lock stalk two creepy tales pt 1

Lock stalk two creepy tales.

I remember distinctly the first time I saw her. I was at the park laying under an old but not too old oak tree. I think it was oak. Old enough to provide me with a canopy of branches and leaves. Quite accommodating on a harsh sunny day. As I looked onto the shapes of the clouds. With a filter fit for a horny young teenager. The only things I could see in the clouds were phallic shapes and. To be blunt. Vaginas. All shapes and sizes. Don’t know what that says about me. As I sat up to take a sip of my soda (Gin+ Grape Kool-Aid+club soda). I noticed her. Coming down the cement path set in between the hills of the park. I don’t lie and I won’t start now. What first caught my eye was the fact that she had rather large breasts. Her nipples were as hard as diamonds in an ice storm. And also they weren’t under the protection of a sports bra. I believe the proper word to insert here would be. Giggity. I watched her breasts heave up and down with every stride. I’ll give you a moment to imagine what that was like……frankly speaking about the color, or cut of her top at this point is moot. As my mind continued to wander down the rest of her physique I noticed a few key things that you could say. Really sealed the deal for me. She had a trim, athletic body type you could say.  Long legs, her hair was platinum blonde. But not so much so that it conflicted with her skin tone. Which was just fair enough to look gorgeous in all types of lighting. A rare quality. She had her hair in a tight pony tail. And like her chest, it bounced up and down as well. She made her towards me in slow motion. At this very still moment I begin to fantasize sexually about her. Yet I try to keep it respectful. Again I don’t know what that says about me. To sexually fantasize about a nameless woman. But I keep it respectful. As if in my own fantasy I could be rejected for a lack chivalry. I don’t like this. And yet I don’t want this feeling to go away. The Technicolor picture began to emerge in my head. Keeping it classy. I imagined her in black high heels. Whichever one looks like something a stripper would wear. If she had gotten stripper shoes one night to dance. But at the last minute lost her nerve. But kept the shoes because they looked good with a couple…outfits. My mind is a web of bullshit. Net stockings clipped to her panties. Which I keep shifting between red and some sort of crazy girly design. Doesn’t matter really. No bra. Only the palms of her hands. A classy hand bra. Yes I am perverted. No I am not ashamed. There are worse creatures than me. Sick. In an alternate universe. Where the “new world”, was discovered not by prudes and religious zealots. But free thinking, intellectuals from all across Europe. I would not be the odd man out. I began to combine her image in reality and the one I had established in my head. Watching beads of sweat making there decent from her brow down an in visible path along the side of her nose. Until finally crashing upon the shores that are her lips. Kissable. Soft. As she passed me by she glanced up at me. For a brief moment we locked eyes and I felt my insides catch fire. I’d rather burn than look away. And she was gone. I didn’t follow. Part of me wanted to. And another part of me decided it would be too much to be rejected before I could get a word in. Patience does pay off. Four weeks. Three days. Eight hours. And roughly 20-28 minutes later. I saw her again. This time I would do anything to make sure I don’t have to wait this long to see her again.  I was walking out of the gas station. I had purchased my usual things. One liter of generic club soda. Several packets of Grape Kool-Aid. Two packets of Spam. A single one dollar scratch off lottery ticket (I don’t scratch them, I just scan to see if it wins….I have yet to see a return on my investments). One adult magazine, the kind is irrelevant. They all have giant obstructions on the cover anyway. And I feel socially awkward perusing my local porn rack. Why would I want a sign that says. Hey I’m obviously alone, evident by my groceries in hand. And the expression on my face. The same one people get when they are trying to find Waldo. Instead focused on whether or not the woman on the cover of Big Jugs Aficionado. Does in fact have big jugs. A leap of faith must be taken. As I walked out of the store I noticed a woman coming toward me, I held the door open as a reflex of being raised as a gentlemen. A small gesture to people I come in contact with saying. Hey I’m not an asshole. I worry too much about other people. A fault that lay dormant now. But I’m sure will catch up with me at some point. But not yet, not today at least. The woman brushed passed me and barely muttered a thank you. As I looked back to see who had been so dismissive. I saw it was her. And the feeling in my stomach arose. The feeling you get driving down a steep hill. Without realizing it I had already walked to my car and got inside. Where the time went in between I do not know. I lit a cigarette to catch my nerves. Such an odd expression. They’re my nerves I shouldn’t have to catch them. I watched as she made her way back to her car. No gas. Just water, and a copy of Cosmo or People. Some periodical a female in her demographic would read. The kind with articles like. How to Keep Your Man: Secrets of a Las Vegas call girl. Or. Thirty ways to lose 30 pounds in 30 days. I’m not a Licensed Physician. But that sounds rather unhealthy. But what do I know I subsist on a diet of alcohol and spam. But my favorite are the sex lessons, with the oddly drawn