Haunting me a stalker se.., p.1
Haunting Me: A Stalker/Serial Killer Romance, page 1
Haunting Me
A Stalker /Serial Killer Romance
Izzy Ravas
Copyright © 2023 by Izzy Ravas
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Izzy Ravas
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book Cover by Izzy Ravas in Canva Pro
First Edition 2023
Contents
Content Warning
Epigraph
Playlist
1. W E S
2. L A Y N E
3. W E S
4. L A Y N E
5. W E S
6. L A Y N E
7. W E S
8. L A Y N E
9. W E S
10. L A Y N E
11. W E S
12. L A Y N E
Epilogue
TO BE CONTINUED
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Content Warning
Dearest Reader,
While I am so happy that you are giving my book a chance, I have to give you a warning on the contents of this novella. If you are like me and 99% of the time read these lists like a kid in a candy shop...then feel free to skip. But on the off-chance you can be triggered by things (and it is okay to not read it! Your mental health matters more to me!) Then here you go.
This book contains graphic sexual content, masked mmc, virgin FMC, blood play, knife play, praise & degradation, OTTP MMC, Dub-Con, Stalking, Serial Killer MMC, mention of SA of a child (non descriptive), murder, torture, mention of child abuse, drowning, and if I have forgotten anything else…oops!
"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."
-Edgar Allen Poe
Playlist
•Haunting Me- Stabbing Westward
•Chokehold -Sleep Token
•Evil- Hish
•Dangerous Hands- Austin Giorgio
•Like That -Sleep Token
•Victim- memyself&vi
•Alone In A Room(Acoustic) Asking Alexandria
•Wicked Game- In Flames
•Bone (feat. Diggy Graves) - R3azons
•Heavy is the Ocean- Bush
•Freakshow- Alejandro Lema
•Nothing Else Matters- Metallica
Chapter one
W E S
A cloud of smoke surrounds me as I exhale the last drag of my cigarette. The nicotine calms the urges that are coursing through my body. I watch her from the fire escape of her tiny apartment. My girl, well soon to be my girl. I’ve been watching her for three months now and I’m thinking it’s time we finally meet.
She is dancing around her apartment, some metal band is blaring through her speakers. This sounds like a pig getting stuck with a knife, annoying squealing sounds. I'm a fan of many genres, but this is just fucking awful. I know Ma Petite Mort has better taste than this. After the song ends, thank fuck, she gets ready for bed. It’s already two in the morning.
Her apartment is above a pizza shop, so she has no neighbors at night. An absolute fucking dream. No one to hear her screams. Oh, she will scream. She’ll scream my name so loud people down the street will know it. My girl downs about five shots of vodka and then lays down on her bed. I wait patiently for her to pass out.
After an hour, and no actual movement, I pull up the window in the main living space. My sneakers touch the hardwood floor and make a creaking sound. She's lying on the bed in the back of the apartment. Nothing. She’s such a hard sleeper. With the place so quiet, I can hear her deep breathing.
What I would give to hear it stop momentarily with my hands wrapped around her throat. While my cock is deep inside her pussy.
I make my way to the bed, purposefully making noise, hoping she will wake up and find me hovering over her. My victims' fear excites me. Her fear would be the best kind of drug. As I look over her body, I take in the sight of her curves. I groan as my cock thickens against my zipper. I’m not into somnophilia, but fuck, I would fuck her while she slept in a heartbeat.
Despite the echoing zipper sound, she doesn't wake up. I pull out my cock and start stroking. My free hand finds her ass cheek, gliding my fingertips across. She shudders and I stop, my other hand still inching me closer to release. She shifts to where she is lying on her back.
Ma Petite Mort choking on vomit is the last thing I want. I'm the only one allowed to take her life. I quickly get myself to the edge of coming. Then stop. I take a minute to regain control, then shove my cock back in my jeans. I'm enduring the torture of edging myself because I want to be inside her when I come.
Gently, I shift her so that she is lying on her side. She doesn’t even notice that it’s a pair of hands helping her move. I get a view of her ass again and I’m tempted to edge myself again. Instead, I pull out the piece of paper with my note scrawled on it. I place it next to her glasses on the bedside table. Along with a bottle of water and a pain reliever.
A thoughtful stalker.
I whisper to her, "Next time, Ma Petite Mort. I'll be so deep inside you, you'll never get away from me."
She shifts and cuddles her body pillow and drifts deeper into sleep. I climb out of the fire escape, glancing behind me. Her chest rises and falls, full of life. I pull the window down and slide down the ladder. Exiting the alley, I light up another cigarette.
Time to release these urges.
I take ten minutes to get back to my car. I always park it far from the pizza shop. The walk back helps keep me focused. The chill of the bay creeps around me. My girl lives too close to the water, in a not-so-safe area. She doesn’t have to worry, though. I’ll scare away all the “bad” guys. The only monster that gets to haunt her is me.
