Stalkers: A Dark Romance Anthology

by Ally Vance

  People were whispering and staring, as a small crowd was starting to gather, and I could feel my chest tighten. I liked being the centre of attention...when it was on my terms. Swallowing, my mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, and I can’t seem to force myself to move.

  Pulling me into the toilets, Emma shoves me against the wall of the stall and closes the door, trying to give us some privacy. “Fuck, Bec, this is serious. You can’t go to the astrology club tonight.”

  Her face is pinched, and I’ve never seen her like this before. She still has her hand fisted in my jacket, it’s how she dragged me in here.

  Pushing her away gently, I straighten. I needed to text Carter. Things were escalating. “I can, and I will.”

  She hisses, running her fingers through her hair. “This is dangerous.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I am going.” I manoeuvre my way around her and let us both out of the stall, where it finally feels like I can breathe again.

  I text Carter, who tells me to come straight to his studio after work. He wants to lay a little trap for my stalker, and I’m inclined to let him. I wasn’t going to be slut shamed in college or ostracised because someone was jealous and delusional.

  The rest of my day passes quietly, the janitor paints my locker door, promising to have it replaced by next week and the pastoral team give me the details for a contact in the police department who will be able to help. Emma texts me almost hourly, checking I’ve made it to the rest of my lectures and classes without any trouble, but she avoids asking me again about astrology club.

  It’s dark when I’m finally done, and it’s time to head over to the studio, although to be honest I’m not sure if I want to be naked on camera right now. I’m already feeling pretty exposed, and not in a way that makes me feel in control. I grab my keys between my knuckles, prepared to use them like a knife if I need to.

  “On my way,” I text Carter, just so he knows to expect me. I cut through a lane down into a park, it was the quickest way to get to him. The soft sound of footsteps makes me pause, but when I turn, I see nothing. The darkness plays tricks on me, as it looks like things are shifting, moving, but really it’s just my eyes trying to adjust. I hold my breath, to see if I can hear any tell-tale sounds of another person nearby, but there’s nothing but the night filling my ears.

  With a soft sigh, I continue. The familiar burn of eyes on my skin makes me pause, but yet again, nothing. Somewhere in the distance I can hear a tram squealing past as the traffic of downtown gets louder. My brain focuses on that, and I don’t notice the footsteps approaching. I don’t realise that I’m no longer alone, until a cloth is brought over my mouth and my world goes black.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carter

  Ruby is late. When I call her, there’s no answer, and I know, I just fucking know that something is wrong. Grabbing my bag, I keep hitting re-dial as I make my way to the campus. I don’t know what I’m expecting or where I’m hoping to find her, but it seems I don't need to worry about that as I receive a text that reads ‘Come to art room 206.’

  A sheen of sweat is slick on my skin, and I don’t know if I’m worried...or excited. I’d guest lectured here a few times in the art department, so I was vaguely familiar with the layout, but it was odd that Ruby wanted to meet there. She was a medical student, wasn't she?

  The building is in darkness, with a few stray lights on, here and there. University campuses are never really closed, what with late-night exam preparations, a twenty-four hour library and various student hangouts. But I still don’t know what I’m expecting to see when I open the door to 206, however Ruby tied to an art bench in a dimly lit room isn’t it. She has a dirty rag stuffed into her mouth, tears streaming down her face as she’s restrained by ropes, wearing nothing but her underwear. Her eyes go wide when she sees me, but she isn’t afraid, she’s pissed. It takes me a few moments to realise why when I notice that her stomach has been carved, for better want of a word, with the words ‘MINE’ and ‘SLUT.’

  “What the fuck, Ruby?” I hiss as I step into the room, only to be met with a dull thud to the back of my head. I’m forced to my knees by the blow, my vision swimming as Ruby starts screaming against her gag and fighting her bindings.

