“We both need some time apart,” Marie repeated, her voice stronger now. “This isn’t healthy for either of us.”
Dylan remained motionless, staring at her with unsettling calm. The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, until Marie felt compelled to fill it.
“I’m not saying we can’t be friends or—”
“You’re not leaving me, Marie.” His voice cut through her sentence like a knife, sharp and cold.
She blinked, confused. “Dylan, I’ve already made up my mind. This isn’t—”
“You’re not leaving me.” This time his voice was firmer, final, as if her decision had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He stood up slowly, taking a step toward her. “We’re not over.”
Marie took an instinctive step back, the gravity of his words sinking in. The Dylan she thought she knew—the charming, funny, and attentive man—had cracked, and something much darker was lurking underneath.
“We need space,” she insisted, more firmly now, though her hands trembled at her sides.
Dylan’s eyes flickered, a subtle shift in his expression that sent a chill down her spine. “You’re making a mistake. You’ll see.”
---
In the days that followed, Marie tried to shake off the uneasy feeling Dylan had left her with. She moved forward with her life, deleted his number, and made efforts to reconnect with friends she had distanced herself from during the relationship. For a while, things seemed to be looking up. She even started going to yoga classes again, something she hadn’t done in months.
But then the calls began.
At first, they came from unknown numbers. A brief pause on the other end of the line, then a soft, static-laden breath before the call ended. Marie blocked every number that came through, but they always resurfaced from a new one.
And then came the notes.
It started with one, innocuously enough, left under her windshield wiper after work. *“I miss you.”* No name, but she knew exactly who it was from. Marie crumpled the note and threw it away, refusing to let it rattle her.
The next day, there was another one. “You can’t run from me.”
Marie tried not to panic, but as the weeks dragged on, Dylan’s behavior escalated. He began showing up at places he had no business knowing about—her favorite coffee shop, the new gym she had joined. He never approached her directly, but she would catch him watching her from a distance, his eyes always calm, always unblinking.
She reported it to the police, but without any clear threats or evidence of violence, they couldn’t do much. “Keep a record,” they told her. “If he does something more, we’ll take action.”
Marie started to feel trapped, as though every aspect of her life was being monitored. She stopped going out as much, keeping the blinds drawn in her apartment. Friends reached out, concerned about her growing isolation, but how could she explain? How could she tell them about the cold, suffocating fear that wrapped itself around her every time she left her apartment?
One night, after a long, restless day at work, Marie returned to her apartment, exhausted. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on the light—and froze.
There, sitting on her couch as though he belonged, was Dylan.
Her breath hitched, the room spinning. “How did you get in?” she whispered, her voice barely above a gasp.
Dylan smiled, slow and deliberate. “You should’ve changed the locks, sweetheart.”
Panic surged through her veins, but she forced herself to stay calm. “Get out.”
Dylan’s smile widened, as though he found her fear amusing. “I told you, Marie. We’re not over. You don’t get to just walk away from me.”
She reached for her phone, but in a flash, he was on his feet, grabbing her wrist in a bruising grip. “You don’t need that.”
Marie yanked her hand free, her heart pounding. She had never seen him like this—so calm, so detached. It was like he was enjoying the game, feeding off her fear.
“I’ve been patient,” he said softly, almost soothingly. “But you’re not listening. I don’t want to hurt you, Marie. I want you to understand that we’re meant to be together. You can’t escape me. I won’t let you.”
Marie’s pulse raced as she stared at Dylan, her mind scrambling for a way out. She could feel the weight of his presence, a suffocating force that pressed down on her as he stood there, unflinching.
Her eyes darted to the door behind him, but he saw it too, his smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.
“Don’t bother, Marie,” he said, his voice low and steady. “There’s nowhere to run.”
“You need help,” Marie said, trying to steady her voice. “This isn’t normal, Dylan. We’re over. I don’t love you anymore.”
