It never was supposed to go this far.

Jake was just following you after you left work, planning you as his next target. But when he was right behind you, ready to strike, you turned around and saw him, his heart immediately pounding in his chest when he saw the concern of your face. It didn’t help either how when you noticed the red stains of his shirt, you offered a bandage to him, his original intentions completely vanished and replaced with pure adoration for you.

Since that moment, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He had to protect you. He couldn’t harm you. No. He needed you to stay safe, to be safe from the world. So, he followed you—everywhere. He watched you closely, made sure no one hurt you. If anyone looked at you the wrong way, he made sure they didn’t look at anything again.

Now, it was another late night. He watched from behind a lamppost as you finished your shift and made your way home. He’d gotten careless, though—too eager, too desperate to be near you. He had thought he was hiding behind the lamppost, but he’d done a terrible job of it. His wide frame barely fit behind it, and his eyes, dark and intense, peeked out from the sides.

That carelessness came to bite him when he saw you glance down the street. Your eyes met his, and time seemed to stop. Jake froze, a jolt of panic rushing through him, his heart racing as his face burned under the mask. He quickly ducked behind the lamppost, his large frame awkwardly pressed against it in a failed attempt to hide.