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I’m a ghost.
But with Rayvn…I’ve become something else entirely. For starters, I’m now officially a stalker, apparently. My social skills have always been shit, but this is a new level of weirdness, even for me. No matter how shitty my life has been at times, I never resorted to this kind of insanity, and honestly, I’m not sure what to do about it.
After a life of pain and suffering, have I finally cracked? Is this what it feels like to lose yourself?
I never had friends growing up. Par for the course of being a poor kid with no family and a massive stutter. I was the laughing stock of the playground, and the only reason my adolescence got incrementally better is that I tested out of all my subjects and graduated early. I may not have spoken well, but I made up for it with borderline genius tendencies. I spent all my time in my room coding, gaming, reading, and learning. By 13, I could rebuild computers from scratch. By 16, I could program complex gaming systems and was getting paid for online gigs in the cyber world. By 18, my hacking programs were created and turned into a well-oiled and profitable machine. Out of desperation, I upped my game, and took on high paying clients, needing every cent I could make.
I was the scrawny kid, the one whose junky parents were too high to realize they had a baby until they needed more drugs. One day, they were so high they tried to sell me on the streets. Luckily, a cop intercepted their shady shit. He saved me, arrested them, and a week later I wound up with an incredible woman who raised me like her own. A woman that I owe every fucking thing to.
She saved me, then saved me again and again. Every time life got too hard, every time my world got too dark, she was there. And when it came time to save her in return, I couldn’t. I was too young, too weak, too poor, and insignificant. I made a vow to never be that helpless kid again, and despite my current bout with insanity, that promise hasn’t disappeared.I have to focus on my job.
Yet, here I am once again, standing outside the window of Rayvn’s quaint suburban apartment. The carport and few trees littering the parking lot are shit for cover, but the area is so vacant, no one ever notices me, including my Little Fox. I’ve been here countless times since I began my recon, too many to count, and it’s always the same.Empty.
Something about that irritates me. She shouldn’t be living in such a shitty place as a young, single woman. Fuck. She shouldn’t be single.
Get it together, Nash. You’re losing it.
At first, I started following her because I was studying her habits. Where she goes—work, the apartment gym, the grocery store on Third. How many visitors she has—none.Who her friends are—Shiloh in Blue River, Addison at the law firm…and that’s it. Travel—none.Hobbies—gym, binging reality tv and horror flicks, especially the classics, some sort of needle-art thing, running, running some more, cooking, working…the list of solitary, quiet activities goes on but are there any true hobbies in there? Doubtful.
Her only living family member is her father, and though she gives him most of her money, I’ve yet to see her visit the man. I track her phone and he calls her regularly. She answers almost every time, but without fail, keeps the calls under two minutes.
Over the months that I’ve observed her from a distance, I’ve found myself growing more and more…attached.I’m drawn to every aspect of her being, and now that we’re communicating it’s only gotten worse. Something about Rayvn calls to me. She’s like a dark force in the night, moving silently through the world. Even when you can’t see her coming, you canfeelher power.
When she’s around people, she’s a force to be reckoned with. She’s commanding and captivating. She grabs your attention the moment she enters a room but when she’s alone, like now, she’s quiet and reserved. Solitude suits her. She flourishes when she’s alone. It’s as though it’s the only time she gives herself permission toexist, which is something I am all too familiar with.
As I stare in her window, watching her simply just be—I find myself enthralled. It’s as though she’s Michelangelo, and I’ve been granted the gift of watching the Sistine Chapel come to life. My Little Fox is curled up on her pink couch, nibbling away at a bag of pretzels as she works on some sort of art project on her lap.We’re both artists. Another thing we have in common.
The thought has my fingers twitching with the need to access my paints. I’d love to sit for days on end, devouring her naked flesh. Feasting upon her beauty with my eyes, while I try time and time again to capture her grace on my canvas. It would be impossible. It would take days on end, and I have no doubt she’d fight me every step of the way, hiding her body from me in a shitty attempt at modesty. I’d have to tie her up. Chain her to the bed. Hands and feet bound so she’d have no choice but to submit for me and my paintbrush.
Fuck. She’d make a stunning canvas. I could paint her dark skin in my cum and blood, claiming her in the most primal of ways. I’d take my time, too. Draw it out until she was thrashing and crying with need. Until she was sobbing, trembling, from how badly she needed to get off. My already aching cock pulses at the thought, and I barely stop myself from pulling the painful appendage out and fucking my fist to the sight of her.
Rayvn stands from her couch, a small smile gracing her gorgeous face as something on the tv catches her eye. Her gaze never leaves the movie, even as she slides her curtains shut, obstructing my view and pissing me off.
My Little Fox lives on the bottom floor of a middle-class apartment complex, which I find both annoying and appealing. Annoying because anyone could easily break into her home and harm her before she even realizes what’s happening. Appealing because that’s exactly what I’m going to do…when I can finally touch her.
October 1st.That’s only 19 days away. I can wait. Maybe.
Earn her trust.
My fists clench, and it’s not until I hear the crack of metal and plastic that I remember my phone in my hand. Sighing, I lean against the car next to me and open my emails to kill time. I haven’t been home in a week, and I desperately need to get back, but every time I get on my bike something inside of me spasms and thrashes violently. It’s like a macabre rendition of an old slasher film where the villain hacks away brutally at the poor victim’s guts until nothing remains but a bloody mess.
That’s what leaving Rayvn feels like. That’s why I’ve stayed. I tell myself it’s because the discomfort isn’t conducive to a healthy work environment. Then I tell myself I’m a fucking liar.
Over a hundred new requests have popped up for hacking gigs on both my public site and the higher-end dark web form. My stomach drops to my feet in an instant as reality comes crashing back in with all the force of a Mack truck. For the first time in a decade, I don’t want to go back to my basic reclusive existence. Back to my fancy office in the guest house behind my too-large home. Back to the quiet desolation. Back to the memories and constant chasm of pain that awaits me.
I don’t want to take on another menial job for a moderate payday, nor do I want to take on the more explicit, well-paying jobs that guarantee my goals will be fulfilled sooner rather than later. For the first time….ever, I want more.
Looking up, I stare at the grey blackout curtains that prevent me from seeing the object of my obsession, and I realize with startling clarity that what I want. What’s keeping me from my depressing existence, is her. Not because I was hired to ruin her. Not under the guise of this being some work project. Not because I want…no,need,the paycheck her demise will deliver. But because I just flat out wanther.
My Little Fox.
Fuck. I need to see her, hear her voice. Touch her. Wrap my body around hers. Shackle her to me.Keep her. Claim her. Own her.
Well, shit. That accelerated quickly.
I’ve yet to decide how to handle any of this. My mind is in a constant battle with the rest of me. I want to pursue her in the darkest of ways, but more than that, I justwanther. Could this ever go beyond sex and depravity? Does she even want more than that? Do I?
As a nerdy recluse, my life has been lackluster, to say the least. I’ve never been in a relationship. Never even fucked a woman, so it’s safe to say I’ve never done a single one of the things Rayvn’s requested. But I’ll do them because that’s what she needs, and I’m finding it’s impossible for me to deny her anything.
