"Obsession in blood"

No Way Out

Kristen woke early that morning with a strange restlessness sitting heavy in her chest. The sun was only beginning to rise, golden light filtering through the curtains, but her nerves already prickled like something unseen waited outside her door. She dressed quietly, pulling on her faded jeans and the soft cream sweater that still smelled faintly of detergent, not perfume—she didn’t like drawing attention. Not anymore.

She lingered in front of the mirror longer than usual, smoothing her hair back into a ponytail. There was no reason to feel uneasy, she told herself. She was just going to class, just another ordinary day. But as she adjusted the strap of her bag across her shoulder, the memory of Williams’ eyes from the night before flashed unbidden in her mind. The way they seemed to follow her even when she wasn’t looking.

Kristen shook her head, forcing a smile when she walked into the kitchen. Toki was there with the kids, already fussing over toast and milk.

“Heading out early?” Toki asked, balancing a spoon in her hand while baby Tim tugged at her shirt.

“Yeah,” Kristen said softly, slipping her notebook into the bag. “I’ll catch the bus today. Should be easier than asking for rides.”

“Good idea,” Toki nodded absentmindedly, too occupied with wiping spilled milk off the counter.

Kristen leaned down, kissing each of the kids on the forehead. She lingered a moment longer with Timmy, who giggled and tugged at her sleeve. Something about his innocence—so untouched by the darkness she felt around her—made her throat tighten.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Kristen promised, waving as she stepped out the door.

The cool morning air should have refreshed her. Instead, it felt sharp, biting. She hugged her notebook to her chest as she walked down the street toward the bus stop. Every step felt watched, though the road was quiet, the neighborhood still drowsy with sleep.

When the bus finally pulled into view, relief bloomed in her chest. She stepped forward, waiting as the driver opened the door—only for him to lean out and shake his head.

“Sorry, miss. Route’s canceled today. Mechanical issue with the vehicle.”

Her stomach dropped. “Canceled? But… this bus always runs.”

“Not today,” the driver said simply, shutting the door before pulling away.

Kristen stood frozen for a moment, her pulse racing. Just bad luck, she tried to reason. Things broke down all the time. But as she turned back toward the road, her breath caught in her throat.

There, parked neatly near the stop, was Williams’ car.

The window rolled down with a smooth hum, and his face appeared—calm, composed, smiling as though he had been expecting this exact moment.

“Need a lift, Kristy?” His voice carried warmth, almost playful, like a friendly neighbor offering help.

Her chest tightened painfully. She forced a hesitant smile. “Williams, you didn’t have to—”

“I insist.” His tone hardened slightly, though the smile never faded. “Come on, or you’ll be late.”

For a fleeting second, Kristen considered refusing. She could walk. She could call a taxi. But her phone battery had been low, and besides—Williams’ eyes were fixed on her with quiet insistence. The kind of look that told her there was no real choice.

Her body moved before her mind caught up. She slid into the passenger seat, clutching her notebook tightly to her lap.

The ride felt wrong from the very beginning. The doors locked automatically with a soft click that seemed louder in the silence. Williams’ hands rested easily on the steering wheel, but his fingers tapped out a rhythm only he seemed to know. Kristen kept her eyes on the road, her chest rising and falling too quickly.

He broke the silence first. “You know, you should really stop going out alone.”

Kristen blinked, turning to look at him cautiously. “Excuse me?”

“It worries me,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. “The world is not safe for someone like you.”

She frowned, shifting in her seat. “I can take care of myself.”

Williams chuckled, a low sound that made her stomach clench. “That’s what you think. But I’ve seen the way men look at you.” His eyes slid toward her briefly, lingering longer than necessary before returning to the road. “Beautiful things attract danger, Kristy.”

That word again. Kristy. Nobody else called her that. Nobody else dared. Hearing it on his lips felt like a lock snapping shut around her.

Her throat was dry. She looked back out the window, forcing herself to breathe evenly until the car pulled up outside the campus. He leaned slightly toward her as she reached for the door handle.

“I’ll be here when you’re done,” he said casually.

Kristen froze. “What?”

He smiled, tapping the wheel again. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait. It’s no trouble.”

Her skin prickled with unease, but she managed a stiff nod before hurrying out of the car.

---

Classes felt like a blur. Kristen sat through lectures without absorbing a single word, her pen tapping anxiously against the page. Every time she looked toward the window, she half-expected to see the black car waiting outside.

When she emerged hours later, exhaustion dragging at her shoulders, her worst fear came true.

The bus, once again, was delayed. Students stood around muttering, checking their phones, but no vehicle appeared on the horizon.

And there he was.

Williams leaned against his car across the street, arms folded, posture relaxed. He looked for all the world like a man waiting patiently for a friend. When his eyes found hers, his lips curved into that same practiced smile.

“Over here, Kristy.”

Her pulse quickened. She considered pretending she hadn’t seen him, walking in the opposite direction. But then he lifted his hand slightly, the smile never faltering, as though daring her to try.

Day after day, it kept happening.

One morning, her bicycle chain snapped just as she reached the corner. Another, the taxi apps on her phone refused to work, error messages flashing each time she tried to book a ride. Always, without fail, Williams appeared. Always offering her a ride. Always there, like the universe bent to his schedule.

Toki thought he was being sweet. She laughed, calling it “neighborly kindness,” teasing Kristen for being so stubborn. Kristen didn’t have the heart to argue—not when she herself couldn’t prove the patterns weren’t coincidence. But deep inside, a pit of dread grew larger with each passing day.

---

It was late one evening when the unease became unbearable. Kristen returned to the apartment after staying late in the library, the hallways dim and echoing. She fumbled with her keys, the silence pressing in on her. That was when she heard it.

Footsteps. Soft. Deliberate.

Her body stiffened. Slowly, she turned her head, scanning the corridor. Empty. The air was still, too still, as though holding its breath. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to unlock the door quickly and slip inside.

Relief washed over her—briefly.

Because when she entered the living room, the curtains shifted slightly, as though someone had just brushed past them. Her heart slammed against her ribs. She moved closer, tugging the fabric back with trembling hands.

The window was closed. Locked.

Yet outside, across the street, a faint orange glow pierced the darkness. A cigarette, burning softly in the night.

And though she couldn’t see his face clearly, she knew.

Williams was out there. Watching. Waiting.

Her knees weakened as she let the curtain fall back into place. She pressed her hands over her mouth, willing herself not to scream.

There was no way out.

Not anymore.

---

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