Disclaimer: I own nothing for the duration.
Inspired by the line "I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me" from Paparazzi by Lady Gaga, which I actually found quite disturbing, and something of an experiment with something new – reviews and constructive criticism would be very much appreciated. Thank you for reading :)
It was a cold and wretched night, wrapped in a cloying silence with shadows that seemed to stretch on forever. Even the moon had abandoned the world below behind a slab of cloud. Everything was muted and grey except for the glaring spots of yellow light thrown down by street lamps. Things seemed to shift and watch in the dark places, and movement flickered half-seen at the corner of her vision as the young actress stepped out in to the blackness.
An icy breeze whispered through the air, teasing her hair and ghosting across her skin like a spider's touch. She shuddered at the chill caress. It almost hurt to breath and she exhaled in vaporous plumes that were instantly stolen away by the wind. In daylight the lingering menace had not been there, it was just her imagination running wild. She pulled her scarf tighter, hugged her coat more closely around her thin frame, and began to walk. Her footsteps thundered in the eerie stillness.
It wasn't far. The casting meeting had gone on longer than she had ever thought possible, and so she'd missed the last public transport available, but she lived close enough to walk. The director had kept her back for a talk, so she was now alone, but that was alright. She didn't have enough money for a taxi and she'd feel silly ringing anyone to ask for a lift. It was only half a mile. It wasn't far.
Something moved as she passed an alley and her throat constricted. A faint squeak quelled her scream and she laughed at her own jumpiness. It was just a mouse. Her laughter was a lonely sound, obscene and misplaced, and soon trailed off into nothing. She licked her lips before resuming her walk at a faster pace.
Her gaze flicked back and forth, jumping to inspect every fluttering paper, cat and swaying sign, her body clenching with every horrific sight that turned out harmless. She was so focussed on what her eyes took in that she almost missed the sound.
The heels she wore for the casting meeting, the best she owned, made a clacking sound. Buried and masked beneath the clacks, barely audible, was another set of footsteps. Heavier, lower and perfectly in time with her own.
Her muscles tightened and a tingling dread blossomed throughout her entire body. She increased her pace and shivered as the footsteps changed to match. Wasn't it just an echo or something? Surely it was just her imagination, there was no one behind her really. She was just scaring herself with her own footfalls sounding strange to her ears. Her mind was ready to accept the rationalisation, but her heart continued to beat like a firing piston.
There was only one way to find out. Her knuckles turned white as gripped her bag-strap. She had to turn around and look. It was such a simple thing, just a glance over the shoulder to confirm the street behind her was empty, but the idea made her shiver so hard she nearly lost her footing.
It took six paces for her to work up the courage. She stopped dead. There was no sound. She almost breathed a sigh of relief that no fumbling footsteps reached her ears and turning around became just a little easier.
Sight had misled her and sound alerted her. Both had distracted her into ignoring every other sense. Though, even if she had registered the increasingly strong scent of aftershave or that the cold breeze at the back of her neck had turned into warm human breath, it would still probably have been too late.