Page 181 of Trick or Stalk

The bookstore feels different. Too empty and quiet.

I pass the counter. Nothing seems disturbed.

Then I spot it.

A book lies face down in the middle of one of the aisles.

My stomach tightens.

“Lovely.” I stare at it. “This is how women die in horror movies.”

The book remains unimpressed.

I glance toward the front of the store.

Still empty.

“Margaret is going to blame me if someone steps on you.”

I walk down the aisle and crouch. My fingers close around the book.

I straighten, turn...

And scream.

He's standing by the front door in his signature black hoodie and jeans.

He stares at me from behind the bone-white mask. The black hollows around his eyes make them impossible to see from here, but I can feel his gaze slicing through me.

Every muscle in my body locks.

For one insane second, one thought crashes through the terror.

There you are.

Then my survival instincts finally show up for work.

I run.

My shoes slam against the wooden floor as I race toward the staff room.

His footsteps thud behind me, steady and even.

I don't look back.

I reach the end of the aisle and turn.

He's there.

I skid to a stop. “What the fuck?”

He doesn't move.

My lungs heave as the realization washes over me. He's blocking the hallway that leads to the staff room and the bathroom.

My pulse pounds so violently I can feel it in my throat.

“Who the hell are you?”