"Monsters are real, and they live not under our beds, but in the shadows of our minds, waiting for the right moment to step into the light."
Third Person Point of View
5 years ago.
It was supposed to be a day of joy, a celebration of Vasilisa Smirnov's transition into adulthood. Her father had spared no expense in making the occasion special, planning an extravagant party that would be the talk of the town. The grand estate was adorned with shimmering lights, and the sound of laughter and music filled the air as guests mingled in the opulent ballroom. Lisa, as her friends affectionately called her, was radiant in her elegant dress, her smile bright as she greeted each guest with the poise expected of someone of her stature.
But beneath the surface, a storm was brewing.
Unbeknownst to the guests, a shadow had been lurking on the fringes of Lisa's life for months. Her stalker had been carefully plotting, watching her every move, learning her routines, and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The obsession had taken root long before Lisa had even noticed the subtle signs—a misplaced item here, a strange phone call there. By the time she realized she was being watched, it was already too late.
The stalker's fixation on Lisa had reached a fever pitch by the time of her 18th birthday. For him, this day was not just a milestone in her life; it was a symbolic moment, a twisted rite of passage that he believed only he could bestow upon her. The idea that anyone else could claim her attention, let alone her affection, was intolerable. In his deranged mind, Lisa belonged to him, and he would make sure she knew it.
As the night wore on, Lisa excused herself from the party to catch a moment of solitude. The festivities were overwhelming, and she needed a breath of fresh air. She slipped away unnoticed, making her way to the secluded garden at the back of the estate, where the night was calm, and the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the celebration.
It was there, in the quiet darkness, that the stalker made his move.
He had been waiting, hiding among the shadows, his breath shallow with anticipation. As Lisa stepped into the garden, the thrill of the hunt surged through him. He moved silently, blending into the darkness until he was close enough to reach out and touch her.
Lisa sensed something was wrong too late. A hand clamped over her mouth, and before she could scream, she was dragged backward into the dense foliage. Panic set in, her heart racing as she struggled against her attacker, but his grip was like iron. He whispered her name, the sound of it sending chills down her spine. She recognized the voice, though she couldn't place where she had heard it before. It was familiar yet distorted by the madness that fueled his obsession.
He forced a cloth over her nose and mouth, the sickly sweet smell of chloroform filling her senses. She fought against the darkness creeping into her vision, her struggles growing weaker as the drug took effect. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the grotesque smile of the red clown mask staring down at her, a perverse mockery of the joy she should have felt that night.
When Lisa awoke, she was in a different place altogether. The cold concrete beneath her was unforgiving, and the faint hum of machinery echoed around her. Her head pounded, and her vision was blurry, but she could make out the outline of the room—an abandoned warehouse, stripped of any warmth or life. She was alone, tied to a chair, her hands and feet bound tightly with ropes.
The reality of her situation crashed down on her, and fear took hold. She was at the mercy of a man who had been stalking her for months, a man who had now revealed himself to be more dangerous than she had ever imagined.
Present Time
Massim paced the waiting room, his phone clutched in his hand. His normally carefree demeanor was gone, replaced by an anxiety that gnawed at him. He had called Lisa's father as soon as his necklace started to beep. The man had been out of town, attending to some business, but the urgency in Massim's voice had sent him rushing back to the city. Massim was a bit scared of him. Even in this state of confusion, his prescence demanded and commanded the attention of many.
"It's him, isn't it?" Lisa's father asked as soon as he arrived, his voice tight with fear and anger. He didn't need to say the name; they both knew who he was talking about.
Massim nodded, his throat dry. "Yes, sir. It's him. The stalker... he's back."
Lisa's father's face hardened, the lines of age and worry deepening around his eyes. Five years ago, this man had nearly destroyed his life, taking his daughter from him and leaving scars that had never fully healed. And now, after all this time, he had returned.
"He attacked her in a public bathroom," Massim continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "She was... she was hurt badly. They found her in a pool of blood. She's in surgery now, but..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. The fear of losing her was too overwhelming.
Lisa's father stood still, his fists clenched at his sides. Memories of the last time this had happened flooded his mind—the night of Lisa's eighteenth birthday. The stalker had been planning his attack for months, watching, waiting. He had taken her, drugged her, and would have...If it hadn't been for his connections with the Army, if the special ops team hadn't found her in time.
He didn't want to think about what could have happened.
Massim noticed the fear in the older man's eyes and tried to offer some hope. "The doctors are doing everything they can," he said, though he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Lisa's father or himself.
But the older man wasn't listening. His mind was already racing, trying to figure out how this had happened. How the stalker had managed to find his daughter again after all these years. He had done everything to protect her, to keep her safe. And still, it hadn't been enough.
He was a failure. If her mother were here, she would hate him just as their daughter hated him.
As they waited, the minutes felt like hours, stretching on with unbearable tension. Neither of them spoke, each lost in their own thoughts, haunted by the same questions. What if she didn't make it? What if the stalker came back to finish what he started?
Finally, the door to the waiting room swung open, and a doctor stepped inside, his expression grave. Lisa's father turned to him, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't need to ask the question; it was written all over his face.
"She's stable for now," the doctor said, his voice calm but serious. "But she's in a temporary coma, The head wound was severe, and there's internal bleeding. She should wake up in a day or two."
A heavy silence filled the room as the words sank in. Massim felt a lump in his throat, but he forced himself to remain strong. Lisa needed them to be strong, to believe that she would pull through this.
Lisa's father nodded, his eyes filled with determination. "I'll protect her," he said, more to himself than to anyone else.
But deep down, both men knew that the fight was far from over. The stalker was still out there, watching, waiting. And until he was caught, Lisa would never truly be safe.