devil

part six

That next morning, Camila fakes a cough and calls in sick for work.

She's can't stop watching the news, or refreshing news pages with articles in hopes that there is new information about the man who attacked her and his disappearance.

She knows it probably makes her a terrible person, but maybe she can't help and think that what happened to him is what he deserved and had coming.

She knows she shouldn't think that way about another human being, but she also remembers the way he treated her and wonders what would've happened if she hadn't escape.

She knows it wouldn't have turned out civil.

Maybe, just maybe, that person with the green eyes was an angel watching over her.

-

That green eyed "angel," is fuming.

Lauren absolutely detests when things don't go according to plan.

She stares down at her swollen and bruised knuckles angrily, in the back of her mind knowing that perhaps she had been too brutal and not enough careful.

That's how amateurs always end up being caught, she reminds herself.

They're too reckless and don't weigh out the risk and think impulsively.

But seeing that idiot on Camila last night lit a fire she hadn't ever felt before and Lauren knew she had to take him out of the equation because he was fucking everything up for her.

And he really did fuck everything up because as she sat parked outside of Camila's apartment, she could see that she had called off work.

Which probably meant she wouldn't go to the cafe later at night which meant, she was going to start breaking away from her usual schedule.

There was the high possibility that Camila would start being watched by the police if she decided to report the incident she had. So if Camila disappeared so suddenly... Fuck.

That would mean that Camila would no longer be able to be her target and Lauren couldn't deal with that shit, not now.

Not after all this waiting.

Lauren's chance had slipped right through her fingers, but she can't accept that just yet.

She's never been one to give up what she wants.

Time was running out. She had to think of something, fast.

-

It's around five in the afternoon when Camila hears a knock on the door.

She's barely begun to change into black tights and a burgundy windbreaker so she can go on a run to clear her mind and it takes her by surprise.

She wonders who it is because she never has company over and looking out of the window, all she can see is the sky that's begun to darken and turn grey as it rains.

She opens the door a slight inch to see who's there, but sees nothing except the vacant hallway.

Strange.

Closing the door, she's halfway across the apartment on the way to her bedroom when she hears another knock at the door.

This time she feels her heart begin to race at the thought that someone was playing a game with her.

Something in her mind tells her not to open the door, tells her to listen to the signs of danger.

But she doesn't listen and so Camila goes back, trying to ignore the negative thoughts running through her head.

She opens the door a slight inch more.

Again, nobody is presented... But this time, she can see a piece of paper on the ground that wasn't there before.

Opening the door wider, she checks both sides of the hallway before stepping out after noticing that it's safe to do so.

Picking up the piece of paper, her eyebrows wrinkle in confusion at the message written clearly on the note with perfect neat handwriting.

I see you.

Camila's pulse seems to have gone through the roof and her breathing quickens. She knows that message is directed exactly at her.

She quickly crumbles the piece of paper into a small ball and sticks it in her windbreaker's pocket so she can throw it away in her garbage can.

But as she steps back, she finds her apartment door closed and locked.

"Didn't I leave the door open?" Camila whispers to herself quietly.

She shakes off the thought, thinking she's being paranoid again and fishes her keys out of the same pocket of her windbreaker, thankful she always carries her necessities around.

Right as Camila sticks her key inside the locked door knob to open the apartment, she feels the presence and heat of someone standing behind her.

She catches the sweet and sultry scent of perfume and she turns to see who it is, but before her eyes can see anything, she feels a hand on the back of her neck.

Something wet meets her face and her eyes start to slowly close at the distinct smell of chloroform coming from the piece of cloth that covers her nose and mouth before she can scream.

The last thing Camila remembers, is the slender fingers that wrap around her head and slam her face against the door.