Prompt Challenge 3-2: The Watcher

May Prompt Challenge

Wait…is it Wednesday again? Why yes, yes it is. I have another story for you! Aren’t you proud of me for keeping these going? Because I sure am proud of me.

Anyways, moving on to this weeks short story!



The sun was starting to set again. At least, it was getting darker. The sky had been crying all day and the sun didn’t make a big appearance, but it was getting harder to see her though the window. She sat there, drinking another cup of coffee…at least I think it’s coffee. She could be one of those classy girls, drinking hot tea. Though, I noted the shake in her hands, so I’m sticking with coffee.

She hadn’t even changed out of her bathrobe today, and those bunny slippers were falling apart. I had only seen them for a few minutes when she had leaned back in the chair, putting her feet on the table. Then she knocked over her cup of coffee and had to clean it up, opting to rest her feet on another chair, instead of the table. I didn’t count that cup of coffee. She didn’t even get a sip of it.

I can see the worry filling her eyes again, but it only last for so long, and it only comes when the sun starts to set. In a few minutes, she will stop caring again. I heard her sigh once, when I was closer to the window. “I don’t care.” Is what she said. Since that night, I had watched her mouth those words at the same time every night. I don’t even think she has taken a bath in a week, the woman must reek by now.

Her name is Summer, at least that is what I call her. She reminds me of summer days when I was a child, back when I was happy. She used to be bright, full of life, full of color. Now, she is a little dull and worn down, but I guess I am to blame for that. She knows I am watching her. It’s all I do is watch her. It might be why she only drinks coffee now. I leave her gifts every day. At first she loved them and would tell her co-workers about her secret admirer. I miss those days.

She doesn’t even go to work anymore. She is afraid to even open her front door. Her gifts have started piling up. I wish she would talk about me again. I wish I could make her smile again. I did everything for her. I even saved her from the creep that was cheating on her. Of course, she was really upset when they found his body. I would have been upset if my lover was found dead next to the person they were cheating on me with. She told people that she was upset about his death, but I know the truth. I know that she was upset that he was unfaithful to her. I know her better than anyone.

Her favorite color is green. Her favorite flower is a lily. Her favorite food is Chinese. Her favorite place in the world is Paris. I will take her there one day, as soon as she comes to terms, as soon as she realizes she is in love with me. Until then, I will just watch her from afar. Wait for her to come to me. No restraining order can keep me away from my Summer, my sunshine, the  love of my life.

She is staring out the window, I wonder if she sees me. Of course she doesn’t see me, the sun is gone now. I am well hidden within the trees. She knows I am here though. Tears always stain her face, I know they are tears of joy, knowing that I am watching over her. She must feel so safe knowing that I will not let anyone harm her. I almost have her. Soon I will wrap her in my arms and hold her close. Soon I will take her to all the places she has wanted to see. How can any girl resist a man who has all the money in the world? She will come to me.

My heart races as I watch her cross through the living room and to the front door. This is it. Finally, she has come to her senses, she is going to come to me. She will confess her love for me. We will be a power couple, the couple the world will want to see. We will be perfect together and we will have a beautiful family.

Her front door opens, and she stands in the door way in her ratty bathrobe and bunny slippers, a cup of coffee in her hands. She steps out on to the small porch, letting the rain touch her skin. She is beautiful. I can see her smile as she stares in my direction. She senses me. She knows me. I know her. I didn’t fallow her everyone for nothing. I am the only man that can make her happy. I am the only man she will ever need in her life again.

“Come to me.” I whisper to her. I know she heard me. Despite the loud rain and the distance between us. I stand tall and straight, waiting for her to cross the road to me. She walks down the steps, her feet soaking up the wet dirt. I am such a fool, I should have gone to her. This is a fragile beautiful creature who should not be out in this kind of weather. I rush out of the forest, across the road and stand in front of her. She steps back onto the porch, her bright blue eyes are wide.

“Why?” Her soft voice falls from her lips. Her bright pink, plump lips. I have always imagined my own lips upon hers. They look so soft. I like my lips and tilt towards her, but her hand on my chest stops me. “Why?” She asks again.

“Because your soul cries out to me.” I tell her, cupping her cheek. She goes to pull away, but I place my free hand on the other side of her face, holding her where she stands.

“I need a soul.” She says, a smile growing wide across her face. Her eyes look straight into mine as they turn solid black. I gasp and try to pull away, but she has grasped the front of my shirt, stopping me from fleeing. “You seem willing enough.” She says to me. I try to run, but my feet are no longer on the ground.

“What are you?” I ask, frantic. Of all my years of watching women, of finding the perfect ones for my collection, none had ever fought back so quickly.

“The demon sent to reap your soul.” She laughs. A haunting laugh that fills the dark night. The only light is from inside the house. A house that I knew so well. A house that I had watched every night for a year, waiting for the right moment to make my move. I was so sure I had her, I was so sure she would be the last of my collection.

“Why me?” I ask. I know that my life is only seconds from ending. There is no going back from this.

“I need you for my collection.” She whispers, right before she bites my throat.

Death is a strange thing. You remember a lot as your life is drained from you. All I can remember are the women of my collection. Their perfect bodies displayed in my basement, waiting for my return. My perfect lonely women that will be alone forever now, because my latest victim was the one hunting me.


I hope you enjoyed it. Don’t forget to let me know what you think. Soon I will have a page on my blog for you to go and check out all the stories from the prompt challenge!



4 thoughts on “Prompt Challenge 3-2: The Watcher

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