Chapter Eleven

Mallory

“Be right back, I need to tinkle,” I say to a half conscious Victoria. She’s sprawled out on the couch and mumbles something I can’t make out as a reply. I stopped guzzling wine when I first saw my stalker tonight, making the decision to switch to water so I’d be sober if he got his big, tattooed hands on me. I round the corner to my room and pick up my phone. I see I have missed messages from Ghost. Yes, I saved his number in my phone. He makes me smile and I don’t want to be ashamed of it.

Ghost:

It’s not me, baby, I swear.

But I’m coming.

Where was he Mallory?

What? What does he mean it’s not him that I saw out the window? Turning towards the glass, I see he’s still standing outside, he’s just closer now. Can’t say I’m a fan of this new mask, it’s something right out of my nightmares. Just a white burlap sack on his head with grotesquely cut holes for eyes. It’s similar to that horror movie "The Strangers". That one is truly scary as hell. The group of psychos have no real reason for killing except "you were home". It’s the movie I throw on when I really want a scare and to not end up aroused. A chill runs down my spine as the man outside tilts his head to the side, watching me. It’s fucking frightening.

Mallory:

What kind of game is this, Ghost?

I can see you through the window.

My phone vibrates in my hand while I’m watching him through the window. I ignore the message, thinking it’s Victoria asking me if I got lost on the way to the bathroom or something. But, more and more texts come in while I’m staring out the window and it’s impossible to ignore. Looking down, multiple messages from Ghost light up my screen. Fear bubbles beneath my skin as I realize this isn’t a game. He’s not the one outside. He said he was coming though. Swiping open my screen I read his messages.

Ghost:

It’s not me.

Although, if it were me, what would you do?

Would you flash me a glimpse of that beautiful smile?

Or those gorgeous tits?

Seriously, little siren, it’s not me.

I promise you, I’m not lying.

You can stop eye fucking him now.

I said, IT’S NOT ME!

Okay, enough. This ends now.

Don’t scream.

The last message comes through while I’m still looking at my phone screen. My eyes dart to the scene unfolding in my yard. Ghost is creeping across the grass, crouched low to the ground like a predator stalking its prey. I suppose that’s exactly what he is. I have no idea what’s going to happen but I’m struggling to keep my expression neutral. His gaze clashes with mine through voids in the mask and he raises his finger to the gaping maw of the Ghostface mask. Once again, reminding me to "Shhhhh". I have to be quiet, I don’t want to scare the shit out of Victoria. I can only hope the wine worked her over and she’s finally passed out on the couch.

What happens next seems to play out in slow motion in front of my very eyes. Ghost comes up behind the other man outside and wraps his right arm around his neck. Using his other arm to lock in his grip, he applies pressure on the back of the fucker's neck, effectively cutting off his air supply. He struggles and flops, trying to get away, but Ghost is an immovable force. I see the fight drain out of the man in the creepy mask but Ghost doesn’t relent. He’s going to kill him. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. I’m sick. Sick. Sick. Sick in the head. He’s dead weight in my protector’s hands and I can feel my heartbeat in my pussy. Sick.

He drops the man that was undoubtedly going to hurt me and makes his way to my window. Are we about to have some " Romeo & Juliet " moment? I fucking hope not. He just killed someone to protect me. From what? I don’t know, but I can’t imagine the creep outside my window had good intentions for me. The irony of that isn’t lost on me. I realize I was just saved by the other creep who likes to hang out by my window.

He places his gloved hand on the glass, adding yet another print to the many that already decorate my window. And I place my palm on the glass, against his. It’s weirdly intimate and my heart leaps into my throat. How can I ever thank him for what he did tonight? Nothing will ever be enough to cover the cost of taking another life. Suddenly the man on the ground is moving, rolling onto his back. Probably wondering what the fuck happened to him. Picking up on the shift in my gaze he looks over at the man in the grass. Ghost grabs him by the shirt collar and drives his fist into his face, over and over again. I’m not counting, but when he turns back to me his mask is splattered with blood. His gloves are saturated in it, they are gleaming wet and dripping onto the grass as he stands there letting me stew in the gravity of what’s happening between us. He’s massive, wild, a feral predator with me in his sights but I’m anything but scared now. I know deep in my gut he would never hurt me. He comes back to me, only a few inches of glass separating us. He raises his hand to the window again but this time he smears the blood saturating his glove across the pane. Removing his glove, he uses his finger to draw a heart in the blood. His shoulders slouch and he pulls his phone from his pocket. Bloody thumb tapping the screen and then my phone chimes in my hand.