I climb into my 64 GTO and fire up the engine. It roars to life, surely pissing off the residents. Its low rumble fills the street. The GPS on my phone has the tracking pin for my next victim, Samuel Baker. I found his profile on the sex offender registry and then followed him around to make sure he had been keeping himself out of trouble.
He hasn’t been. Samuel has been cruising the middle school in the area every day since he moved to the city. Recently, he’s had his eyes set on a particular young girl. I'll keep her safe from him.
Outside Samuel’s rundown house on the outskirts of the tenderloin, I wait. I grab the energy drink from the cup holder and pound it. I will require some serious sustenance once I am done.
I wonder how the pizza is in the joint under my girl’s apartment?
The hours pass and right on schedule, Samuel appears on his front porch at 4:50. Only today he won’t be making it into his shitty corporate job. The darkness will still conceal me as I walk up the porch. Nevertheless, I pull my mask down and throw my hood up. I get out of the car, opening my trunk, ready to drop him in. Crossing the street, I make my way up the steps silently.
The piece of shit doesn’t even notice someone behind him. Taking the syringe out of my pocket, I toss the cap. I grab him in a chokehold and plunge the needle into his jugular. He slumps back and I shift him so I can fireman carry him to the trunk. His body makes a satisfying thud as I drop him in.
It takes no time to drive to my waterfront warehouse. I pull through the gate punch in the code, pull over, and hop out to lock it. Fuck I need to fix this thing! In the building with my car tucked inside, I get Samuel out of the trunk and drag his body to my workshop. Just as I finish tying his legs down, he comes to.
“Wha…where am I?” He says, his voice shaking with confusion and fear. The mask still covers my face. As I rise, he catches sight of it and screams. The zombie face does that to people. It’s twisted and creepy as fuck.
“He…hey man, le.. lemme go. I won’t say shit to anybody,” he pleads like the soft-ass bitch he is.
“Oh, Sammy. Can I call you Sammy?” I circle him, my favorite knife twirling between my fingers. Sweat beads on his forehead as his whole body trembles. There’s the fear!
I crack my neck. “Oh Sammy, unfortunately for you. I can’t let you go. You’ve been a naughty little maggot, haven’t you? Little girls, your thing, Sammy. You sick fuck!”
I drive my knife into his groin. Samuel’s shrill scream fills the warehouse as I stab him again and again. Blood pours down my wrist. “Please, man… I haven’t touched a girl since…since,” his voice falters as he begins to pass out. I bring my knife to his throat.
“But you were planning on it, weren’t you, Sammy?”
“I am your executioner, Samuel Baker. I have judged you and deemed you to be unworthy of life. You rape children and for that, you must die. Any last words?” My voice firm and emotionless.
“Please…I.”
I don’t allow him to beg for his life. The blade slices through his neck, severing his carotid. His heart pumps his blood, and it spills out onto my hands. Euphoria courses through my body. The only thing better than this will be sinking balls deep into ma petite mort pussy.
Side-stepping to face him, “Thanks, Sammy. That was just what I needed!”
I take time
It’s taken years to perfect my methods, and for the past four years, it has been flawless. By the time I am finished, I am starving! Who knew chopping up a body could make you so hungry? After heading up to the loft, I take a quick shower and change into clean clothes. Have to make myself presentable just in case I run into my girl.
Chapter two
L A Y N E
The light shines through my bedroom window. I stretch out and reach for my glasses. A piece of paper brushes my fingers before I get to them. I strained to read it without my glasses, but the blurry words on the paper read, " I'm coming for you Ma Petite Mort."
My little death. I don't belong to anyone. I've never had a partner or been in a romantic relationship.
Thanks for the reminder, creepy fucker.
What the fuck!
I look around my small apartment and wonder how someone broke in without me waking. The city is full of noise, though. I sleep like the dead. So someone could break in. Glasses on, I notice a water bottle and a white pill on the bedside table. My head is thumping, but I am not dumb enough to take a random pill sitting on my bedside table. I jump out of bed and sprint to the bathroom.
"No more drinking," I swear, hunched over. The alcohol helps me sleep. My brain will not shut off on its own. Even more so now that there is some creepy son of a bitch getting into my apartment. I brush my teeth and take a quick shower. Outfit of the day, vintage metal t-shirt, black mid-thigh skirt, and my knife harness and blades. A girl can’t be too safe in the city. After getting dressed, I make my way to the kitchen. I check the time.
“Shit!” I grab a granola bar, bag, and phone.
I rush out the door, locking it behind me. Tramping down the stairs, I make my way out of the building. I don’t have a car, who needs a car when they live in the city? I do, because I cannot for the life of me seem to get my shit together enough to be on time anywhere. Ride-sharing has been a godsend, but it's expensive. I’d rather be spending the money on a vehicle of my own. My ride is ten minutes away, so I pop into the pizza shop for a slice and a drink for the road.
“What’s up, Roman!” I shout over the noisy kitchen.