illustrations. Just makes me chuckle. She pulled out of the parking lot and I followed behind. I kept my distance because if movies have taught me anything. It’s when following someone by vehicle always keep a car in between. The chase is on. Giddy up. After about ten minutes or so we arrive at a modest house. Nothing too extravagant. But still so much nicer than my own dwelling. It’s the only car in the drive way and unless all manner of space and time went out the window without my knowledge. My watch says 8:24pm Central Standard time. No boyfriend or husband home from work? Odd. Maybe he just works odd hours. I stayed parked across from her house. I turned my lights off and slumped down into my seat. I watched as changed out of work cloths and put on something comfortable. I don’t meant lingerie. Sweats and a T-shirt. That’s comfy to me. It was hard to see everything she was doing. But what I did see was gratifying enough to leave. I know where she lives. That’s half the battle right there. Now I can love her and watch her. I won’t let anyone hurt her….or come between us. As I’m driving home I can’t help but be carried off to some wonderful world in my head where it’s just me and her. Happy as any two people can be with one another. That phenomenon happens. When you day dream intensely while driving. When you arrive at your destination you have no recollection of the time in between. Auto pilot. Fascinating. I get home to my modest shack (I exaggerate it’s a one bedroom efficiency, not an enlarged outhouse). I turn on my hot plate. Drop a package of span on the pan. I sit down at my child says kitchen table. The height is right for average sized adults. But the table is wide enough for only person to eat on. It’s quite a depressing table when you get down to it. Most things made for singles are. I hear something outside my back door. I jump up and run the 4 yards from my couch to my backdoor window. I turn the light on and I don’t see anything. Just a bottle writhing on the ground. Dumb cats. I go back to lay down on my couch and attempt to navigate the digital basic channels I receive. It’s a total of 5 useful channels that I continuously cycle through. Cable is expensive, did you know that? Times like these I wish I hadn’t sold my DVD player, and my entire collection of DVD’s. Season two of Alf, a copy of Old School. And a burnt DVD of pornography….that has never worked. Obviously I couldn’t sell the broken down pirated copy of Killer Kleavage from Outer Space….it has garnered enough sentimental value to be kept with my things. I fell asleep. In that sleep I entered a dream. A wonderful dream I never wanted to wake from. Days and weeks went on blurring together. As if everything in the last couple months was one cohesive day. I don’t remember eating or sleeping, or doing anything but watching her. I have spells where I do black out. But it always seems as though I’m only gone for a few moments. Once I lost an entire day. I’m not sure what I did that day. But nothing has ever come of it so I must have just stayed home. Not a bad thing when you know there are periods of time when you aren’t in control and yet when you regain control everything is ok. I had learned everything I needed to know about her. And I was even more in love with her now then before.  Now I could fully appreciate every little thing she does. It’s like magic. Every little thing turns me on…..I think that’s a song. The time had come to make my move. It was fight or flight. Either she would accept me and we ride into the sunset. Or she rejects me. And I’ll show her salvation. Its three foot wide, and six feet deep. I’ll have a matching end. What kind of lover would I be leaving her, just to rot in the ground alone? Seems so stupid when the solution is to kill her, and then kill me. Brilliant in its simplicity. Even if our mortal remains are separated. Our souls are forever intertwined by my actions. Either that or these are the ravings of mad man. Or both. She always arrives home from work between 6:32 to 8:10. I entered her home with ease. She didn’t have an alarm. This was my fourth time inside. Soon to be first time we will be together in the same place….on purpose. Believe it or not beyond getting into our home. I hadn’t planned anything else. Romance should be spontaneous. Despite the unique scenario we find ourselves in, I still feel like those romantic notions I’ve cultivated should not be thrown out. Imagine if she loves me and I act like a total slob. The embarrassment would be far too great. I haven’t turned the lights on for obvious reasons. But also I enjoy the darkness. I’m able to see more clearly the future I have set forth for myself. I hear a car pull into the driveway. My hearts starts to race a thousand beats per minute. Also I have noticed in my excitement I have created an erection. And to be perfectly honest. The intention is good. I get it. But the timing is so bad. So very bad. I hear a creek but I don’t pay much attention…..I wish I had. As I was tucking my erection into my waist band I was hit very hard in the head when I woke up I saw her standing in front me. I tried to move but something was holding me down. I had been tied to a folding chair in the living room. I looked at her and I heard another person behind me. I didn’t know who this person was male or female. Of course they are responsible for my head wound, and the possibility that some of my mental faculties aren’t quite the same. I do feel sluggish. No one’s talking. I don’t mutter a syllable either. After a grueling two minutes of complete silence. The tension is broken. The stranger speaks…..

