Here's chapter 1. I hope you like it.

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Chelsea Randall was in great pain. All she wanted to do was take her bike out for a nice ride, absorb the sunlight…but a gaping pothole sending her flying out of her seat was not part of the plan.

The little nine-year-old stared at the bloody scrape on her knee, unable to hold back her tears. She looked around, praying that her dad would magically show up and take her home, but no such luck. All she could do was pull her knees to her chest and glance around the empty street.

"Chelsea?"

She gasped slightly, turning towards the voice. Her heart sank slightly as she saw her older neighbor, Stan, exit his house and approach her.

She'd seen him around a little bit. Her father had borrowed a pair of hedge shearers from him after they'd first moved into the neighborhood. He wasn't very talkative, but he was friendly enough. Still, something about him struck a false note with her. He just gave her the creeps.

When he finally reached her after crossing the street, Chelsea tried not to meet his eyes. Stan was oblivious to this as he knelt down next to the teary-eyed girl and looked at her knee.

"Oh, you poor thing," he muttered, reaching into his pocket. "Here."

Stan pulled out a handkerchief and carefully gripped Chelsea's wounded leg with his other hand. He gently started to dab at the scrape. The girl winced in pain, but after a little while, the bleeding slowed down. She glanced at her neighbor out of impulse.

He seemed to be concentrated on her injury, so he didn't notice the child's stares. Her young eyes were drawn to the man's odd appearance. His clothes were slightly worn out, and his glasses were very dark in contrast with his deathly pale skin. After noticing several sores and dry patches on Stan's face, Chelsea made herself look away.

"Come on," Stan said, taking her arm and gradually lifting her up. "Let's get you inside, and I'll call your dad."

The girl reluctantly complied. After being set onto the dusty couch, she listened as Stan spoke with her father in the other room. The overall appearance of the house made her skin crawl. It was dark, musty, and quite eerie. When her dad finally picked her up, she was relieved.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said, glancing at her in the windshield mirror. "That was awfully nice of Stan to help you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," she muttered.

Still, as grateful as she was for the help, Chelsea couldn't shake off the creepy aura she'd felt from him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Buzz, buzz, buzz!

Chelsea shot up in her bed and blindly felt around for her cell. Once she got it, she turned off the alarm before flopping back down onto the mattress. No sooner had she done so did her bedroom door open, revealing Roy, her father.

"Chelsea, time to get up."

"Five more minutes," the girl muttered, her voice muffled by the sheets.

"Come on, you don't wanna be late."

After relishing those final few seconds wrapped in her blankets, Chelsea finally got up.

"Why're you up so early?" she asked, noticing her father's unusual attire.

"I have a job interview today. I've gotta go to work right afterwards, so you probably won't see me until you get back tomorrow."

Chelsea nodded, remembering her own plans. After school, she had to report to her own cashiering job at the supermarket. She had plans to go to her friend Amanda's house for a sleepover once she clocked out of work, so she was looking forward to that.

"Good luck," she said as her father went out the door, shutting it behind him.

She sighed deeply before turning towards her closet to pick an outfit.

Another day in paradise…

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Stan took a breath after placing the urn onto the shelf with the others. His insides beamed with pride at his actions. The remains were that of a woman he'd killed for wrongfully taking a parking spot.

Good. One less bit of scum on the streets.

After straightening himself up a bit, he got into his car and drove off, heading to the grocery store. It wasn't too far away from his place, which was one of his favorite things about it. He didn't like straying too far from his comfort zone.

Once he pulled into the small parking lot, Stan wasted no time in walking towards the entrance. However, before going in, he moved his hat down the front of his head a bit more. He wanted to avoid as much human contact as he could.

Stan went in and took one of the shopping baskets, wrapping his elbow tightly around the handle. He took a quick glance around him before proceeding to the nearest aisle. But before he could take another step, he noticed something…someone.

Chelsea…

The little girl he'd helped out all those years ago was behind one of the registers, although she wasn't so little anymore. Probably around fourteen or fifteen. At the sight of her, Stan stood up a little bit more on his way to the produce section. It was as if the mere presence of Chelsea had strengthened his spine and boosted his confidence.

Most people are dirty, mean…not her. She's innocent.

As he looked through the grapefruits, Stan looked forward to saying hello.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Oh, no…

Chelsea's insides felt like they were shrinking as she noticed her odd neighbor approaching her register. She still hadn't gotten over her squeamish feelings about him. Nevertheless, she mustered her customer service skills and forced a smile as he reached her.

"Hi," she said.

"Well, hello there."

"How are you today?"

"I'm doing fine." Stan started putting his items on the belt. "How about you?"

"Good, thanks."

As Chelsea started ringing up Stan's groceries, one of her co-workers, Brian, walked over and started placing them into a paper bag. Chelsea smiled at him. He went to school with her, and was in her history class. He flashed her a little wink, making her blush. She'd had a small crush on him for quite some time; it was one of the reasons she took a job at the store.

"What're you doing tonight, Chelsea?" Brian asked, smiling widely. "My buds and I were gonna go down to the diner. Feel like tagging along?"

Chelsea's heart raced, and she prayed her face wasn't too red.

"Oh, I'm actually going to Amanda's at around eight tonight for a sleepover."

"Too bad. Does your dad approve? I thought he didn't like you going out."

"No, he's fine with my girl friends. Besides, he's not gonna be home until really late."

"Ah." Brian finished packing Stan's things. "Maybe next time."

"Maybe," Chelsea replied with a smile of her own.

Stan tried not to roll his eyes at the young love. Still, he smiled as Chelsea handed him his receipt.

"Have a good day," she said.

"Thanks, you too. Say hi to your dad for me."

"Okay."

As he approached the door, Stan stopped to look at the newspapers near the service desk. While he was glancing at the front page, he couldn't help but hear the exchange at the register he'd just left.

"D'you know that guy?" Brian asked, leaning against the register counter.

"Yeah, he's a neighbor of mine."

"Huh. Weird dude."

Chelsea glanced over at Stan, and once she was sure he wouldn't hear her, she lowered her voice a bit before speaking.

"He creeps me out."

She found herself releasing her entire opinion, not just to impress her crush, but because she finally had an outlet to let it loose. Her dad was convinced that Stan was just a lonely man who was a bit quieter than most people, and would never listen to any of her complaints about him.

"And you live on the same street as him?" Brian asked incredulously.

"Yup. But I try not to think about it too much. He's…he's just a freak."

After a few moments, she glanced over at Stan's position once more, and was relieved to see that he was gone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Stan slammed the door to his car a bit rougher than normal, and when he drove off, he had to restrain himself from going too fast.

The words he'd heard Chelsea describe him with truly tore his insides to shreds. True, he was used to people saying stuff about him; he would always deal with them accordingly. But this was Chelsea. Chelsea, the girl he'd gone out of his way to help, one of the only people he truly believed were good and untainted.

The rage and hurt sizzled inside him, but he made himself calm down. Unfortunately for Chelsea, Stan remembered what she'd said about being by herself that night before going to her friend's house. Her dad wouldn't be there to save her.

Oh, Chelsea…you're going to regret saying those things. Enjoy today while you can.

A small smile appeared on Stan's face as he pulled into his driveway.

I'll see you tonight.

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Let me know what you think.