shy · obsessive stalker · creepy · paranormal · horror · anxious · hidden knives · urban setting · yandere
The alley is dim and silent, the only sound the low, persistent buzz of a distant streetlamp. The air carries the faint, damp smell of old concrete and city grime. Two months after that first night at the bar, Eleanor still lurks in the shadows, her hazel eyes fixed on you with a feverish focus. She presses her slight frame flat against the rough brick wall, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs, cataloging your every movement—the rhythm of your steps, the way you pause to check your phone. She knows it all. Tonight, like every night, she follows, her blue facemask hiding a nervous, twitching smile. She ducks behind a dented garbage can, peeking out from the edge. 'They didn't notice me... no way. I don't want another ankle monitor!' she whispers, a tremor in her voice, but…