Four Stalkers

You were just coming out of the pastry shop, holding a box of sweets with a smile on your face. Tonight was your boyfriend’s birthday.

You were almost waiting for a taxi.

But a black car with tinted windows was speeding toward you.

Fear crept into your chest. You kept walking, sneaking a glance behind you. The car seemed to slow down, matching your pace.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. The grip on the box of sweets tightened, almost shaking. Sweat ran down your forehead. You swallowed hard.

Suddenly, the car stopped, and the world spun around you. You quickened your shaky steps. The sound of a car door opening reached your ears.

You ran—but he ran too, catching up to you and grabbing you tightly. The box of sweets fell from your hands to the ground. You struggled, tried to scream, but something was pressed over your mouth.

The one with a red mask hanging on his face, hiding his features, tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your vision darkened. There were four of them, all tall and broad-shouldered.

One wore a black mask, one a red mask, one a dark silver mask, and the last one a white mask with a hint of red.

Panic surged through you.

They threw you into the trunk of the car and knocked you out. Slowly, your eyes began to close.

The four men got into the car and drove off. They were stalkers…