Page 182 of Trick or Stalk

Why am I asking that?

His head tilts.

“What do you want from me?”

He remains silent.

I spin and run in the other direction.

The front door is ahead.

I can get outside. There are people everywhere.

I race between the shelves—and stop.

He's there again, standing between me and the door.

My breath catches.

How the hell did he⁠—

My thoughts cut off as he steps closer.

“You're not fucking funny.”

His head tilts again.

“Oh my God. I hate when you do that.”

I back away.

He takes another step forward.

My gaze darts around the store.

He’s blocking the front door. The staff room is too far away.

Upstairs it is.

Even though I’ve only been up there once, maybe there’s another way out.

I turn and bolt for the staircase.

Behind me, his boots hit the floor.

I take the stairs two at a time. My hand grips the railing as I nearly stumble.

I reach the landing and look back.

He's halfway up the stairs.

His pace is steady and constant, one heavy step at a time. Like he already knows how this ends.

My stomach drops. “You fucking asshole.”

His head tilts.

Even from here, I swear he's smiling beneath that mask.