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The faint smell of roses mixed with shit filling my nostrils.
“Prof- Professor Valentine! What are you- Oh no…” He tries to exclaim, trailing off once it's clear just how bad a fright he's had.
“Niles…” I growl. Knowing in a second that he’s not the one who’s been stalking Violet. The big bunch of gas station flowers, the card in a heart shaped envelope he’s still clutching.
It’s a scene of perfect innocence really. A kid with a crush who's probably only just today got up the courage to maybe tell the girl he likes just how he feels.
It’s wholesome. Natural. Should be something I'd usually think there should be a little bit more of in the world.
But Niles here. He's picked the wrong girl. My girl isn’t for anyone else. Not even for the asking.
“The fuck are you doing here?” I snarl, needing to hear it from his own mouth before I his mouth swells up from the beating I still feel the need to give him.
Anyone, even a do-good straight A student like Niles here is off limits from Violet.
“I- I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, reddening and then wincing. Looking like he's about to die from embarrassment more than anything else.
I flare my nostrils, taking in a short sniff.
“Did you-? Have you-?” I ask. Feeling my grip loosen on him when he nods.
“I- I just came by to leave this at Violet’s door… I- I gotta go-” he says quickly. And from the smell coming from his pants I can't help thinking that's for the best.
“If you see her, Violet… Could you give her these?” He croaks, his lip trembling as he pushes his glasses higher up his nose.
I should break his nose. Let him know who Violet belongs to now. But knowing Niles had no harm intended for Violet, knowing that the real stalker is still out there, it wouldn’t be wise to waste any ore time. So I reluctantly agree.
Snatching the card and flowers before breathing some fresher air once he waddles around the edge of the building out of sight. And about to have a much longer feeling walk than the one he took here, I’m sure.
I’m just about to try and laugh it off when I hear a muffled scream.
It’s Violet.
While I’ve been grabbing Niles, my real target has already duped me. Knowing my vantage point as well as my way into the building no less. Something I realize when I can't open the newly locked doors at the building’s entrance.
Sprinting around to the rear, I scale the fire escape in record time, reaching Violet’s own window and throwing all of my weight forward once I see her inside.
The familiar figure of a man grappling with her, something shining in his hand as he holds it above her.
Jesus, Violet!
She screams again as I hear the glass and woodwork splintering around me. The stinging cut from a stray shard doing nothing to slow me down.
It’s not a knife he's got, it's a syringe.
The kind a doctor might have easy access to.
Or a psychiatrist.
I kinda knew it was him, just didn’t want to admit it to myself. There’s so much from my past I don't remember. But even in my darkest dreams as well as in my waking life. Dean Reinhold’s always there.
“You won’t have her!” He shrieks, his face ashen. His eyes wild with an expression that makes my own obsession for Violet look almost tame by comparison.
“She’s mine! Mine!” He yells, lifting the syringe higher, primed to strike. His face twisted into a maniacal spasm that knows this’ll be his last act on earth. Fueled by the desperation of a man who knows he could never have what he wants.
Taking him down is easy.
Hearing any man say to my face that Violet belongs to them is like begging me to knock them out, which I do. Twisting his arm behind his back, making sure to inject him with whatever he was about to put into her for good measure.