His face twitched, a brief flash of anger surfacing before disappearing just as quickly. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re confused. You think you want freedom, but you’ll see. I’m the only one who truly cares about you. No one else will love you the way I do.”
Marie felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat. She had to find a way to escape this nightmare before it spiraled any further. She shifted slightly, angling her body toward the kitchen where she knew there was a drawer with a pair of scissors.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, stalling for time, edging slowly toward her target.
“Because you belong to me,” he replied simply. “And I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”
Marie’s heart pounded in her chest as she neared the kitchen counter. She took a deep breath, praying her movements were subtle enough to avoid his notice.
But Dylan’s eyes flicked to her shifting feet, his expression hardening. “Don’t even think about it.”
Before she could react, he lunged toward her, his hand grabbing her arm with bone-crushing force. Marie let out a small cry of pain, her heart slamming in her chest as she struggled to pull free.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Marie,” Dylan whispered, his voice chillingly calm. “But you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
Marie could feel her pulse roaring in her ears. She had to think fast. In one swift movement, she twisted her body and reached for the closest object on the counter—a heavy glass vase. She swung it as hard as she could, catching Dylan off guard and smashing it into his shoulder.
He let out a pained grunt, releasing his grip on her arm. Marie didn’t hesitate. She bolted for the door, fumbling with the lock as her fingers trembled. She could hear Dylan behind her, regaining his footing, the sound of broken glass crunching beneath his shoes.
Finally, the door flew open, and Marie sprinted out into the hallway, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She didn’t look back as she raced down the stairs, her mind screaming for her to move faster. She had to get away before Dylan could catch up.
Bursting out into the street, she saw a nearby café, its windows glowing warmly against the darkness outside. She sprinted toward it, pushing open the door and collapsing inside. The barista looked up in surprise, but Marie didn’t have time to explain. She grabbed her phone from her pocket, hands shaking as she dialed 911.
“I need help,” she gasped into the phone. “He’s after me. He broke into my apartment. Please, send someone quickly.”
The police arrived within minutes, but Dylan was nowhere to be found. Marie explained everything to the officers, her voice trembling as she recounted the terrifying events. They took her statement seriously this time, promising to monitor her apartment and look into getting a restraining order. But the gnawing fear in her gut told her it wasn’t enough.
Dylan was smart—too smart. He wouldn’t give up that easily.
For days, Marie lived in constant fear. She kept the lights on at night, checked her phone obsessively, and jumped at every small sound. She started avoiding public places, knowing that Dylan could be watching, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Then, one evening, Marie received an anonymous email. The subject line was blank, but the message inside made her blood run cold:
"You can run, but you can't hide."
Attached was a photo of her—taken just hours ago as she walked down the street, unaware that he was there, watching.
Marie’s mind raced. How could he be everywhere at once? How was he always one step ahead?
She couldn’t live like this anymore. She had to do something, had to find a way to end this nightmare before Dylan took things even further.
Marie knew the police wouldn’t be enough. Dylan was too cunning, too careful. If she wanted to escape his clutches, she had to take matters into her own hands.
That night, she drove to a cabin her family owned in the woods—a place Dylan didn’t know about. She packed everything she needed and planned to stay there until she could figure out her next move. But as soon as she arrived, she had the eerie feeling that something was wrong.
The cabin was dark, the air heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth. Marie stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest. She closed the door behind her, locking it tight.
But as she walked into the living room, she saw it.
A single candle flickered on the coffee table, its flame casting a long shadow across the room.
And sitting in the chair, his face illuminated by the dim light, was Dylan.
“You didn’t really think you could hide from me, did you?” he asked, his voice dripping with malice.
Marie’s hand instinctively reached for the knife she had hidden in her coat, her breath shallow as she stared at Dylan sitting casually in the chair like he owned the place.
“How did you find me?” she whispered, her throat tightening with panic.
“You were never that hard to track,” Dylan said, standing up slowly, his movements deliberate and calculated. “I know you, Marie. You thought running to the middle of nowhere would make a difference? We were always meant to be together. You just haven’t realized it yet.”
