A/N: This fic is loosely based off a true story an older friend of mine told me. Years ago a man was stalking her and making her life hell, but because Queensland in Australia only introduced stalking laws in 1993 the police were unable to do anything until he actually attempted breaking into her house. Scary stuff.
I want this story to make you feel nervous, to have you on the edge of your seat and guessing till the end. Enjoy!
Chapter One.
Roxas couldn't remember the exact day when the phone calls had first begun, but in hindsight he wished he had. Maybe he'd been receiving them for a lot longer than he thought, possibly filing away the strange, silent calls away in the same category as bothersome telemarketers or broken connections.
Not one to ignore a ringing telephone he'd always picked up the receiver, said 'hello' a couple of times, heard nothing and hung up. But when his home phone had begun ringing randomly at three in the morning, and his constant litanies of hello were going unanswered, he'd uneasily started paying attention.
There was breathing.
There was always someone breathing on the other end, and no matter what Roxas said, the other person would never say a word. The calls had bored him, then annoyed him, and now, unfortunately, they were unnerving him. He'd tried sounding indifferent, and then becoming increasingly frustrated with the persistent caller – demanding to know what the person wanted, or if they'd had their fun could they now kindly fuck off? Anything! But the caller never made a sound except to continue breathing steadily into his ear.
He'd taken to unplugging his home phone from the wall at nights, thinking that that would be the end of it, but that had only given him roughly 24 hours of respite until he started getting the silent calls to his mobile, too. How the fuck had they gotten his mobile number? At this stage he was more angry than worried and just stopped answering any calls from numbers he didn't recognise. And that was another thing – it was never the same number. Sometimes private, sometimes a number, but always the same, damn thing. It was bullshit, and Roxas still firmly believed that the asshole on the other end would eventually get tired of their stupid little machinations.
If he'd thought ignoring the calls would be the way to make them stop he'd terribly underestimated this person's tenacity. He began to nervously consider getting the police involved when he woke up to 73 missed calls – 73, and felt a lead weight drop into the bottom of his stomach when finally, one day, he picked up the receiver on his work phone to hear that same, endless silence.
Whoever this person was, they were subtly sending Roxas a message. They knew his mobile number, they knew where he lived, and now they knew where he worked.
His nerves were becoming frayed. Every time his iPhone vibrated, every time his office phone rang out, his heart would beat faster in his chest, and he felt lightheaded and anxious. This person was getting to him, and he didn't know how to make it stop.
And now, as he stood next to his mailbox holding a small, neatly folded piece of paper between his stiff, trembling fingers, he knew that this was no longer something he could fervently wish away.
His eyes traced over the neatly typed letters again as his body reacted almost violently. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, and his heart slammed against his ribcage painfully. His lungs seized on what minute oxygen he managed to suck in between his teeth as his brain caught up and the words fully registered.
'Have you checked the back door?'
His eyes snapped so quickly to the right he felt a sharp stab of pain in his neck as he looked up the small set of stairs leading up to the front door of his house. The house stood quietly, dark and silent in the evening's suppressive heat. Nothing looked out of place from where he stood, but as the first bead of sweat clinging to his dampened hair made its way down the left side of his forehead and slowly down his cheek, he knew his feet would take him no further.
Six little words and he was a mess. This was it. He couldn't recall ever being so frightened in his entire life. Unconsciously he crushed the small piece of paper tightly in his fist. Why were they doing this? What did they want?
Vmmmmmmm….vmmmmmmm…
Roxas' feet nearly left the ground, his body jerking as his iPhone began vibrating ominously in his pocket. Still clutching at the small ball of paper crammed tightly in his fist, he reached into his suit pants and pulled out the phone.
It was a private number.
A growl of frustration tore past his lips as he angrily punched the red decline button. His relief was short-lived as he warily scanned his surroundings, slowly taking in the neatly trimmed box hedges his neighbour was so proud of, the beat up old truck parked in the driveway directly across from his, and the bitumen road in between, radiating the day's long heat. He no longer thought it paranoid to assume this asshole was probably watching him from somewhere close by, waiting to see how their note had been handled, and relishing in his unease and dread.