Ghost:

I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, I swear.

My insides twist. While I’m wholly flattered by what he just did and said, this must mean he knows about my past. To what extent? Do I want to know? Shame fills me and I want to recede into myself and hide. I’m not deserving of whatever this man feels for me. I’ve been used and abused and I don’t know how to reciprocate his feelings. The urge to run is overwhelming me. Can he see my insecurities written all over my face? He looks up at me and then turns away. He bends to grab the unconscious man by the collar, dragging him across the lawn and then slowly disappearing into the woods.

Graves

The sound of Edward’s agonized screams ring through the forest. I have Ryan’s intestines wrapped around his neck but it’s not giving me the leverage to strangle him. It’s too weak and slimy. The psychological torture it’s having on him to have his friend’s innards draped around his neck like a lei is good enough for me though. Torturing him has reduced the rage I was feeling to barely a simmer. I’ve never done this to someone before, but he had to pay for whatever he was going to do to Mallory. He’s dry heaving and gasping for breath, the thick tang of iron floats in the air around us. I release him from my grasp and he flops around on his stomach like a fish out of water. Unknowingly worming himself closer to his own grave. I unsheathe my knife and track it down the back of his leg. He stills. I slice. I find myself wishing I had been able to draw out the death of Mallory's parents. Slice. They deserve it the most out of anyone, but I had never killed before and was more focused on protecting Mal and not getting caught than anything else. Kick. He rolls. Thud.

After I left Mal, I dragged Edward back to my truck and tied him up. Not that I was worried about him escaping since I had accidentally hit his head on every possible rock and branch on the way back, but…one can never be too careful. Retrieving Ryan was much easier. He was right where I left him and a few pints lighter. When Eddie regained consciousness, I made him dig his own grave, extra deep so he and Ryan can spend eternity together. When he was done, I tied him up and force fed him his own eyeballs for even looking at what’s mine. I really am a sick motherfucker deep down in the foundation of my soul. I should probably go to therapy or some shit but all of this is Mallory’s fault. I was always able to suppress my dark side before she swung a wrecking ball into my life.

I would be a terrible cop if I knew someone was in danger and did nothing to protect them. Right? Are my methods a little drastic? Sure. But who wouldn’t go to any lengths necessary to protect the one they adore?

Edward is currently laying in the bottom of that grave sans his achilles tendons, eyes and hands. Chopped off at the wrist, just as I assured Mallory I would do. Since my intestine idea went belly up, I took away his ability to walk and kicked him down into the hole. He lays next to his partner in crime, slowly bleeding out from my shitty cauterization job. How he is still holding onto consciousness is beyond my comprehension. It must be the adrenaline forcing him to stay coherent while I prepare to burn him alive. I begin pouring gasoline into the grave and he starts wailing like a baby. I’m sure he can smell what’s about to happen to him. I can’t take his blubbering anymore, I light the match and toss it in. His screams become deafening. Man, I hope there’s no one around. I’d really be in a pickle then. I’m not in the mood to kill anyone else tonight. The crackling sound of the fire calms my beast and I force him back into his cage. Deep breaths and happy thoughts. I need to regain my composure before heading back into civilization. Pulling out my phone, I fire off a text to Mallory.

Ghost:

You’re safe now, little siren.

Sweet dreams.

Fuck, I’m hungry. I wish I had some hotdogs or something. I’m suddenly craving barbecue.

∞∞∞

It’s nearly 4 am by the time I return home from my excursion. It’s a good thing my body is still wired to my night shift schedule or else I’d be dead tired now. I hop in the tub to have a quick shower. I got a little too dirty when I decided to fill in the grave last minute. I was impatient, down on my knees and pushing the dirt into the hole with my hands. I have to scrub all the evidence from my skin before returning to the station. I still have paperwork and stuff to do at the end of my shift before clocking out.

I throw on a clean uniform and head to the gas station to fill up my truck. Everything is working out for me tonight. I’m going to get reimbursed for the gas I syphoned from my tank to roast those criminals. Mallory is safe and I’m going to be off for the next three days, just like her. I plan on pushing her to her limits, I’ve been too soft. Just because she saved my number in her phone and it made me all warm and fuzzy inside doesn’t mean I’m changing. It doesn’t mean she will like all of me. I’m sure what she witnessed last night scared her shitless. I only hope she can look past my brutality to see the bond being woven between us. Soon I’ll reveal my shrivelled up blackened heart, and hopefully she will realize that it beats only for her.