  “Shhhhhhh, Rebecca. That sound really goes through me.” A bored female voice filters through my hazy brain, and I try to work out where I’ve heard it before as a hand slides into my hair and yanks my head back. “You should have stayed away. You need to keep your hands off things that aren’t yours.”

  “You’re deranged.” I spit as something sharp presses into my throat. A knife.

  “Becca is mine.” A growl tickles my ear, and I’m straddling the line between excitement and fear. An ‘artist with a kink,’ isn’t that what Ruby called me? That was an understatement.

  “Christ, that’s disgusting.” A booted foot presses against the semi in my pants, and I resist the urge to groan. “I can tell how much you want her every time you touch her. That little show you did together was perverted. You need to learn to keep your sticky fingers off things that don’t belong to you.”

  Ruby watches us both, the anger flaring to life every time her kidnapper touches me. Damn, if only I could reach my camera, I’d give anything to capture that look. The possessive, greedy, furious look that brings her whole face alive.

  “You think you know Becca, but you don’t have a clue. Not a single fucking idea.”

  It hasn’t escaped my notice how she keeps calling Ruby ‘Becca,’ but I’d seen the lengths she’d go to in order to protect her identity, so I was assuming this was just another wall Ruby had built around herself.

  “She is mine. I know her better than anyone. I know everything about her.” The bitterness of her voice fills the room, hanging heavy in the air.

  That’s when it dawns on me. “You’re her roommate, of course you do.”

  “Oh, finally, someone notices me.” She finally moves out of the shadows, and crouches before me with her knife pressed against my jugular. “I left her flowers, gifts, little notes, I waited for her to come home after her ‘club’ sessions and made sure she still ate regularly. And yet, not once did she put two and two together. I thought that if I just waited, if I just bided my time, it would all work out. Then you had to go and touch her.”

  I can tell by her expression that she hates me, utterly loathes me, and that just makes this all the more delicious. Oh god, I really am a sadist.

  “You might know her better than anyone, but she still chose me,” I remark with a smirk, unable to help myself from provoking her.

  “Choose you! Pfft. Becca is mine. She may be obsessed with you, but it’s fleeting. If we had never gone to that damn exhibition, she would never have even looked at you twice.”

  “What are you babbling on about?” My head still aches from the blow earlier, and the crazy bitch isn’t making much sense as she thinks about stabbing me and ending everything.

  I look past her to Ruby, who is squirming, trying to free the rope on her left arm from the vice used to hold it in place. It’s shifting, but only slightly, so I need to keep the psychotic roommate talking.

  “The stupid show about come faces, I mean, what kind of sick pervert are you?” She presses down on my dick once again with the word pervert. “And the one about the blood? What the fuck was that?”

  Ruby...no, Rebecca, had been to my exhibits? Even the exclusive ones? My chest tightens as I process the new information. That explains why she wasn’t shocked when she’d seen those images in my flat, but why hadn’t she come clean about it?

  The woman keeps droning on, the pressure on my neck easing slightly as she vents. She doesn’t even notice as Ruby manages to free one of her wrists and goes to work on the other one. “I mean, I tried not to be disgusted since she’s a Fine Arts student. I thought it was just curiosity, and with a brother-in-law like Hugh Trent, it was only normal to be interested in the kinkier side of photography. But you...you just co
uldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”

  Hugh? CEO of DIX was her brother-in-law? I’d never seen them together, but then…Ruby told me she had no family, and I’d never seen anything to demonstrate otherwise. It was just always her and a few friends, including the crazy bitch in front of me. My mouth goes dry, just how many lies had she woven around herself? What was her truth? Ruby leans back, appearing as though she is still restrained as I call out, “I thought you were a med student?”

  The woman scoffs, trailing the knife down my neck, breaking the skin. “Rebecca? No, she’s a photographer with a side dish of sculpting. I told you that you knew nothing about her.”