“Hey! Layne! Chica, where have you been? We practically have a whole pizza waiting for you.” I roll my eyes. All because I haven’t come down to the restaurant in a few days. It’s not been that long.
“Don’t exaggerate. You know me, always running late.” I said. He snorts as he puts a few slices in a small box and hands me a soda.
After thanking him, I pivot, making my way to the door. I stopped when I saw the most striking pair of green eyes staring at me. He is sitting at the table shoved in the corner, hood over his head. I can see his dirty blonde hair underneath, and it's a curly mess. He licks his lips like I am something for him to eat. My core aches just looking at him.
“You okay, Chica?” Roman calls to me, noticing I have stopped completely. He steps out from behind the counter.
“I’m good,” I shout back. Before I can even say anything, my phone dings, letting me know my ride is here. Our eyes connect for another moment. Shaking myself, I run out the door before the ride leaves.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked into the record/bookshop I work at. Late as fuck, I look around, hoping that the owner, Kris, isn’t here.
“You’re safe, LaLa,” Atlas shouts from behind the counter. He is sitting on a stool, book in hand. Thank fuck! I didn’t need to hear again about how my job was at risk because of my tardiness.
“Bitch, don’t you have a phone? You know you can set an alarm.” Atlas snorts at my disheveled appearance.
“Shut it, Atlas.” I set my bag and pizza box on the counter. “Want some pizza? Roman gave me enough for you, too.” Atlas’s eyes perk up at the offer of food.
“Are you banging him yet? You know he has the hots for you.” He says taking a slice of pizza out and moans. “The man can make pizza, and I bet he fucks like a God.”
I take a slice of pizza , taking a bite. The delicious greasy food soothes my empty, sour stomach.
“Then you fuck him,” I offered. Atlas knows I am a virgin.
“LaLa, he is hot. Why not? Who are you waiting for?” He says, bringing his hands to rest under his chin, leaning onto the counter.
That's the problem. I don’t know what I am waiting for. Someone who gets me and my quirkiness? Someone who won’t think I am fucked up for the things I like. My childhood was fucked and I just never wanted to drag someone down with how I can be.
“I don’t know, Atlas, I just want something real. Someone who can see past all my brokenness and love me even though I am fucked up.” I say, feeling the weight of my words.
Atlas hops off the stool and hip-checks me, his long chain smacking my knee. He throws an arm around me in a half-assed hug.
“You are the strangest chick! So moody and broody. So find you a moody and broody guy, match that energy babe! Let's check the dating apps.” He takes out his phone.
“No thank you, that's how girls end up dead.”
Atlas rolls his eyes and puts his phone down. “Fine, but let’s go out this weekend and maybe we can find someone for you to hook up with.”
I nod, knowing saying yes will be the only way to get him off my back this shift. Plus, it's been a long time since I went out and enjoyed myself.
“Let’s go to a show. There are some good ones in Oakland this weekend.” Atlas pulls out his phone and looks up all the local shows.
The great part about working in a place you love is that time flies by. We dance around the shop blasting music and read whenever we feel like it. We get plenty of business too. That makes Kris happy. I took the closing shift tonight. Atlas left a few hours ago, making me promise I would text him tomorrow to figure out our plans. I close up the shop and as I am locking up; I realize I forgot to schedule a ride.
Get your shit together Layne!
I stand up against the window of the shop as I order a ride. Nothing is showing up on the app. Shit. This is what I get for being a procrastinator. I GPS the distance if I was to walk. It's a trek, but I can do it. Maybe I can catch a bus if I pass one. I pop my earbuds in and start walking.
Is this the safest thing I could do? Probably not.
My walk is going unbothered. My audiobook is playing in my ears, and my legs are already killing me. Need to exercise, Layne. I recheck the map and see I am still twenty minutes away from my apartment. Up ahead is a park with lots of big, beautiful trees. I think about it for a second and decide to cut through it. Walking in the chill night air feels fantastic. The dirt trail with trees cuts right across the map to where I need to head.
Halfway through the trail, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I shiver, thinking it is just the cold, but the rustling of leaves on the ground puts me on alert. I spin around. Stepping onto the trail from between the trees is a dark figure. It inches closer and I let out an ear-piercing scream. Covered head to toe in black, a tall person in a zombie mask is staring back at me.
My brain is telling me to run, but my feet refuse to move. The figure moves closer and finally, my fight-or-flight kicks in, and I take off toward the trail’s end. I am running as fast as I can, but it isn’t enough. Whoever is chasing me is fast.
A deep, sinister chuckle echoes through the trees. “Ma Petite Mort, I told you I was coming for you.”
I trip at the sound of the shadow’s words. The paper this morning! Holy shit, this fucker has been inside my apartment.
I can see the street up ahead, and I try to get up. My knee is fucked! I get on my feet and just as I am about to take off, hands wrap around my waist, pulling me into the hard body behind me. I continue to scream as loud as I can “Help, someone! Please!” He spins me around to where I am now face to face with them.
