My angel hates it here.
She’s shifting in her seat, uncomfortable.
He doesn’t even notice. He doesn’t care about her. Not like I do.
This man only knows the put together Emily he sees at work. He doesn’t knowmyEmily. My Emily would want to go somewhere that doesn’t require her to dress up, somewhere she doesn’t feel like she has to fake a polished smile. She wants to eat more than the tiny portions this place is serving up. Whenhe ordered for her, I almost snapped his neck then and there.
Finally, the dinner ends and they stand. He offers his arm, which she takes, and I vow for that to be the first thing I remove from his body.
I follow them on the short walk back to her flat, keeping hidden in the shadows.
She doesn’t invite him in.Good girl.
I’m almost sad I won’t get to punish her.
Thomas Moore has a disappointed glint in his eyes as he leaves her doorstep, walking into the night without a care in the world.
As soon as I got home from my therapy session, I did my homework on him. He’s married. Bet she doesn’t know that.
Naughty Tom.
I’m doing everyone a favour really.
I hop in my car, getting to his house before he does.
His wife is out of town, and the kids are away at university.
It’s just me and him now.
While I wait for the lights to go out, I pull open my surveillance app.
There she is.
My Emily.
She's already tucked up in bed; her breath even and slow. Good. She's safe.
The house darkens, and I force myself to close the app, leaving it just a little longer to ensure he's really asleep before exiting the car.
My mask is in place.
Smooth, featureless, matte white.
I designed it to resemble a mannequin’s face—expressionless, inhuman, and unnervingly still. No mouth, no nose, just shallow contours where features should be. A blank canvas. Breathable, fitted to the shape of my skull. The eye sockets are hollowed just enough for me to see out, but to anyone else, they’re nothing but dark voids.
You could stare right at me and still have no idea who I am. No soul. No intent.
Just absence.
It’s perfect.
When I wear it, I don’t exist.
Only the watching does.
I move stealthily, picking the backdoor lock with ease and slipping inside.
Silence greets me. There’s nothing but the sound of my own breathing and my heart thudding in my chest.