Marie’s skin crawled as he took a step closer. She could feel the cold handle of the knife pressed against her palm, but she didn’t dare pull it out yet. Not until the moment was right. She had to keep him talking, buy herself time.
“I’m done with you, Dylan,” she said, trying to inject strength into her voice. “This obsession of yours—it’s not love. It’s twisted.”
Dylan’s face darkened, the mask of calm slipping for just a moment. “You don’t get to decide that. You belong to me. I gave you everything, and you think you can just walk away?”
He took another step toward her, and Marie’s heart pounded in her chest, the knife practically burning in her grip. Her mind was racing. She had to lure him into making a mistake, into letting his guard down.
“You’re right,” she said, her voice suddenly softer, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I do need you…”
Dylan froze, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher her words. “What did you say?”
Marie swallowed hard, her hands trembling behind her back. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but it was the only chance she had. She had to make him believe she was breaking, that his control over her was working.
“You’re right,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I…I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been so scared. Maybe you’re the only one who can protect me.”
Dylan took another step forward, his expression softening into something disturbingly close to affection. “I knew you’d see it my way. You’re scared because you’ve been trying to fight what’s inevitable. We’re meant to be together.”
Marie forced herself to look up at him, locking eyes with the man who had turned her life into a living nightmare. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her throat.
As Dylan reached out to touch her cheek, she knew it was now or never.
In a swift, fluid motion, she drew the knife from her coat and slashed at him, aiming for his side. Dylan barely had time to react as the blade cut through his shirt, a streak of red blossoming where the knife had hit its mark.
He stumbled backward, a look of shock and betrayal flashing across his face. “You—”
“I told you, Dylan,” Marie said, her voice trembling with adrenaline and fear. “I’m done.”
Dylan’s hand went to his side, blood seeping through his fingers. He looked at her with a mixture of rage and disbelief. “You’ll regret this,” he hissed, his voice dark and venomous.
Marie didn’t wait to hear what else he had to say. She bolted for the door, her heart racing as she threw it open and ran out into the dark woods. The cold night air stung her skin, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t look back.
Behind her, she could hear Dylan’s footsteps pounding against the ground, his ragged breaths growing louder as he chased after her. But Marie was fueled by sheer terror, her legs moving faster than they ever had before.
She could hear him yelling behind her, his voice twisted with rage. “You can’t run forever, Marie! I’ll find you!”
But she didn’t stop. She didn’t dare stop.
The trees blurred past her as she sprinted through the forest, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. Her body screamed for her to slow down, but her mind knew better. If she stopped now, Dylan would catch her. And if he caught her, this time there would be no escape.
Up ahead, she saw the faint glow of headlights through the trees. A car. Salvation.
With the last of her strength, Marie burst out onto the road just as a truck was passing. She waved her arms frantically, screaming for help. The driver slammed on the brakes, the truck screeching to a halt just inches away from her.
“Please,” Marie gasped, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. “He’s…he’s after me.”
The driver, an older man with wide eyes, immediately opened the door. “Get in!”
Marie scrambled into the passenger seat just as Dylan emerged from the tree line, his face twisted with fury, blood still dripping from his side. But before he could get any closer, the truck sped off, leaving him behind in the dark.
Marie collapsed into the seat, her whole body shaking as the adrenaline slowly wore off. She had escaped—for now. But deep down, she knew this wasn’t over. Dylan wouldn’t stop. Not until one of them was gone for good.
Epilogue:
Months passed, but Marie never truly felt safe again. She moved to a new city, changed her phone number, and even altered her appearance, trying to leave her old life behind. But the fear lingered, always in the back of her mind.
One day, as she was walking home from work, her phone buzzed with a new message.
Unknown Number: “Miss me?”
Marie’s heart dropped. She looked around the busy street, her breath catching in her throat. She didn’t see anyone out of place, but that didn’t matter. He was still out there. Still watching.
And she knew, deep down, that this nightmare wasn’t over yet.
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