Chapter 21

The second thing was his breathing. It was slow and almost imperceptible, unlike mine, which filled the silence of the room. He seemed calm and confident being there, which meant the invasion didn’t seem like a big deal to him. He was probably used to acting as an intruder, so much so that he didn't even worry about it anymore. Or – and this was a hypothesis that bothered me – he just didn’t think I was a dangerous enough adversary to make him nervous. I must have seemed like an easy prey. I decided, feverishly, that I wouldn’t let him leave with the same impression he came with.

"How rude, darling."

His voice sent chills down my spine.

He was much closer than I imagined, because I felt his breath touch my neck when he spoke. Instinctively, I pulled away, but he grabbed my arm. His touch burned my skin as if his fingers were made of embers. I didn’t like how that made me feel fragile.

"What do you want with this?" I asked. "Did you come to kill me?"

"What do you think?"

I took a deep breath.

"I think you don’t know what you're provoking."

His grip tightened and became almost a squeeze.

"And I think, if you're going to kill me, you should do it now, before the police find out you're here and shoot you in the head."

He laughed.

Laughed.

That damned laugh, full of humor, as if it were actually a joke to him. As if I were a joke.

"They have no idea who I am, what I do, or why I do it, but you think they'll be able to track me down and figure out that I'm inches away from the witness they're barely trying to keep safe."

"They know you're obsessed with me," I whispered. "They know you're a murderer, a stalker, and a criminal, and I guarantee you'll be in prison or a sanatorium soon, whichever place gets you first."

Another laugh, this time quieter, less amused.

"What do you think of all this, Coraline? Do you believe I'm obsessed with you?"

I shifted slightly and felt the tip of the knife press against my stomach, a welcome reminder that I was still in control.

"You read my books," I said. "You studied and learned about the killers, used what you learned to kill three people."

"That doesn't answer my question," he countered, his voice barely shaken. "Do you think I'm obsessed with you?"

"Yes," I answered.

"And why can’t it be something else?" he asked. "Why can’t it just be interest, curiosity, or attraction?"

"Because someone like you doesn’t feel interest, curiosity, or attraction," I retorted. "Human feelings don't suit a freak like you."

His fingers left my skin.

"I understand."

For a moment, there was such silence that I almost thought he had left. However, the suffocating feeling of his presence wouldn’t let me believe that.

"You’re a cruel little thing, aren't you?"

Inside, it almost made me smile.

What a fucking irony.

"Cruel is just one of the things I am, but you have no idea about that, do you? You don’t know me. You’re going to be very disappointed when you realize that."

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and spun my body around, putting me in front of him. In the darkness, softened only by the light of the night coming through the open window, I could see a little of his outlines.

His face was covered by a hood.

"I’m not disappointed," he said. "You’re exactly what I expected you to be."

When he spoke again, his mouth was very close to my face.

"Extraordinary," he whispered.

"I’m going to find out who you are and make you pay for what you did."

"Chase me, Coraline," his deep voice resonated. "Come after me and get to know me. I’m looking forward to it."

"Maybe I don’t need to," I whispered, bringing my face closer to his. I got close enough that our noses brushed against each other. "Maybe tonight is enough to settle the matter."

I, who had already noticed the pattern, recognized when his breathing faltered and became quicker, more shallow. His scent was much more noticeable at that distance, harder to ignore. I smiled, savoring the pleasure that would bring me, and when my lips got closer, I struck. My free hand grabbed the knife at my waist and I drove it with all my strength into the body in front of me, accepting whatever it hit.

He didn’t scream, but let out a growl so fierce that I feared he might attack me. I left the knife buried in his flesh and pulled away quickly. I ran to the bedroom door and tried to unlock it, but he was faster; even in the dark, that man found me and pressed me against the wall. Violently, he tore the knife from his body and threw it on the ground, the steel clanging against the marble floor.

"A cruel little thing, indeed," he whispered, and I felt the pain embedded in his voice. "I was planning to be kinder, but that’s not what you need, is it?"

"You have no idea what I need," I shouted.

"You need cruelty, darling," he whispered. "And for that, I’ll be as cruel as you are."

"You son of a..."

"If you tell the police about the radio or anything about our encounters, I’ll kill one of your friends and send you their heart," he said, his voice dark and disturbing, invading my ears.

I stumbled over my own feet as I backed away.

I thought of my friends, terrified by the idea of them being caught in the crossfire. He had openly threatened them, which meant that if I gave any information to the police about our encounters, I could condemn one of them to death. I needed to think about that.

My friends were more important than the investigation.

And, despite being stabbed, it was as if the power was still in his hands. Without saying a word, his body pulled away from mine, and the door opened. In the next instant, he was no longer there.

One, two, three minutes passed, and eventually, the lights came back on. With my vision restored, I scanned the room and found no sign of him. The knife was on the floor, blood staining the marble, and the room soaked in a void that could only be described as desolate. It was only when I sat in the chair and took a breath that I realized how sweaty I was and how violently my heart was beating in my chest. When I looked at my bed, I saw something else.

A new chess piece, this time a black king.