She had come home later than usual. Exhausted and in need of a drink. Suddenly she didn't feel so tired. Staring at the freshly painted smiley face on her wall. She knew instantly that she was now the target of the person she had been hunting all these years. The hunter was now...

"That's too fucking cliché." I sighed as I hit backspace.

I was usually so good at this. Usually I didn't fall into the trap of a cliché. I loved how original my ideas usually were. Now... Now they wanted a sequel to my book. A book I had never intended to make a sequel to. The point was for the reader to create their own end. That's why I didn't write one.

"You good?" My roommate asked.

I shrugged and sighed. "They want the draft by Saturday."

My roommate patted my shoulder. "What you got so far?"

"A blank page and 6 hours of caffeine wasted." I hung my head back with another sigh.

My roommate smiled sadly at me. He knew how much this meant to me. My writing was my life but I never did well with deadlines. Especially when the deadline was forcing me to be creative. My creativity never sparked like that.

"Okay come on." My roommate pulled me away from my desk.

"What? I can't go anywhere. Deadline remember." I said.

"Screw the deadline. Let's go for a walk. Sight seeing more like it." He tossed me my coat.

I frowned at him as I stood up. "Sight seeing?"

He nodded his head. "All the places mentioned in your previous book. Where the murders took place and all that jazz. We'll go to each location and you write down what inspired you to choose that location. If more inspiration sparks then great."

I shrugged. There was no harm in trying. I was glad my roommate always tried to help me or make things better. He was actually really smart and I always wondered why he worked a boring office job instead of something that put his mind to the test. He hadn't even finished college because he claimed to have just gotten bored.

We made our way through the city. Stopping at all the locations that had inspired my last book. The initial dump spot of the first body, the park where victims three and five were taken, the place where the detective had her show down with the murder. It was all well and good visiting the places, but nothing original popped into my mind.

We got back to our place just after sun set. I really appreciated what my roommate had tried to do but it hadn't worked. He ordered food and I went back to my desk. I was going to stare at my screen until something, anything hit me. I hated my publisher and I kind of hated the people who bought my book.

A week had passed and all I had was "A body was found". I scolded myself for the unoriginality of it. My head rested on my desk as I thought about the notes I had made for a completely different book. I wondered if I could make it fit even though that book was mostly make-believe and impossible stuff.

A pair of hands rested on my shoulders and gently squeezed. I lifted my head expecting to see my roommate. Except I turned and came face to face with a wolf mask. At first I thought my roommate was just pulling a practical joke and I started to laugh. Then I felt a pinch in my shoulder. I looked at the hand on my shoulder and saw a syringe before my vision went black. My last thought was, "What the fuck?"

***

I woke up and groaned as I sat up. My body was aching and my head was throbbing. I had no idea where I was. I looked around and jumped back when I noticed the person standing in the corner. They were wearing a wolf mask and a hoody.

"Wh... What do you want?" I asked a little shakily.

The head tilted to the side like a real dog would do when they didn't understand. I wrote things like this. Situations where the victim was being toyed with and given hope. Where the tormentor didn't speak. Where...

Wait...

This was exactly something I had written. The wolf mask, the silence, the needle, the unknown location. If this person was following something I had written then they weren't going to answer anything. They'd most likely try to drive me insane by torturing me. How'd I even get here?

I got to my feet and the person hadn't moved. I knew they were watching me. I could swear they were purposefully imitating a curious dog. I didn't want to take my eyes off of them but I needed to check my surroundings.

"Do you mind not moving?" I said with a shrug. "Don't think I'm comfortable looking around if you move."

My heart was racing but I was doing my best not to freak out. I looked around slowly. At first just with my eyes, but I couldn't see too much. I started moving my head looking back at the person every so often. There was something behind me.

"Wh... What's that?" I gestured behind me.

As expected I didn't get an answer. I hadn't noticed it before but something was different. The person seemed closer. As if somehow they'd taken a giant step forward without me seeing. I was sure I would have noticed if they did that though. I swallowed a lump growing in my throat and stepped back. My action was ccoppied - they took a step closer to me.