I didn’t know any better. I thought I was supposed to feel that way. Like I did something wrong. Until I realized I wasn’t wrong. He was. He took something so precious. I will never get it back. But I will get something. I won’t let him hurt anyone else. I started following him. Watching his every movement. I was infatuated with the idea of taking down a piece of shit. I watched him as he preyed on other women. Waiting for the right one. Then something happened I didn’t expect. I fell in love. I fell in love with my attacker. And now I’m stalking him. Not for revenge but for matters of the heart. I don’t know much about psychology. But I do know. What I’m feeling is pretty messed up. How did all of my bubbling hate turn into love? I decided trying to answer existential questions about who I am and why I went from one end of the spectrum to the other was useless. I can pin point the time it happened. Five weeks into watching him. I had become greatly disgusted with his insatiable need to find women and try and ingratiate himself romantically with them. I watched him teeter back and forth going from. Ah shucks that date didn’t work out. To Ah this date didn’t work out…so let me try again when I follow you home and sit outside your window while you undress. Wondering if tonight is the night that I go all the way. As I peered into my binoculars I saw a tinge of sadness on his face. The very next second after I realized my disgust for his habits were no longer because of how he objectified women. But rather disgusted that it wasn’t me.  How? How does one grow to love their rapist? It’s not quite like I was kidnapped and I fell for him. This man attacked me. I grew a hate for him. And somehow over the period of time I’ve been plotting to end his life….I have fallen in love. I continued watching him only not hurt him. But to love him. Maybe he would love me back. He went to the park as he often does. People watch, clear his head. He stares quite intensely at the sky as if it will deliver some cosmic answer he’s been searching for all his life. As he sat up to continue his inebriation he saw her running. I saw the look in his eye when he sees something he likes. Who could blame him? She was the epitome of beauty. I was so hurt. You could tell he was already playing out whatever sick fantasies are in his head. That should be me. Not her. She passed and he didn’t move. He didn’t go after her maybe I was worried for nothing. Until Four weeks. Three days. Eight hours. And roughly 20-25 minutes later. He saw her again. This time I knew he couldn’t help himself. He did that zombie thing where he’s there, but not there. He started following her. Now I know he will be hard pressed to give up on this one. He sat outside her house for a good hour before leaving. She peered out the window. I think she noticed the strange man sitting outside her house for an hour. Intently staring down her house. Nothing illegal in that. Although jarring she didn’t call the police. I know this because after he left I marched up to her door. Now my intentions. My real intentions. Was to get rid of this two bit hussy. But as far as she’s concerned. I’m a concerned private citizen trying to help her. I explain to her how he has done this before. How involving the police was useless. And more importantly I convinced her to let me do what I wanted to him. To reverse the hunt and have him become the prey. I will be honest she played her part very well. She was not afraid to go the extra mile for realism. And it worked beautifully. I knew he was breaking. And having her play up the lonely, erotically charged twenty something worked out more than I ever dreamed. He was like clay. I could do what I wanted. Now I feel bad. I do she was a very nice girl. I misjudged the two bit hussy. Who could blame me? But regardless of how good of a person she is. He is infatuated with her every molecule. He’s infected. As am I. as fate would have it. As I stepped off the bus to start my mile walk to her house. I saw a familiar car. As it turned at the stop sign she could clearly see his face. I called her and filled her in. I told her to hang back until I see what he does. I wasn’t sure. Who knows when that back breaking straw was gonna come? I sprinted as fast I could to her street. As I stopped to catch my breath I saw him. He was going inside. Knowing full well she will be home any minute. This isn’t your run of the mill stalker house visit. Where he touches things maybe takes a pair of panties, and leaves. No. He wanted to stay. He wanted to have her. I called immediately. I told her it was now or never. She could come home and we follow through with the plan. Or what she thinks is the plan at least. She said she would pull into the driveway in about ten minutes. I watched him. He paced around a bit before coming to statuesque stop at the front window. My anger grew. I slipped in the back door where he got in. He didn’t even notice. I saw the blinding ray of concentrated sunshine otherwise known as headlights as they blinded him. Of course he wasn’t just blinded by headlights. Love has a part to play. I took out a baton I got at a gun show. Supposedly the LAPD uses the same kind of baton. I put everything into that hit. And it showed. I cracked him over the skull. I tiny bit of blood squirted on me. Closest I’ve been to him since we met. He went down with a slight twitch but he was down. I opened the front door to give her the OK. She came inside and helped me tie him to a folding chair. Just have to wait for him to wake up. While we waited I went into the kitchen to get some water. She stayed, keeping an eye on him. He started to move. No one said anything. You could hear a strand of hair drop it was so quiet. Then finally I couldn’t contain it I said what I had been wanting to say for so long. I wasn’t to waste another moment. Cont in pt 2