  Even though I’d guest lectured at the college, I usually avoided the campus as a precaution. On the rare occasions I had, and I’d seen her, it never occurred to me that she was anything other than a medical student, since the School of Medicine and the Fine Arts building were near each other. I can feel the slick wetness on my skin as a trickle of blood follows the path of the blade as I whisper, “Why did you lie? You lied about...everything.”

  The roommate seems to enjoy my discomfort as she leaves me, to remove Rebecca’s gag. Leaning against the bench, she waves her knife. “Go on. Answer him.”

  She looks smug as she twirls the knife in her hands. “Tell him, Becca, and then I’m going to get rid of him. He’s ruining what we have.”

  We both ignore her as our gazes lock. Swallowing, Ruby’s eyes don’t leave my face. “Because if I told you that I chose this university for you, to be close to you...If I explained how I got into cam work through Hugh so you could watch me, hoping you’d finally notice me, would that have been okay? You would have run a mile.”

  “I wouldn’t have run,” my voice is low and steady as she moves her arm slowly. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ruby

  I can’t look away from him, I can’t bear to as I raise my arm slowly, trying not to draw Emma’s attention. She’s a fool for standing with her back to me. Was she that sure of herself? How could she think that I would want to be with her if she killed Carter? I never imagined that my creepy, possessive stalker was the roommate who babied me. Even in my wildest dreams, I never would have thought she could drug me, drag me to my classroom and slice into me like I was nothing more than a fancy cheese, while still expecting me to return her affection, but I wasn’t about to underestimate her again.

  Moving quicker than I ever have in my life, I use the rope that’s still tied to my wrist and pull it around her neck, choking her from behind. She reaches up, and I wrestle the knife from her with my other hand, but not before she manages to cut my shoulder and slice my arm.

  “Rebecca!” she chokes out, struggling against me. “Don’t do this…”

  Her fingers dig into my skin, as she tries to regain control, tearing and scratching at anything she can grasp. Her voice is croaky as broken words fall and escape her, the only one I understand clearly is, “Mine…”

  I wasn’t hers.

  I never was.

  With all the strength I have, I plunge the blade into her chest, still holding her back with the rope in my left hand. She gasps and flails for a few minutes, blood oozing out of her, creating a dark puddle on the floor, spattering across the other workbenches. After a few moments, her body becomes heavy and her breathing is shallow, slowing before it finally stops completely.

  Dropping the knife with a clang and Emma with a thud, I lean back, trying to catch my breath. What the fuck have I done? She hurt me, carved into my skin with a knife while telling me she loved me, but it wasn’t like when Carter hurt me. There was no trust, no pleasure, just pain. And that made me so angry. I liked to be watched, but that didn’t mean I was a free-for-all. I didn’t belong to her. I didn’t belong to anyone.

  My panic dissipates into disbelief as I look back up and see Carter crouched before us, with his camera out. “What the hell! Don’t just stand there taking pictures.”

  I should have known this whole thing would interest him. He was like a vampire, unable to resist the allure of the blood splashed around the room.

  His voice cracks as the shutter clicks. “I can’t help it, you look incredible. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes look hungry. It’s raw. And fucking real. Fuck, the crimson on your skin.”

  I snort. “Don’t tell me this is turning you on.”

  He crouches down to get a better angle as I free my legs from the bindings, skin raw from chafing. “I’m a sadist, what can I say?”

  He takes a few more shots before stepping towards me, fingers outstretched, hovering over the words engraved into my body. “This is a feast for the eyes.”

  She hadn’t cut deep, but they would leave marks, maybe they’d fade one day, maybe not. I didn't really care at this point, because the way Carter’s tongue flicked out over his bottom lip as he lifted his camera to capture them made my heart race. I was sick. But he was sicker, and in this moment, I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself around him and burrow under his skin.

  “What will you do with these images?” I ask as I dip my finger into the sticky lake on the floor, smearing up my legs before tracing around the angry words, perfectly aware of how Carter’s breath quickens.

