Ch. 1: an Uninvited Guest (bts)

Beyond the Shadows - Chapter 1: An Uninvited Guest

He's here again. My shadow.

The house is cold today, the cool December air permeating through the tiny cracks in my windows and walls. Even sitting by the open fire, I bury my hands between my thighs to keep them warm, praying my nipples don't cut a hole through my new jumper. I never regretted the decision to buy a house secluded and cut off from the rest of the world. The Scottish valleys and lochs drew me here and stole my heart years before I could afford my own house.

Picking up the fire poker, I try to ignore the figure lurking outside my floor-to-ceiling windows. He's lit a cigarette, the soft ember glowing in the darkness, and the only evidence my stalker has come to visit once again. I should hate the intrusion...I should probably buy some curtains too...but screw him, he can look, but that's all he gets.

The fire burps and pops as I throw on another log and some coal. Leaning back in my chair, I pick up the book I was reading, but my thoughts are far away, scattered and torn between the lurking shadow and mindless inner ramblings. Friends and family had begged me not to move away, but being a writer meant a freedom to choose where and how I lived...and to be frank, I fucking hated the cities and the people who lived there. So when a broken-down house on the small island of Skye popped up on Rightmove, I snapped it up for a steal, and moved my ass to the middle of nowhere.

Motion from the window catches my attention, breaking my train of thought. My gaze follows the floating ember of my shadow's cigarette. He's moving, heading towards the front door. My body tenses, heart-beat thrumming in my chest as he disappears from sight. I barely breathe, listening for any noise -- a soft click of my lock being picked, a breaking window, anything to suggest my shadow has finally dared come inside.

Nothing.

I slowly rise from my chair and head for the door, wiggling the handle to triple-check I've locked it. I peer through the peep-hole, but only darkness smiles back. Perhaps he's gone? I shake my head, ignoring the way my pussy tightens at the thought, at the tiny hope he may have snuck inside.

"Jesus Christ, Riley...get a grip," I growl to myself. Only I would feel disappointed a stalker had chickened out.

The front door bangs, three knocks one after the other.

I stare at the door, a deer caught in the headlights. He's still here. I go to step forward, and again, three knocks vibrate throughout the entryway. Perhaps it's just how old my door is, perhaps it's just a paranoid symptom of the situation, but whoever is lurking outside sounds really pissed off.

"Who are you!?" I yell. "If you don't leave I'm calling the police." A cynical laugh nearly escapes my lips. The police would take at least an hour to get here, especially on a snowy night like tonight. Steeling myself, I storm towards the door and press an ear against the hard wood. My blood runs cold when I hear the heavy breathing and deep chuckle on the other side.

Nope. Fuck this. I refuse to be that dumb bitch who gets herself killed. "I have a weapon," I say, the threat clear and true. Picking up my air rifle, I snap the barrel to check its loaded then turn my back to the door, heading towards the main room and my only source of heat in this damn house.

Beneath the sound of crackling flames, I hear the crunch of snow as my shadow returns to the window. He moves close, close enough for his breath to fog the glass, but still concealed beneath the hood of his heavy coat. He's fucking huge, at least 6"2, well taller than my average 5"7. He raises his hand and I step back, thinking he's going to try and break the glass, but something hangs from the tips of his fingers...something red, and lacy.

"You fucker," I growl, seeing yesterday's thong pinched between his digits. His shoulders bob up and down and I know he's laughing, then he tucks my panties in his pocket, turns, and disappears into the darkness. I clench my fists and slump back down in my reading chair, letting the rifle rest over my thighs. He'll come back tomorrow. And when he does, I'm going to surprise him. Next time, I'll open the fucking door.

To be continued...

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Copyright © Bella Savage 2024

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This is a work of fiction. All characters in this publication are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental.

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