She wore a long, dark red dress, the kind that clung to her curves and accentuated her figure. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she walked into the bar, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor.
I knew I shouldn’t get involved. I knew she was trouble. But there was something about her, something that drew me in like a moth to a flame.
We talked for hours, laughing and flirting like we didn’t have a care in the world. She told me about her life, about her travels and her adventures. And I listened, captivated by every word that fell from her lips.
But then, as the night wore on, things began to take a turn.
It started with little things, like the way she would stare at me for too long, or the way her smile would freeze in place. And then it escalated, until it was like a living, breathing nightmare.
She would show up at my apartment unannounced, banging on the door until I let her in. She would call me at all hours of the night, whispering things into the phone that made my blood run cold. And then there were the gifts, the things she would leave for me on my doorstep, like a lock of her hair or a piece of jewelry.
I tried to break things off, to tell her that I couldn’t see her anymore. But every time I tried, she would find me, her eyes burning into mine as she begged me to stay.
And then, one night, she showed up at my door with a look in her eyes that I’ll never forget. It was like all the light had gone out of her, leaving behind only darkness and pain.
“I need your help,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s something following me, something that won’t leave me alone.”
I didn’t want to get involved. I wanted to run away, to forget that she ever existed. But I couldn’t ignore the desperation in her eyes, the way she clung to me like a drowning man to a life raft.
We drove out to the old abandoned church on the edge of town, the one that had been closed for years. It was dark and silent, the kind of place that made your skin crawl just being near it.
And then I saw it.
It was like a shadow, a shapeless thing that moved in the corner of my eye. At first, I thought it was just my imagination, a product of my fear. But then it began to take form.
It was like a person, but not quite. Its limbs were too long, its fingers too sharp. It had no face, just a gaping maw that seemed to stretch on forever. And it was always watching us, always waiting.
I tried to run, but it was like I was rooted to the spot. I could feel it creeping closer, its breath hot and putrid on the back of my neck. And then it spoke, its voice a low, rumbling growl.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
And then everything went black.
When I woke up, I was back in my apartment. There was no sign of her, no sign of the creature that had chased us. But I knew that it was still out there, waiting for me.
I never saw her again after that night. But sometimes, when I’m alone in the dark, I can feel its presence. I can feel its eyes on me, watching, waiting.
And I know that one day, it will come for me.