Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
It should’ve been easy. She’s eighteen and freshly enrolled in Unitas University.
Sure, her father has powerful enemies, but none of them have made a move yet.
It’s a piece of cake to stalk someone who isn’t expecting it. Most people live comfortable lives. They never had to sleep with one eye open in case someone tried to stab them in their sleep. They move through life, oblivious.
This girl is more oblivious than most. She hasn’t just been sheltered and protected for most of her life; she’s been kept in a bubble. Locked down. She’s been homeschooled for years and barely has any friends. Barely any contact with anyone other than her father. And now she’s living in a big house near campus, all alone.
She thinks she has more freedom, but it’s an illusion.
I’m watching her. Following her from home to campus and back again. I’ve been doing it since the spring.
By the end of the first day, it was clear that this girl was going to drive me fucking crazy.
It doesn’t help that she seems to have been designed in a lab to tempt me. Pouty lips, big brown eyes, petite with perky tits. She dyes her hair white blonde, and I constantly imagine threading my fingers through those silky strands, taking hold, and drawing her head back. Controlling her.
But that’s not the job. I’m not supposed to get close. But the more I watch her, the more I want to.
She’s constantly eating candy or cookies or cake, and it makes me want to sit her down and feed her properly.
She talks to flowers and trees. She hugs the trees, too. Most people would think she’s weird, but she fascinates me. I’ve studied her like I’d study a dangerous opponent. In the fighting ring, I had mere seconds to read my opponent and find his weaknesses. The most dangerous opponent was one who was unpredictable. Not understanding someone’s behavior would get me killed.
I don’t understand this girl at all. She lives in her own little world. At first, I didn’t think she understood how to behave, but now I think she does and just chooses to break the rules. She’s half feral.
Right now, she’s bouncing around campus carrying a big basket and wearing an outfit that I’ve only seen in porn. Why? What is she doing?
She’s up to something.
At one point, she stops and looks around. I get a thrill knowing she’s looking for me.
I want to get closer. I want her to notice me.
I’ve never wanted that before.
I watch her talk to some male students outside their dorm. They’re leering at her, drooling over her tits and ass. I want to gouge out their eyes just for looking at her.
And for what? There’s no reason for me to hurt them; they’re not threatening her. But I want to kill them all the same.
She’s just a job.
She disappears into the dorm, and I grind my teeth, wanting to follow her.
Instead, I force myself to stay put. I check my phone and see that my brother has texted.
Jaeger: Movie night.
This is his weekly invitation to watch a movie at his place. He and his woman love holiday movies, the cheesier the better.
I should hate watching those sorts of movies, but I go to watch them anyway. I want to like them. I want to understand them. What would it be like to be one of those cheerful people on the screen? To feel basic things like love and connection?
The hardest part is watching my brother’s woman cuddle up to him. He looks at her like she’s his world. He loves her enough to die for her, and she loves him right back.
I wonder sometimes how it would feel to love someone like that. But it’s not to be. My heart’s too scarred to feel much more than hate or the occasional surge of bloodlust. Even when I’m with a woman I’ve hired for the night, I feel nothing. It only reminds me that I’m numb to all decent human emotions and always will be.
Except now, I’m feeling something new. Something I’ve never felt before.
Kaiser: can’t tonight
Jaeger: You still watching the girl?
I don’t answer. There’s no reason for me to be the only one watching her all this time. I can tag someone else in at any time.
But I don’t want to. How can I explain that I want to be the only one to follow her? To watch her?
To prey upon her?
My obsession is growing. And that’s dangerous. A good fighter can’t become too fascinated with an opponent; that’s how you make mistakes.
She comes out of the dorm, and I put my phone away.
She looks the same—her clothes aren’t rumpled and her makeup isn’t smeared.
It wasn’t a hookup, although she does look satisfied. And her basket is empty.
She’s walking up the path, straight toward me. I imagine stepping off the path and grabbing the back of her neck and forcing her to face me.