Obsess

Chapter 2 - The Name In The Dark

I didn't sleep that night.

Not really.I closed my bedroom door, pushed a chair beneath the handle like that would somehow stop someone who had already walked into my locked apartment, and sat awake beneath the glow of my bedside lamp.Every few minutes, I looked toward the hallway.

Waiting.Listening.Hoping I wouldhear something.Anything.A creaking floorboard.A whisper.

A sign that I wasn't completely alone.

But the apartment stayed silent.

That was somehow worse.

At three in the morning, I finally convinced myself I had to be losing my mind.

Maybe I had brought the rose inside without remembering.Maybe the message was a coincidence.Maybe the man under the streetlamp had nothing to do with me.There were explanations.There had to be.

Because the alternative was impossible.

Someone was watching me.Someone knew my habits.

Someone had been inside my home.

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to breathe Tomorrow, I would call someone.

The police.

A friend.

Anyone.

I wasn't going to ignore this anymore.

Morning arrived too quickly.

My alarm went off at seven, and for a moment, I forgot everything.

Then I saw it.

The rose.

It was still sitting on my kitchen table.

I stood frozen in the doorway.

A small detail caught my attention.The flower looked different.The petals were no longer closed.

They had opened overnight.Like it had been waiting.Waiting for me to notice.I grabbed my phone and took a picture.Evidence.I needed evidence.

Because a part of me was terrified that if I looked away long enough, I would convince myself it never happened.

Before leaving, I checked every lock.

Twice.

Then three times.

The entire walk to my car, I felt exposed.

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Like the world had suddenly become a stage, and I was the only person who didn't know my lines.I scanned the parking lot.Empty.

I checked the windows of nearby buildings.

Nothing.But the feeling remained.

Someone was there.Somewhere.

Watching.Work was unbearable.

I made mistakes I never usually made.

I spilled coffee across important documents.

I reread the same email five times without understanding a single word.

My coworkers asked if I was okay.I lied.

"I'm just tired."

It was easier than explaining that I felt like a stranger had somehow entered my life without ever introducing himself.At lunch, I sat alone near the office window.

Rain slid down the glass, blurring the city outside.

And then I saw him.Across the street.

Standing beside a bookstore.The same black hood.The same stillness.

My breath caught.I stood so quickly my chair scraped against the floor.The man didn't move.He just watched.

My heart pounded.I grabbed my coat and rushed outside.

"Hey!"

People turned to look at me.The man didn't.I crossed the street, ignoring the cold rain soaking through my clothes.

But when I reached the bookstore entrance...He was gone.Again.

I looked left.Nothing.Right.Nothing.

Only crowds of strangers walking past me.

Then I noticed something on the ground.A small piece of paper.

Folded neatly.My hands shook as I picked it up.There was only one sentence written inside.Stop looking for me.My stomach dropped.Because underneath that sentence was another.You won't like what you find.

I went home early.I didn't care about work.I didn't care about explanations.I needed answers.

The first thing I did was search my apartment.Every drawer.Every cupboard.Every corner.Nothing.No hidden cameras.No signs of entry.

No clue.

Until I reached my bedroom.My closet door was slightly open.I stopped.

I knew I had closed it that morning.

Slowly, I walked toward it.

My hand hovered over the handle.

Every instinct screamed at me not to open it.

But curiosity was stronger than fear.I pulled.Inside, hanging between my clothes, was a black envelope.

My name was written across the front.

Not printed.Handwritten.

I stared at it for a long time.Then I opened it.Inside was a photograph.

A photograph of me.Sitting in the café.

From yesterday.I was looking down at my laptop.Completely unaware.

On the back of the picture were four words.

I've waited years.My hands began to tremble.Years?What did that mean?

I flipped the photograph over again.

There was something else written beneath the message.A name.

A name I didn't recognize.Adrian Vale.

Across the city, Adrian watched the rain fall against the window of his apartment.

The photograph of her was missing from his collection.

Good.

That meant she had found it.

He had wondered how long it would take.She was more observant than he expected.More stubborn too.

Exactly like she used to be.

He picked up an old photograph from his desk.One that was faded around the edges.One he had looked at thousands of times.

Two children stood in the picture.

A young boy with a serious expression.And a little girl smiling beside him.The girl who grew up and forgot.

The girl who had no idea that their lives had crossed long before the café.

Before the roses.Before the messages.

Before the shadows.He traced a finger over the photograph

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"You're finally remembering," he whispered.Outside, thunder rolled across the sky.And somewhere far away, she stared at his name written on a piece of paper.Not knowing that the stranger watching her wasn't a stranger at all.Not knowing that the past she had buried was beginning to wake up.And not knowing that Adrian Vale had never wanted to hurt her.

He wanted to protect her.From something much worse.Something that was coming.Something that had been watching them both.