  “Use them in my next exhibition...with your permission.”

  “You can call them ‘An Ode to Rebecca,’” I reply softly. I didn’t want to be Rebecca anymore, she was a liar with too many secrets, too many faces and ashamed to admit that she loved to be watched. To be wanted. Rebecca was weak.

  Carter lowers the camera to smirk at me. “Does that mean no more lies?”

  “It means you’re going to need some more material for your show.” I wink suggestively, before getting down onto my knees in the blood and cupping my breasts. It doesn’t take Carter long to shift back into bossy photographer mode as he directs me, telling me where to place my limbs to get the best shots as we both ignore the dead body beside us. Any sympathy or friendship I felt for Emma vanished when she’d laid her hands on me.

  “Come on, we’ll finish this back at the studio.” Carter’s eyes are dark, and I know he wants to touch me. To own me. “Grab the white spirit.”

  “What’re you planning?” I ask as I hand him a bottle from the cupboard, usually we use it to clean the brushes and tools.

  He places the camera on the workbench, taking the white spirit in one hand and grabbing my chin in the other. His lips crash into mine, desperation in every touch as his mouth claims mine with the same fire in which he fucked me only days before. I resist the urge to whine when he pulls away, because I want more. I always want more when it comes to Carter.

  He begins to pour the strong-smelling liquid over Emma. “We’re going to burn the body and leave, like we were never here.”

  Biting down on my lip, I look around the room. There are final projects in here, pieces that students have worked on for months, and for the first time, I feel guilt. “The whole room will go up, look at all the flammables in here.”

  Carter gives me a look that says he understands, he’s an artist too, but there’s not really any other option. “That’s the point.”

  Using his lighter, he bends down and catches the hem of Emma’s blouse alight. I grab my clothes, and attempt to wipe some of the blood from my body, but he lifts a hand, motioning for me to stop. “Leave it, I want to fuck you like that back at the studio.”

  A shiver runs down my spine, and once again, I’m cursing myself for being a slut and at the same time fucking loving it.

  Straightening, he pulls me into his arms. “Hey, what’s a little arson between a murderer and her lover?”

  “You’re twisted,” I say, kissing his neck as we watch the fire spread, consuming the crazy roommate who stalked me, threatened me and cut me open.

  He leans down and nuzzles my hair. “And you love it.”

  “I do.”

  Epilogue

  Three months later...

  booms, grabbin
g my hand and shaking it firmly. I can’t help the smug grin that tugs at my lips, if only he knew they were of his sister-in-law, but Ruby asked me not to tell him. I don’t know why, since he’d already seen me fuck her live on camera, several times, but I wasn’t venturing into their family politics. We were DIX’s hottest couple, the masked master and his very compliant lover, much to Dex’s disappointment.

  Ruby stands in front of an image of her breasts, smeared with blood, water running down every curve and dip of her body, mixing with the crimson. It cuts off just above her mouth, and I’m convinced Hugh knows it’s her, but they both prefer to remain in bliss for the sake of her sister, who by the way has a litany of secrets of her own. The words ‘slut’ and ‘mine’ contrast angrily with the fluidity of the image, but it’s beautiful. Raw. And a small part of me is saddened that the words have faded now.

  She’s wearing a strapless silver wrap dress that catches in the low lighting, her wig firmly in place, since there are quite a few DIX employees and investors here this evening and she still likes to keep part of her life exclusively for us, not that I mind. I’ve seen her naked, cut open and exposed in a way no one else has. On multiple occasions.

  “Is it strange that I’m getting turned on looking at myself?” she muses, bringing a glass of champagne to her lips as she ponders on her exhibitionism kink.

  I place a hand at the small of her back and guide her along to the next image, which is another one of her, in her dorm window. The shadows obscure her face, but again, the curves of her body demand the viewers’ attention, lit up by street lamps and moonlight.

  “I haven’t seen this one before…” Her voice is breathy as she admires the print.