My heart was starting to race even more now. I stepped back, they stepped forward. I stepped to the side and they stepped forward. I wasn't going to see what would happen if I stepped forward. I didn't want to know what would happen if I turned away from them either.

I kept my eyes on the person as I slowly moved back. Curiosity killed the cat and I was sure mine was going to kill me. I just had to know what was behind me though. My leg hit something as I got closer to whatever it was. I tried to step around it but couldn't.

I took a deep breath and turned to see what it was. I was stunned and frozen for about a full minute. The person used the opportunity to close the distance between us. Hands were placed on my shoulders and I was pushed down into the chair.

I couldn't breathe and my throat felt clogged. One hand moved from my shoulder down the length of my arm. With their hand over mine, I felt breath against the back of my neck. I was struggling not to start freaking out. My hand was guided to a pen. I picked the pen up and my hand was lead to the paper.

The other hand on my shoulder disappeared and showed up in front of me. I was staring at a picture of myself sleeping. The breathing behind me sent shivers down my spine. The picture was placed on the desk and before I had a chance to react a knife was slammed down into it.

I understood the implication. If I fell asleep I was going to be dead. I also gathered that I was supposed to write something. I had no idea what I was supposed to write but I had to write. For the time being writing and staying awake was ny Saving grace.

What would the victim do in... Wait I am the victim.

What would the killer do? What was something I could exploit? There had to be a way that I could get out of here alive. How would I write this as a story? But this wasn't a story. There were no infinite possibilities of an escape.

"Write."

The voice made me jump. It was deep and right in my ear. It almost sounded like an animal growling. My heart was still racing in my chest. The breathing hadn't stopped behind me.

He knew that there wasn't anything natural about this. The animal hair, the bite marks - they just didn't add up. How would an animal be able to stick a needle into someone? How would a human be covered in animal hair? It would have been a different thing if the animal hair had been dipped in chemicals. Anything that would indicate that the hair was part of a piece of clothing. Anything that would indicate some sense of reality.

I slowly turned to look over my shoulder. Did he know that I was referring to him? There was no indication that the person had moved. No indication that they were unhappy with me or what I was writing. I noticed something else though. Something I should have noticed sooner.

I turned back to the paper and carried on writing. I knew I had to get out of here. I knew I would be in danger if I stopped writing. I wrote a few more lines, as the time continued to tick. I felt hands on my shoulders followed by a gentle squeeze.

"I need coffee." I blurted out when I finally found my voice.

I turned slowly to make sure that the person had left. I quickly stood up and rushed to the far corner. I was right in my assumption. A copy of my book was laying on a stack of notes and pages I had thrown away. The only person who had access to this stuff was my roommate. The only person that squeezed my shoulders like that was my roommate.

I pulled out a piece of paper that had my name on the top. A letter. I frowned as I quickly made my way back to the desk with the paper. He had used my fear against me keeping me from really looking around. I set the letter down on the desk and almost laughed. Almost...

I felt fear rise inside of me again when I got to the end of the letter. He intended to keep here forever. Dead or alive I was going to stay with him. He mentioned things I had never told anyone. Things I had jotted down and shredded even before I started living with him.

A cup was set down next to me and I jumped. The wolf mask was placed next to it. Then hands were placed on my shoulders once again followed by a gentle squeeze. I felt his breath fan against my ear. I was too scared to turn around.

"How do you think I would have known if you fell asleep?" He asked. "How do you think I would have been able to keep an eye on you if I felt tired?"

His hand wrapped around my neck and he forced me to look up. I was staring at a camera. I swallowed hard and felt his fingers tighten around my neck. I needed to think of something fast. I needed to find a way to keep him from strangling me.

"I like your letter." I said quickly.

He scoffed and kissed my cheek. "I know you don't. Don't try to trick me or I will kill you."

"Well..." I tried to sound calm. "The pen is mightier than the sword."

Before he had a chance to respond I jabbed the pen backward in the general direction I thought his eyes were. I heard a sudden squelch and gagged. I might have written gruesome shit but I've never actually seen, heard, smelt or touched anything gruesome in person.

I didn't want to look at my roommate but I did. I had made his eye explode basically. I gagged again as I watched him claw at his face screaming. I shoved the letter into my pocket and ran.

(2000 Words)