It took a few seconds for Elara to find her thoughts again, for her heart to find its rhythm again, and for the adrenaline to wear off, only for the aftershocks to take its place.

The rose lay heavy in her shaking palm, a constant reminder of that thing's existence- and the hold it already seemed to have over the people she cared about.

"No..." she whispered to herself, her gaze dropping down to her shaking hand while her fist closed around the flower. The perfect stem crumbled under her anger and the fear that resurfaced every time the image of that thing's face flashed in her mind.

"NO!" she screamed, her breath heavy with emotion. She raised her arm, about to throw the rose on the floor as hard as she could. Yet she couldn't bring herself to actually let it hit the floor. A burning sensation soon tingled in her eyes, the headlines of women torn to pieces entering her thoughts.
A small sob slipped past the lump in her throat, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn't want to die... no.

No.

She refused to be used or torn to pieces. She couldn't be another victim, another fly in its web.

Just then, a familiar sound startled her from her thoughts, a buzzing noise she knew all too well, yet a flinch was the first thing that left her frame. Her eyes scanned the otherwise quiet apartment, darting toward every shadow that was tall enough for it to be him before eventually landing on the buzzing device that lay face down on the table.

Elara held her breath, cautiously walking over to the table. Becky's smiling face flashed before her eyes, a flicker of hope tingled in Elara's chest at the thought of hearing her cheerful voice again.

She picked up the device, all her hopes evaporating when a large lit-up button flashed in her face.

It wasn't Becky.

That was her alarm. Her work alarm, to be precise.
Her gaze moved to the small timestamp in the corner of the screen. The breath she had been holding came out in a gasp.

19:30. Her shift started in thirty minutes.

If Elara didn't leave now, she would be late, but despite the urgency, she felt her legs tremble under her weight. Yet she forced herself to move anyway.

Elara nearly dropped the device as she rushed to her bedroom. She changed quickly, slipping her shoes on, nearly tripping over her own feet as she ripped her jacket off the coat hanger, causing the fabric to tear, leaving a dysfunctional hole in its wake.

Elara didn't give it as much as a second thought as she stuffed her keys into her pocket and went to open the front door, only to stop before her cold hands could even brush the door handle.

She looked over her shoulder, the rose still lay on the table, the stem crumbled yet the rose itself still looked perfect, making the display more sad than romantic.
Not that there is anything romantic about the situation... but still.

Should she bring it? What was she even supposed to do with it?

A shaky sigh escaped her lips. The clock was ticking and she needed to leave. Checking all her pockets for the essentials- phone, wallet, earplugs, and keys- Elara eventually shook her head, glaring at it. That flower could stay there and rot for all she cared.

Turning back to the door, the young woman opened it. The cold winter air already nipped at her cheeks, her eyes scanning the darkness before she stepped outside.

____________________________________________________________

The cinema across the street from her school seemed like a great place to work, since both were decently close to her apartment, and the pay wasn't that bad either.
She still needed to pay the bills after all.

Yet the whole way there, she felt nonexistent eyes burning holes in the back of her skull. Once, she even almost walked into a streetlight because she was too busy looking over her shoulder every 5 seconds instead of actually paying attention.

Good thing there aren't that many cars this time of day; otherwise, she might as well have been run over...
Elara let out a sigh of relief when she finally entered the building. Somehow, the twenty-five-minute walk had only made her look even more exhausted.

"Jezus, Elara, are you okay?"

The student flinched, whipping her head around until her frightened eyes met those of Richard, her coworker, before slowly relaxing.

Richard was a hardworking man somewhere in his early 30s, with long black hair and deep brown eyes. He was always ready to help out even outside of work hours.

Elara smiled faintly at him and nodded, moving a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she shrugged her jacket off.
"Yes, I'm okay."

"Like hell you are. Those bags could read me a bedtime story." Richard disagreed. "What happened?" he asked, concern etching over his face.

Elara sighed, glancing at the outside doors. She didn't know if she should tell him anything... she didn't want that thing to start targeting Richard too... he had a wife and a kid... not to mention he'd probably drive her straight to a psychiatric ward if she told him a faceless monster had handed her a rose after breaking into her apartment.

"Just... tired, is all..." she eventually lied but wouldn't meet his gaze.

Richard followed her gaze toward the entrance before looking back at her.
"Hey. You can relax a little, alright? Place is covered in cameras and there's still staff around."

The young woman nodded, but didn't look at him.
"I know," she replied and finally turned around to face him again.

"Elara." Richard lightly tapped the counter. "Seriously. What happened?" He raised an eyebrow. His tone reminded her of an overbearing father. She never thought she would find comfort in something so simple.

"Nothing, really," she lied and thought for a moment before adding, "I just feel... unsafe with all the recent murders..."

"And yet here you are. Coming to work when it's dark out on your own. Honestly, you might as well hold a neon sign saying 'easy target,'" Richard said while moving his hands around in the air like he was holding an actual neon sign, forcing a small smile onto Elara's face at the ridiculousness of his actions.

The man dropped his arms and shook his head, clocking himself out before stepping away from the counter.

"And before you argue- I'm driving you home later. You look like you'd get hit by a bike crossing the road like that."

(Authors note: Hey everyone! Thank you for reading Faceless Desire so far.

I really appreciate all of you sticking with the story- especially since this is a slower build-up compared to what I usually see in Offenderman fanfics.

Chapter 10 marks a bit of a milestone, and I'm excited to continue to write and improve my skills.

If you're enjoying the story, feel free to leave a comment. I always love hearing your thoughts, theories, and suggestions.

Thank you again for reading, and I'll see you in the next chapter 💙)