I met him at the little Italian restaurant down in Huntington Beach. I go here frequently, and I’ve never spotted a single guy, so I was astonished to see a man sitting at a table for two by himself.

He looked so lonely, like his date never showed up. But, if I’m going to be completely honest, I’m not sure why his date wouldn’t show up. His cold umber eyes held something else that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, and it was not isolation.

The other strange thing I noticed was that this man was staring at me the entire time, and it wasn’t one of those falling-in-love stares, it was you-have-something-I-want-and-I-will-get-it stare.

The bright lights in the room seemed to dim down to a dark red every time he glanced over at me. His gaze made me distressed, it made me want to run home, crawl under my bed, and never come out again.

I was determined to keep my head down after that, refusing to look up at him and feel his strange eyes take control of me. In fact, I was so determined to block out everything around me, that I didn’t hear what the low, yet smoky voice on my right.

“Are you okay? You look like your having a panic attack.” I looked up at the voice, to realize my face was in my hands.

“Um . . Yeah, I was just . . Um . .” I rubbed the back of neck and my face went red. The voice, I figured out, was the man with the umber eyes.

His chuckle petrified me. It was velvety but very masculine at the same time. The man was not great for my mental heath.

“Would you mind if I sit here?” He asked, referring to the seat next to me. I nodded foolishly and scooted my chair over so he had room to sit. The corner of his lips slightly raised as he took a seat next to me.

“My sister couldn’t show up, a _family_ emergency she said. Either I’m kicked out of it, or it’s _another_ boy problem. I figured I should still show up.” He fidgeted with a straw wrapper resting on the counter. “Do you eat here a lot?” He asked me. I looked down and pinched my leg, keeping myself from running away.

“W-well-. . I have . . Ever since my parents got divorced and my dad died a few months ago.” I murmered bitterly. The man’s face softened as a single tear rolled down my cheek. I looked down before I could turn red from embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry . .” His voice became tight and he looked away. His eyes were dark as he turned back to face me. He cleared his voice before saying, “I’m not sure I got your name?”

I looked back up at him. “Madison.” A smirk returned back to his face.

“Eric.”

We drunkily lumbered over the sidewalk to his apartment. I think we had dinner, but I’m not sure. We had a couple of margaritas and then everything went fuzzy.

I almost fell as Eric swung open his front door and we stumbled inside. I thought the butterflies in my stomach were going to come up my throat as he locked his door and turned to me. I had waited for this moment all evening.

“Don’t you dare groan too loud.” He grinned, but there was malice and recklessness in his face. Danger in a way.

“Your even sexier when you look like that.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and bit his bottom lip, drawing blood. My entire body vibrated as he planted a kiss on my neck. I remember jumping into his arms, and then everything around me becoming black.

The morning sun shown through the windows spread out through the window, birds tweet loudly outside of the apartment. It was about 5 minutes later when I realized I wasn’t laying next to Eric. This has happened to me a few times before, most of the time, their just showering or brushing their teeth.

“Eric!” I called. No answer. _That’s weird_, I thought.

I crawled out of bed and soon realized that I was too hungover to stand up, but I needed to find Eric. I wobbled down the stairs and to the closest door I could find.

His house was nice, modern. It was small enough for one person, but big enough for two.

I swung the door open to see . .

“D-dad . . ?” My father was laying dead and bloody on Eric’s closet floor. His corpse terrified me, it looked just like him. His short jet black hair, his graying mustache, and the worst part . . His jade eyes were open and petrified and disturbed.

“Eric!” I shrieked. My heart was racing and I started to take slow, pained puffs of air. I put my hand on the door for support. I was in the house of a murder. A serial killer. He killed my father. _I knew he was hiding something, that’s why he looked away when I said my dad had . . Died, _I realized.

“Eric!” I screamed. Why the hell am I screaming for the person that brutally murdered my father? I had sex with the person that killed my father! What the hell is wrong with me!?

“Yes?” His velvety voice was next to my ear. I gulped and ragained my voice. Serial killers want me to be scared don’t they? So, I have to be confident.

“W-why is my father dead in your closet?” Eric laughed. “Just look down.”

I don’t know why I did. A long, silver knife was sticking out of my stomach.

“How could yo”-Eric had cloth around my mouth before I could continue my sentence.

“I was hoping you didn’t have to found out, I kind of liked you, but now you know too much.” He through me into the closet along with the remains of my father, and locked the door.