"Pretty girls like you get lost in these woods all the time, Alexa."
On the night of Sebastián's annual Beginning of Summer Bash, amiable and adventurous Melody Tryniski went missing. What might have appeared as a juvenile escapade - a casual incide...
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I'M ALWAYS WATCHING, REMEMBER? Always remember this: when you think you're doing something without my noticing it, I'll always be one step ahead. The things you know, I'm allowing you to know. You don't have control over anything. You've never had, really. And now you're bothering me. Now I really want to play. I want you, Alexa. Come and find me. I dare you.
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The note is taped to the windshield of Christopher's car, beige and typed on a computer like the ones before it. For a moment, we don't say anything or move away from the motel room's door. We just stand here, looking at the note as its message looks back at us, bearing within it both a challenge and a threat.
But it's not the threat that's making my body grow cold with fear, it's the notion that he's here. He's been here the whole time, watching from a distance, planning his next move. My heart pounds in my ears as I look around the almost empty parking lot, my eyes travelling as far as the empty main road.
Where is he hiding?
I'm the first one to move, taking a tentative step forward before walking all the way to the car. With trembling hands, I grab the note. A piece of paper with some black ink holds the power to possess my whole existence. My body starts to tremble, Melody's painting falling to the floor from under my arm.
I want you, Alexa.
Dread begins to grow in my stomach, a vicious feeling that renders me nauseous, and rises to my chest in the form of a sharp pain that's inherent to fear itself. What does it mean? Does he want to do to me what he did to Melody? What does he want with me? Why does he want me? Didn't he say in his last note that I'm not what he's looking for? Didn't he warn me about trying to find him, that I will be as good as dead? Why the sudden change?
"Fuck," Christopher mutters behind me, pacing from one place to the other. "Fuck it! I'm going over there, to that fat fuck, and demand some answers. That fat piece of shit is probably the one who put that shit on my car."
