room, fixing her in place with his weight.

"Time to fucking die, doll!" he screamed and raised a knife above her head, holding it with both hands. Luna caught his wrists and held them away from her face, putting all the strength she had left into this hold, high adrenaline in her blood helping a lot. Hot tears came bursting from her eyes, her breath coming through loud gasps. She desperately wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but she was so shocked, so scared that others will come, scared that she would only make it worse. Could this situation get any worse?

Her hand slipped, and the knife landed heavily on the floor above her shoulder, scratching her badly. She breathed in hard and let out a cry. "Fuck you! Fuck you! Get away from me!", she screamed through tears, and the man lifted the knife once more. "SHUT UP! JUST DIE ALREADY!", he screamed back at her, the swing of the weapon making single drop of blood from the blade fall at her forehead. She grabbed his wrists again, but she knew she couldn't fight back anymore.

And when she thought everything was over, his eyes widened and his pressure on her hands weakened. She stared at the man while he was gasping for air, then dropped the knife and fell at her, lifeless. Luna pushed him away and sat up.

There was a syringe stuck in his throat.

And then she lifted her eyes to the figure, standing above her.

It was him. The man from the cameras.

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