Snow descends gently, each flake melting as it touches my flushed skin. My shoes squelch through the slush on my driveway. I'm about to twist my key in the lock when the clamorous screech of metal halts me.

My skin prickles with goosebumps.

What the hell was that?

I take a look around the street. I’m unable to get a full glimpse, the only source of light being the sole street lamp.

Not now. Not tonight.

Screech! The sound comes again, louder and harsher.

My shallow breaths fog in the cold air. I veer around the corner hesitantly, my pulse** **quickening when I spot a hooded figure.

The figure moves deliberately, like a predator. I move a few steps closer to gain a better view. As I peer at the figure I spot a face under their hood, male.

Dressed head to toe in black.

_Get inside Ava. Now._

The longer I look, the clearer the horrifying scene in front of me becomes. No, this cannot be happening. I catch sight of a person lying flat on the ground below the male dressed in black. Bile rises in my throat when I see his gagged mouth. He squirms underneath the assailant's foot, which is placed on his chest. His hands and feet are bound tight. The lack of light worsens my panic, drowning me in a sea of darkness.

_Call the police Ava. Now._

My hands move quicker than my mind, adrenaline acts for me.

I snatch my phone to dial for the cops. My heart drops to my stomach when I’m met with the battery symbol. Really? Right now?

Dread surges through me; I feel utterly alone.

What am I supposed to do?

Without warning the metal once again screeches. I take a few steps and see the gleam of silver in the figure's hand—a wrench. He's going to use it on him. My pulse thrums against my ear in a chaotic rhythm.

Maybe If I scream, a neighbour will wake up in time? But I can’t risk him seeing me here, he could have a gun. I don’t like my chances there.

I force my feet forward. There must be something I can do to distract him.

I crouch behind a bush just metres away.

I narrow my eyes to get a better glimpse.

He can’t be. This can’t be happening.

Blood spurts from the man’s mouth as he flails, begging for his life.

The assailant is taking his teeth.

Cold sweat drenches my body as I tremble with panic

My heart is in my throat. I need to do something. Anything. If my life didn’t depend on me not making noise, I would vomit on the tarmac floor beneath me. This is sick. Depraved.

“I’ll ask you again kade, the name.” The figure speaks, and god I wish he hadn’t.

The guy replies with gibberish, mumbling as he chokes on his blood. My gut twinges with guilt, that I’m simply standing here watching.

But what would I do to help? I’m useless here.

I rummage through my pocket like a mad woman, grabbing my comb. Maybe I can set a car alarm off, he would be too distracted to ever notice me. Throwing the comb as far as I can, I make sure to stay well hidden. I can’t risk running away and leading him to my house. The figure's head spins toward the object as soon as it is mid-air, turning towards the direction it came from. Crap! I pray to a god I don't believe in that the dome of leaves hides my silhouette. I spot him walking towards the comb, he picks it up and inspects it with an unimpressed scowl.

I nestle deep into the nook of the bush. My neck then begins to itch. I feel something crawling on my skin.

_No_ _not now!_

It crawls further and further along my back, and my body reacts before I can compose myself. I let out an audible grunt. His head snaps toward me. Please don't see me. I quiet my breath and keep my body still as best as I can manage.

The crisp air is silent, I’d prefer screaming to silence. Silence is too unknown.

Too unpredictable.

In an instant, he stands in front of me, my blood thumps harder when I see a pair of combat boots come into view.

How did I not hear him coming?

I force my head up, I’ll look guilty as sin if I can’t even look at him.

I need to pretend I haven’t seen anything, my life quite literally depends on it.

The air is ripped from my lungs as soon as I cast my eyes on him. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but his face.. only intensifies my fear.

The dim lighting of our surroundings casts a shadow across his face, his expression is unreadable. Everything about him has my instincts screaming for me to run.

“Why are you here?” He questions, his voice far more chilling up close.

I shift on my feet, itching to flee.

“I live here,” I stammer.

“What did you see?” He questions, impatience in his tone.

“I heard metal and I thought someone was stealing a car. I didn’t see anything; I need to get back, my boyfriends expecting me.” I ramble, hoping my nerves aren’t obvious.

His eyes narrow in assessment, of course he doesn’t believe me. I don’t believe me.

“Fine. Run along then, can’t keep him waiting.” He says, his tone is taunting.

I sprint as soon as he says those words. I barge into my door, ramming the key in. My ribs ache as I take in deep breaths of oxygen, my body believing I am still in danger.

I mean, aren’t I? He’s seen my face. And now he knows where I live.