His hand clenched tightly around the phone still in his hand as he looked back up towards his quietly, waiting house. Sense reassured him that the back door was locked. He always locked up properly every morning before leaving for work, but the fear told him that something as simple as a door lock would do nothing in deterring a stalker.
Taking a deep breath of the night's stifling, warm air, he brushed the sweat off his forehead before unlocking his phone and opening his contacts. He wasn't sure of how to handle this situation anymore, and it was probably about time he confided in someone about it.
In case I go missing, his brain supplied unhelpfully.
His thumb stopped on Axel's name and tapped the little blue phone icon. If there was one person who would know what to do, Axel would be the one.
-0-
"Jesus, Rox, how long has this been going on for?"
Roxas avoided meeting his friend's worried expression and stared wearily down the neck of the beer he was holding. His hands clasped around the bottle, feeling the cool condensation chill his skin.
"I can't remember when the calls first began, but it's gotta be about three weeks since I started taking notice." He looked up into Axel's eyes, the frustration and concern clearly mirrored there.
"I thought it was just some dickhead playing games, but now I'm not so sure." He took a long swig from his beer, the bottle making a small popping sound as it separated from his lips.
Axel watched him carefully, his mouth pulled into a hard, firm line. "I think you need to go to the police. Don't wait Roxas, whoever this guy is, he knows what he's doing, and I don't want to see it get worse."
They were sitting in Roxas' living room. The tv was on, but neither of them were paying any attention to it. Axel had come over within ten minutes of Roxas calling him, and hadn't been home from work yet himself. Axel had since thrown off his suit coat and loosened his tie. His riot of spiked, red hair cascaded around his shoulders.
Roxas had explained the situation to his friend in minute detail before they had both cautiously checked the entirety of the house together. Nothing had been out of place. All the doors and windows were still securely locked, and no traces of attempted entry were evident anywhere.
His mind finally at ease, Roxas had pushed Axel onto the couch before ordering a couple of pizzas and pulling cold beers from the fridge.
"Well whoever it is, they've really succeeded in freaking me out," he sighed, sliding his feet out of his shoes. "I might knock off early tomorrow and go put in a statement."
Axel nodded in agreement. "I think that'd be a good idea." He set his half-finished beer down as he made to grab for another slice of pizza. "Cowards do this kind of shit, Rox. Once he realises the fuzz is involved he'll back right off."
"You really think it's a guy?" Roxas asked, a bit apprehensively. He felt better thinking some overenthusiastic girl was infatuated with him, rather than an overpowering, calculating, male psychopath.
"Do you think anyone you work with would be capable of this?" Axel murmured. "Are you in line for a promotion or something?" He took a bite of his pizza. "Money brings out the psycho in the best of people."
Roxas thought this unlikely, but paranoia was telling him nothing was out of the question. He'd only been working at his current job for roughly four months, but if that was enough time to become good friends with Axel, then it was enough time to make enemies…
"Now that I think about it, there's this guy called Riku who works in marketing. I always notice him staring at me." His head thumped back against the couch as he stared up at the ceiling. "And another guy called Zexion…he's always asking for overtime. He seems like he really needs the money. Maybe I'm ruining his chances for a pay rise."
Axel's shoulder lightly bumped his own. "You'll make yourself sick if you start suspecting everyone around you. At least getting the police involved is a step in the right direction." He gestured towards the crumpled note sitting on the table in front of them. Roxas had smoothed it back out. "I'd say that's no good for fingerprints now, especially since I've handled it, too, but give it to them anyway. It's still evidence."
Roxas looked down again at the beer in his hand. The liquid inside was now warm and stale, the heat from his hands having ruined it. "That's easy for you to say…" he mumbled. God, how could he trust anyone?
Axel beside him said nothing; deciding instead to slide his arm around Roxas' shoulders, his hand gently carding through Roxas' unruly hair. Roxas shivered lightly as Axel's warmth pressed into him. He could feel his heart beat singing blood faster through his veins. It wasn't the fear this time.
