Chapter Four:The Devil Is Watching
835 Words
Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, but Tessa woke with a strange feeling in her chest.
She frowned.
The same scent.
The same masculine fragrance that had filled her apartment the previous evening still lingered faintly in the air.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She slowly sat up and looked around her bedroom.
Everything seemed normal…
Until her eyes landed on the bedside table.
A single red rose rested there.
“…What?”
Tessa’s breathing became uneven.
She definitely hadn’t left it there.
She quickly looked toward the window.
It was slightly open.
The curtains swayed gently with the morning breeze.
Then she noticed something else.
A large muddy boot print stained the floor beneath the window.
Her face drained of color.
“What the hell…?”
“Someone was here… again?”
She instinctively stepped backward.
“No…”
“This can’t be happening.”
Before she could gather her thoughts, voices echoed from outside.
People were shouting.
Curious, Tessa hurried to the front door.
Police cars.
Yellow crime-scene tape.
A small crowd had gathered across the hallway.
Keeping her distance, she tried to see what had happened.
Then she saw it.
A body.
Covered in blood.
Near the victim was the same strange symbol reported on the news.
And beside it…
A muddy boot print.
Exactly like the one inside her apartment.
Her pulse pounded.
Trying not to attract attention, she discreetly photographed the print with her phone.
She had barely turned around when a voice stopped her.
“Miss.”
A police officer approached.
“Do you live here?”
Tessa forced herself to stay calm.
“Yes. My apartment is right across the hall.”
“Did you notice anything unusual last night?”
She hesitated.
“I… went to bed early. I didn’t hear anything.”
The officer studied her for a moment.
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes.”
“Please be careful. Until we catch whoever did this, everyone in this building should stay alert.”
“I will.”
She returned to her apartment, locked the door, and rushed into her bedroom.
With trembling hands, she compared the photo she had taken outside with the boot print beneath her window.
They matched.
Her stomach dropped.
“…He was here.”
The words barely escaped her lips.
Before she could process the thought, her phone rang.
Unknown Number.
She stared at the screen.
After several seconds…
She answered.
“Hello…?”
Silence.
Then a deep male voice spoke calmly.
“Don’t make the mistake of telling the police.”
Tessa froze.
“…Who are you?”
A quiet laugh echoed through the phone.
“You won’t have to wait much longer.”
The line went dead.
She immediately called back.
Number unavailable.
Her hands shook.
Should she tell the police?
Would they believe her?
Or would they think she was somehow connected to the murders?
She looked at the red rose on her desk.
“No…”
“I need to know who you are.”
⸻
A few hours later, needing fresh air, Tessa decided to leave the apartment.
She locked every window before heading out.
After a brief hesitation in front of her wardrobe, she smiled to herself.
“I’m not letting fear decide how I live.”
She pulled on a black crop top she’d never had the courage to wear before, paired it with blue jeans, tied her hair into a messy bun, and finished with light makeup.
Looking in the mirror, she smiled faintly.
“Not bad.”
For the first time that day, she felt almost normal.
She skipped grocery shopping for the moment and walked instead to her favorite café.
Ordering a latte, she settled into her usual seat and opened her book.
For a little while…
Everything felt peaceful.
Then a waiter approached.
“Excuse me, miss.”
“Yes?”
“Are you Tessa Perez?”
She looked up, surprised.
“…Yes.”
He smiled politely and handed her a bouquet wrapped in black paper.
“This was left for you.”
“My… for me?”
“He specifically asked me to give it to a woman wearing a black top named Tessa Perez.”
A chill ran through her body.
“Is he still here?”
The waiter shook his head.
“He left a few minutes ago.”
“What did he look like?”
“I’m sorry… he was wearing a mask.”
Slowly, Tessa look at the bouquet.
Inside was a folded note.
And beneath it…
A freshly printed photograph.
Her breath caught.
It was a picture of her.
Sitting in this very café.
Reading the same book.
Wearing the same clothes.
The photo had been taken only minutes ago.
Someone had been watching her…
The note contained only one sentence.
“Black looks beautiful on you.”
Tessa’s hands began to tremble.
She looked up.
Every stranger in the café suddenly felt like a suspect.
And somewhere…
Someone was still watching.
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