Death's Obsession

Chapter 1

Lilith

You look beautiful when you sleep.

I read the note again, over and over. I'm not crazy. The letter is real.

The Harsh glow of the moonlight only just makes the words more visible. I have to hold the thick brown parchment with both hands to stop it from curling back together. Each swirl of black ink is another coil that winds tighter around me stomach. The letters taper each end, as if it was written with a fountain pen.

He was here again. He was watching me sleep.

I wrote the note in my sleep, I tell myself, Just like Dr. Mallory told me to.

It doesn't matter how many times I say it or scream it into my pillow or write it down, I don't believe my own words. The letters are real. I know they are, even though no one else believes me.

I told Dr. Mallory about the man who visited me on the day of the accident, face hidden under the shadows of his hood. Then the gifts started appearing. Then the letters. Then came the symbols. All from him. The Faceless Man.

I tried showing Dr. Mallory that the letters are real, that I'm not hallucinating like she claims. In fact, I tried to prove to everyone that someone was watching me and leaving me letters. No one believed me-they think it's just the ramblings of a woman gone mad. If take pictures of the letters, only for them to disappear from my phone. Everytime I put the letters in my bag, they become lost to the void, only to appear back in my bedroom with a note that says:

It's our little secret.

I'm not crazy. I'm not.

The gifts he leaves are real. So are the symbols he draws on my body.

"You bought yourself flowers, Lili, you just forgot about it," Dr. Mallory said, even though I've never been a fond of flowers. When I told her about the symbols, she explained, "You must have been sleep walking and drew them on yourself."

I thought she was right, because a man never visited me when I stayed with Evan, either at his place or mine. I used to wake up in the morning or in the dead night with Evan by my side, and my body would be free from marks the Faceless Man would leave. There would be no letters left on my pillow or on my bedside table. No flower atop my chest or my dresser. I'd be free from nightmares of the Faceless Man, If only for a night. Although, I'm not sure if he is a nightmare or the sweetest of dreams.

Evan was my shield against the Faceless Man.

Until my stalker stopped caring about Evan's presence.

Evan's snore is the only sound to be in the small space of my room.

It's too early for the dog upstairs to start barking or for the kids downstairs to start watching their shows before school. All the neighbors say that, at night, I'm the only sound in the complex, wailing or whimpering when the night terrors hit. Evan says I don't always have nightmares; sometimes I just talk in my sleep, but I don't always remember what the dreams are about. The only dreams I do remember are of the accident, and that's when the screaming starts.

That's why Evan prefers that we live separately, because he needs to 'stay sharp' for his job. He says he can't do that if I wake him from his sleep with my 'ramblings'.