“W-what do you want?” I had scurried as far back as I could, and my back was now pressed up against the right armrest of the couch. I could feel myself starting to sweat, and my mind rocketed between thinking of what was about to happen next and thinking of a way out.

He didn’t answer me, only ambled away from the kitchen, and closer to me. I tried again, with a different question.

“Who the f-fuck even are you?” My voice was shaking even though I was doing everything in my power to stop it.

Act tough and you are tough.

Easier said than done.

“Oh, you’ve probably heard of me,” He said offhandedly, leaning in to peer at the photos I had on the wall next to my bookcase. There were dozens of photos I had hastily taped or tacked to the bare wall, most of them featuring Violet and/or Conor, my other best friend. He was also my only other friend.

Sure, I was acquaintances with a lot of people, mostly people Vi or Conor had tried introducing me to, but I considered those two to be my only real friends.

Now, however, was not at all a time to be thinking about that, because the stranger’s attention was back on me, and he strolled casually closer, sitting down on the opposite end of my couch.

Get away get away get away.

“H-heard of you? What are you t-talking about?” My knees were drawn up to my chest, and I kept going over a mental list in my head of any possible thing I could use as a weapon in my apartment.

I have knives in the kitchen. But he’d stop me before I reached him.

He’s a lot taller than I am. And he looks stronger, too. Most people are stronger than me, though.

Can’t call anybody, the phone is in the kitchen, too.

What the hell am I going to do?

“Oh yes. Surely you’ve heard about the recent string of murders around town?” He smiled, all teeth.

My blood ran cold.

I visibly gulped, I couldn’t help it, and his grin only seemed to widen. My hands were shaking as my mind raced.

Surely he doesn’t mean what I think he means.

No no no no there’s no way, it’s not possible-

Things like this aren’t real, don’t happen in real life. This is only a story, only a dream. This can’t be my reality.

I didn’t even realize I was mutely shaking my head at him until he chuckled at me, his eyes blank and without humor. My palms were sweaty, and I felt like the air was being sucked out of the room, like I couldn’t breathe.

“You- you have to be joking,” I whispered the words hoarsely, gripping the top of the couch as if it might keep him from me.

He gave a wide smile at that, his teeth a bright, bruising white. “Afraid not, darling.”

I pressed my lips closed, trying to keep my fear inside of me, trying to keep it from spilling out onto the couch and onto him. “What do you w-want?”

“I need a place to stay, and you seem to fit perfectly into the standards.” His arm was resting on the top of the couch comfortably, and the sight made me sick.

No no no no no no.

“What? N-No! You c-can’t!” My eyes had gone wide, and millions of awful thoughts were going through my head, each one worse than the last.

“Oh yeah? And just who is going to stop me?” He leaned forward, once again wearing that smile that was too wide, too fake.

Yeah, Theo, who? Certainly not you. You’re cowering in the corner of the couch.

I didn’t answer, and he leaned back with a satisfied smirk. It occurred to me a second too late I should have lied, and said I had family coming into town, or that I had a boyfriend who was going to be home soon.

Time isn’t money anymore, now it’s survival.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He crossed one long leg over the other, a slender eyebrow raised.

I was struck with a sudden idea. “W-Well! I don’t know what you’re expecting, b-but I don’t have a lot of money, so there isn’t a lot to eat here!”

Well, it isn’t exactly a lie. It’s not like I’ve got money to spare.

Especially not money to buy extra food for a murderer on the run.

“Not an issue, I’ve got plenty.” The smirk didn’t leave his face, and I knew suddenly without a doubt nothing I was going to say was going to make any difference.

My face fell, and my eyes slid down to my lapas I kept twisting my fingers together.

There’s nothing you can do to stop him.

You’re just going to let him run over you like that?

What else am I supposed to do?

Set some boundaries. Don’t just let him do whatever the hell he wants to.

Like what?

“You have to s-stay out of my room.” I tried to make my voice sound strong and intimidating, but my fidgeting hands probably gave away whatever poor illusion my still slightly-shaky voice may have put up.

“Sure, whatever you say, kid.” He didn’t seem all that concerned, and only kept looking at me in amusement, like he already had me figured out.

We sat in silence for a moment, and the awkwardness grew pallible, and I was just wondering what the absolute hell I was supposed to do when a yawn broke through my mouth.

I laughed nervously, and it sounded fake and out-of-tune. “I um, I’m going to go to m-my room.” I stood up quickly, letting my instincts take over as I walked out of the living room and into the hallway so fast you would have thought my feet were on fire.

“Oh, and hey, just a reminder, I wouldn’t call the cops if I were you. There’s at least ten minutes before they get here where you and I will be alone.” His voice sent shivers through me, and fear ran through my blood thickly.

I found myself violently nodding my head up and down as I continued walking, jetting to my bedroom door, where I pulled it open and then slammed it shut again as soon as I was inside.

Well then.