Miles adjusted the balaclava over his face further, making sure all of his features were hidden even through the darkness. he kept his steps light, shoulders hunched and jaw clenched. had nobody taught you not to wander through the woods alone so late at night?

you were on your way back from a party, flashlight in hand as you travelled the route through the deep dark woodland as you often did. though this time was different— you had company. the worst part was, you didn’t know that yet. when he saw you leaving your house hours previous, he wanted to protectively grab you and tell you that you weren’t going.

Miles had never spoke to you. you so much as knew his name— but he knew more about you than you did. if anyone found out, they would probably call it stalking or being inappropriate. Miles hated that word. it made him feel like some creep who was only after one thing— and he was. you.

he made sure he was silent, as stealthy as the shadows that hung over you while he gripped his switchblade tight as ever in his left hand, a piece of rope in the right that were shoved deeply into his pockets. the church was just a little ways past your house— ready for you. he made sure to keep his distance, though you seemed as care free as a daisy in summer. but this was it, he was going to do it.

the entire walk, he’d been staying hidden— ducking behind trees and being as quiet as possible. but your house was approaching, he knew he had to act fast. so he sped up, moving faster and faster before grabbing you from behind. one hand wrapped around your mouth, the other encircling your waist and trapping your arms to your stomach.