Axel slowly pulled Roxas' head slightly to the side, pressing it against his own. "We're gonna get through this, Rox, I promise." His long fingers massaged briefly against Roxas' scalp before pulling away. Determined green eyes locked with worried blue. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
Roxas swallowed heavily at the intensity he could see in Axel's eyes. His friend's promise sounded too much like something a lover would say…
Axel sighed reluctantly. "I better get going, but the shops are open late tomorrow. I'll go with you after work to buy some deadbolts if you want?" He stood, draining the last dregs of his beer. "Would be good to look at installing an alarm system, too."
"Yeah, definitely, I'm gonna try and knock off early anyhow," Roxas replied. He stood too, and began walking Axel to the door.
Axel opened the front door and scrutinised the quiet street outside. It was just after nine, and the neighbourhood lay silent. It was still quite warm, a faint breeze stirring the tallest trees. The porch stairs and the crude wooden fence beyond that which separated the front yard from the sidewalk was splashed with bare, artificial light.
He stepped out and located his shoes, then clapped a firm hand on Roxas' shoulder. "I'll let you know what time I finish tomorrow. Try and get some sleep."
"Yeah…" Roxas answered resignedly. His teeth started chewing his inner cheek, the stiflingly warm breeze prickling at his skin.
He watched Axel walk down the short path towards the street, unlock his car and jump in. The engine roared into life before the car smoothly pulled away from the curb. Roxas flinched as Axel had the audacity to beep the horn a couple of times in farewell, but he couldn't help the smile that immediately pulled at his lips.
He'd only moved to Hollow Bastion four months ago, landing a job with a large company who looked after web design and marketing. He'd been Axel's replacement, as the older man was something of a freelance web designer and was moving on to better opportunities. The outrageous hair had gotten his attention initially, but when Axel had turned around to greet him and shaken his hand, it was like a fire had been ignited inside of him. Where have you been all my life? He'd thought, Axel's smile so full of wicked promise, and his vivid green eyes had made Roxas go weak at the knees.
They had only worked together for a week before Roxas had taken over Axel's position, but they had become fast friends. Roxas felt like he'd known Axel for years. He couldn't imagine his life without him. Unfortunately, the man of Roxas' dreams was as straight as a fucking arrow – well as far as he knew anyway. Axel had brought along a petite woman named Xion to his going away party, who had seemed too quiet and restrained for the fiery man in Roxas' opinion. Xion had proven him wrong however as the night had continued, holding her liquor exceedingly well and swearing like a sailor every chance she got.
Axel had told him that he and Xion had since broken up, but it still didn't change the fact that Roxas couldn't have him. He wished he had the guts to attempt seducing him anyway, but feared losing his friendship. It didn't help when Axel got overly affectionate with him. There was only so much he'd be able to take of that before wanting to take it further.
Returning to the living room, Roxas grabbed up the pizza boxes and empty beer bottles, and dumped the whole lot in the sink. He'd worry about cleaning up properly tomorrow when he wasn't so exhausted. Flicking the tv off and lights as we went, he systematically pulled every window and door to make sure they were firmly shut and locked before going to shower. He didn't need to think twice about unplugging the home phone from the wall. He'd be damned if that asshole was getting him out of bed at three in the morning again. Really, he could have the landline disconnected altogether…everyone called his mobile these days.
It was only in the warm, steamy confines of his bathroom that he realised that his phone hadn't rung as much as usual after calling Axel to come around. He watched the soap suds travel in slow rivulets down through the hairs on his legs as he hoped to God that didn't mean something worse was going to happen. Had the stalker seen Axel arrive? Had he still been watching when Axel left?
He shut off the water sharply, listening intently in the silence. His nerves jangled painfully as he strained to hear any odd sounds outside the bathroom door.
He heard nothing.
With a deep breath he tentatively stepped out of the shower and pulled his towel around him.
Drying himself, he scrubbed the towel through his hair quickly before lobbing it into the bathtub and making his way to his bedroom. He'd checked everything and knew the house was secure. He tried to convince himself that if anyone tried to break in while he slept he'd be able to wake up in time and defend himself.
It was only when he got under the covers he realised he hadn't brushed his teeth, but as his eyelids dropped shut and his body began sinking into oblivion, he decided fairly quickly that it could wait for tomorrow, too.