7. Lyric

Chapter seven

Lyric

CARMEN AND I SAT SPEECHLESS on my bed, stunned into silence by the image of Devin's eyes being gouged out. The sound of his screams and pleading echoed in my head. I felt sick to my stomach as the vision replayed repeatedly in my mind. It was like a gruesome horror movie stuck on repeat.

"He's killing for you," Carmen muttered, transfixed by the display as if she couldn't tear her gaze away even if she wanted to.

All that lingers in my memory are the masked man's eyes from earlier tonight. So haunting. Any average person would have been running for safety or calling the police. But I was far from any normal person. Inside, I felt a sense of joy knowing this strange man was causing suffering to my rapist, making them pay for the physical and emotional pain they caused me. They had ruined my life, and he was taking theirs. Secretly, it put a smile on my face.

At last, Carmen shifted her position and spun around to face me. "Do you think he's stalking you or just some crazy dude out for vengeance?"

I firmly disagreed. "No, it looks like he just wants revenge. Maybe something happened to someone he loves, and my suffering resonates with him."

The idea crossed my mind that he could be a psychopath. Yet, strangely, I felt aroused by the thought of him killing them for me. I hadn't the faintest notion of who he was. There was no one else in my life. I had been on my own since my mother died when I was seventeen. My father left years before that.

"It's bizarre that we saw him tonight," Carmen said as she shut the laptop lid, halting the streaming video.

The cloaked figure, disguised in all black with a hood hiding any distinguishing features, had delivered yet another threat to those related to my rape - and the video was gone. Comments from viewers were now all that filled the formerly occupied screen.

She picked up her bag, shouldering it as she spoke. "I'll catch you in the morning, okay? I have a study group at eleven." With that, she headed for the door.

I rose from the bed. "Aren't you scared?" I inquired, bewildered. Why was she so serene when, moments earlier, she had been terrified when we saw him in the street after the movie?

"Why would I be? I mean, he is killing shitty people."

"You were terrified of seeing him before," I replied.

She shrugged. "It was like a horror film. Frightening, yet thrilling," she said with a smile as she opened the door and walked through it.

As I gazed at the door that Carmen had disappeared through, my mind was filled with conflicting thoughts. Part of me believed she was completely bonkers, while another couldn't ignore the excitement that coursed through me at the thought of him being anywhere, anytime, even watching me at this very moment. My heart raced, and my body warmed with a mix of both guilt and arousal as a primal fear of what this killer was capable of also consumed me.

The sun had barely begun to rise as I hurried down the street, my hood pulled tighter over my head to conceal my identity. A light breeze carried a crisp chill through the air, causing the autumn leaves of orange and yellow to flutter gracefully around me. The streets were still quiet, with only the distant sound of early morning traffic breaking the peaceful silence. Fall colors danced before me, creating a picturesque, almost magical scene in its beauty.

Balancing my stack of textbooks, I hurriedly made my way to the cozy coffee shop for a much-needed caramel latte. The moment I opened the door, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped me like a warm hug, instantly soothing my frazzled nerves from the tumultuous evening I had just endured. The comforting scent permeated every corner of the shop, mingling with hints of cinnamon and vanilla. As I approached the counter, my shoulders relaxed, and my mind drifted away from all the stress and chaos outside.

As I stood in the snaking line, craving caffeine and a moment of peace, my eyes caught on him. He was perched at a small table by the window, completely immersed in his own world. The soft glow of his laptop illuminated his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his deep brown eyes. His earbuds snugly fit into his ears, shutting out the bustle of the coffee shop around him. But what caught my attention was the intricate tattoo that adorned his arm - a beautiful, enigmatic design that hinted at a story behind it. I couldn't help but wonder about this mysterious stranger as I waited for my turn to order.

The stoic presence of my protector, whose identity remained a mystery to me, was unnerving and alluring. His silence commanded respect from those around us, but for me, it only fueled my curiosity and fascination. I caught myself between two enigmatic men, and with their air of danger and instability, I couldn't help but feel drawn to them in different ways. I wonder if the second hero of mine even knew my name, like the creepy vengeance-obsessed killer.

I longed to approach him and express my gratitude for defending me, which bubbled up. But I knew that would only fuel the gossip mill, so I clamped down on my tongue and patiently waited.

The cafe was filled with the mingling chatter of customers and the gentle whirring of the espresso machine - the warm sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a soft glow on the scene. I shifted on my feet, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as I finally reached the counter to place my order.

I placed my order at the counter and then stepped away to wait for my drink. However, my gauge drifted back towards the man sitting by the window. It was impossible to deny his attractiveness. His eyes were a deep, dark brown that seemed to see right through you. They held a quiet intensity that was both intriguing and intimidating. His lips were full and perfectly shaped, and his jawline was sharp and defined with a light dusting of stubble. Usually, he could be seen wearing a ball cap, but this time his hair was shaved on the sides and styled in a sleek comb over on top. The contrast between his dark hair and fair skin only added to his striking appearance. He exuded an effortless confidence that made even the most handsome of gods seem clumsy in comparison.

"Lyric!" The barista's voice rang out, causing the tattooed man to look up and make eye contact with me. I couldn't help feeling like my name was called a little too loudly as I scanned the cafe nervously.

Instantly, I jerked my eyes away, grabbed my coffee, and quickly exited.

I hurriedly stepped outside, my hood pulled low over my face, walking by the window where he was seated.

I fervently hoped that he would return to his previous task, focus on the glowing screen of his laptop, and pay me no mind. However, his intense, obsidian eyes remained fixed until I was out of sight. The piercing gaze felt like a physical weight pressing down on me, making breathing hard as I hurried away.

My first few classes were a nightmare. Every set of eyes seemed to be fixed on me with suspicion and fear as if I were the notorious murderer from that disturbing livestream. Each step down the hallway felt like walking through a gauntlet of judgment and scrutiny. The weight of their stares made my skin crawl and my heart race.

As the clock ticked closer for class to start, I eagerly pulled out my laptop and prepared for the lesson ahead. Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine as I sensed his presence in the room. My hands began to tremble as he entered, his imposing figure towering over me like a looming shadow. With hesitant movements, I swiveled around in my chair, meeting his intense gaze that seemed to pierce through my soul as he walked in and headed toward the seat next to me.

I could feel my heart rate increasing as I glanced at him. "Hey," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. Our eyes met, and he smirked and then looked away. A mix of disappointment and anger stirred inside me, but I forced myself to keep my composure as we sat there in awkward silence.

As the class began, I tried to ignore his strange behavior. Maybe he was just as troubled as I was, and that's why he had taken an interest in me. But instead of speaking up, he watched over me silently, like a guardian angel with secrets hidden behind his piercing gaze.

As the professor said that class was over, I gathered my belongings and placed them neatly in my bag. Suddenly, a pair of polished black boots appeared in my vision on the classroom floor. My heart skipped a beat as I saw two stern-faced detectives standing before me, their crisp button-up shirts, ties, and badges gleaming in the fluorescent lights. The weight of their presence immediately filled the room with tension, making it feel smaller and more confined than ever before.

I inhaled, then exhaled slowly.

I knew it.