My name is Averna Vivian Lane, or rather, that is the name I go by. My birth name has been long gone, wiped off the face of the Earth along with the unfortunate souls who gave it to me.
An artist by trade and not a successful one at that, and this profession demands avaibility, which is exactly why I found myself returning from a delivery half-drenched on a Saturday evening.
The month of July brings heavy rain to most places in the northern hemisphere. This city is no exception. After three long hours of showers ,the evening sky was tinged with a purple hue as dusk settled in.
The weather makes me reminiscent of the only memories I have of my childhood ,of a woman cradling me as i gazed into the horizon on a rainy afternoon, watching as the elusive sun ducked behind the clouds.
Somewhere far away, in a little town surrounded by mountains, cowherds and shepherds return to their homes, singing as the sun seeps below the horizon. It makes me wonder ,would I be as carefree as them if things had turned out differently. The caregivers I had looking after me in the latter part of my childhood never answered the questions I had about the earlier years, and soon, I was taught about the consequences of speaking out of turn. But that is a tale for another time
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
My residential apartment was still a few blocks away. The dimming daylight would probably disappear by the time I reach. Not having walked more than three yards, I felt an eerie presence trail at my heel from within the evening shadows, moving slowly yet swiftly.
Number one rule of when you're being followed is that donot wonder into secluded areas and number two is, if you live alone donot walk home as that discloses your address. My lifestyle has granted me perfect awareness of these facts, yet considering today's circumstances, failing the first criterion is inevitable. The rain has driven home all pedestrians, and my vicinity is quite far from the main road. Thus, not a single soul was in sight.
I kept walking at my usual pace lest the person learns that I'm aware of their presence and resorts to brute force or violence . After a few minutes , I reached an alley way that screamed dangerous ,the embodiment of a classic thriller movie murder site, the type of place where, for some unknown reason every victim wonders into, leaving the audience face-palming in frustration.
Unfortunately for me, it was either moving forward into the alley or turning around. The latter was out of question since by now, the stalker had given up all effort of hiding themselves because in case of a confrontation, my disadvantageous situation was quite obvious, and since I did not want to die so young, I strode in with confident steps. About halfway through, the sun had completely set , there was only one lamp post marking the approximate mid-point of the alley, It suddenly struck me that the light footsteps behind me had vanished. Before I could make sure a figure collided with me.
When I looked up, I saw a pair of unmistakable golden eyes that glinted under the lamp light.
