Haunting-Adeline

Maybe that’s all the more reason to call.
He’s probably planning on murdering me right now, just like Gigi’s stalker
murdered her. I’ve read over that note and combed through her diaries for
the past three nights, but I haven’t seen any evidence of her stalker being
the murderer yet.
But I’m sure I’m right.
Eyeing him, I pick up my phone, stand directly in front of the window,
and put the phone to my ear. I haven’t even dialed the police yet; I just
want to see what he’ll do.
Because evidently, there’s something wrong with me.
I’m playing with fire. The more I provoke him, the more likely he is to
come a er me. But I can’t stop myself. I can’t stop the sharp thrill that I get
every me I push back.
It’s as addic ng as it is stupid.
I can’t see his face under the deep hood, but I know he’s smiling at me.
Knowing that doesn’t give me the reac on it should. I should be repulsed. I
should be scared. I suppose I am scared, but what I’m really feeling is the
urge to smile back.
My phone chimes in my ear. Brow plunging, I hesitantly pull the phone
away from my ear and look at the incoming message.
UNKNOWN: Am I supposed to believe that you’re on the phone with
the police? I think my little mouse is a liar.
Oh, no, he didn’t.
I angrily type back my message.
ME: Want to find out?
UNKNOWN: Yeah, I do, actually. I’d love to punish you later for it,
too.
My thumbs freeze over the le ers. The last punishment was gruesome
and sickening.
ME: What, you gonna send me toes next?
UNKNOWN: Depends, are you still pretending to fuck other guys?
Or would you rather yell at the ghosts in your house again?
My head snaps up and I stare into the depths of his hood. His phone is
perched in his hand, wai ng for my response. The ligh ng from his phone
is set to low, the dim glow cas ng enough light to show me his wickedly
sharp jawline and a por on of his smirking lips.