I need to call the cops. I can’t just ignore what I witnessed, a man’s life was about to be stolen from him. I run to my bedroom, shoving the charger into my phone. After ten minutes of pressing the button like a maniac, it finally switches on. My fingers are rigid as I dial, I tell them everything I saw, the wrench, the teeth. The blood. They reassured me that dispatch was sending someone out and would be with me within five minutes.

I sit on the edge of my bed, ripping the skin off of my nail beds while I wait for the police to arrive.

A knock on my front door snaps me from my thoughts. My heart races, until I realise who it is. I curse as their light floods my bedroom. Could they not be discreet? The guy will easily put two and two together.

“Good evening ma’am. I’m Officer Bailey this is my colleague, Officer Harris. We understand you reported an incident that just occurred?” The blonde officer says. The concern etched onto her face eases my panic, she didn't take this lightly.

“Yes, that was me. Would you come in please, just with him being near.” I speak quickly, my voice hushed.

“Of course Ava, I understand.”

We move to my living area, Officer Harris then retrieves a notepad and pen.

“We’re going to need a full statement from you, every detail you can remember from what you witnessed. Nothing is too small or insignificant.”

I recollect the events of tonight to the two officers. I panic a little at my stupidity to interact with the guy, why could I not just be selfish? This was not my place to intervene.

“That was incredibly helpful Ava, Thank you. You’ve been thorough. We’re going to conduct an official investigation and if we find anything of importance we’ll let you know straight away. Because the perpetrator spoke to you, and because he now probably knows your address, we will have a patrol officer sit outside your house. Primarily, for your safety. It’s just a precaution; in cases like these, the perpetrators often relocate. We will do everything we can.” She assures me. The certainty in her tone eases my panic slightly.

I lock the doors, going back every ten minutes to check I did so properly. I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, my body is brimming with panic and adrenaline. I thought a shower would stop the shaking. It didn’t. The figure's face haunts my mind, appearing every time I close my eyes, darkening it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it.

This feeling reminds me of **him. **The panic. Adrenaline. It made me crave calm. Three years ago I felt fear far worse than anything I felt tonight. In a way, it thickened my skin. I’m not thankful though, just logical. I’d still do anything to erase that time from my life. The calls, the texts. Showing up to my work. I’d been to therapy, groups, and meetings. Everything.

It never leaves.

I’m in a constant state of feeling hunted.

I grab my bag at five on the dot and say goodbye to my colleagues. The air is icier tonight, the winter nights are dark now. The sun escapes before I can appreciate it. I hurriedly grab my keys from my bag and get into my car, not wanting to linger whilst I'm by myself. I thought it was best to continue with my daily life despite what happened yesterday. If I’m being honest I’ve been in some deep denial about what happened, I told no one at work. I didn’t want to speak it aloud. That makes it real. Delusion seems to be the solution.

I pull onto my driveway, shooting the officer sitting opposite a smile. His expression of focus comforts me.

After a scolding shower, and multiple glances behind the shower curtain, I head to bed. I take another peek at the patrol officer outside, needing the reminder that I have someone looking out for me.

I get into bed, desperately needing the sleep that i lost last night. I decide against switching off the lamp. I can’t deal with complete darkness right now.

A text alert dings through my room.

“You should have locked your back door, Ava.”

I shoot upright, my bed groaning as I reread the text. I rub my eyes repeatedly, wishing for this to be a stress-induced nightmare.

It does nothing, the words still sit there. Taunting me.

That has to be him.

The police are the only people that know.

Wait. I did lock the door, didn’t I?

A cold sweat forms on my forehead. My breaths puff out in increments. I whip the blanket off of myself, feeling suffocated by it.

I just need to call the cops. Now. That’s all I can do. I can’t face this lunatic.

As I bring the dial pad to my screen, my phone dings with a second message.

“Put the phone down Ava, or this ends tonight.”

My thoughts are muted by the drum of my heart. The fear is too much for my body to handle. Time seems to still, as I question if the words on my phone are there.

A sour metallic taste floods my mouth. I pull my teeth from my lips, realizing I'm bleeding.

I snap myself back into reality, fight seeming to beat flight. I can’t shout for anyone, I’m at the back of the house. What the hell do I do? I consider hiding in the bathroom, but the lock is long overdue to be fixed. If he’s already inside my house he would only need a minute, the police would need at least five.

He’ll kill me. Probably rip my teeth out before he delivers the final blow too.

I have nowhere to hide.

I’m trapped.

Part two coming!🤍