Thank you so much for the reviews and favorites and all that. I appreciate the support. :)
Here's the next chapter. Enjoy:
xxxxxx
Chapter 2
xxxxxx
Angela glanced over at the clock on her stove as she finished washing her dishes. It was six forty-six. Dwight was due to come over at seven. He was very rarely even a minute early or late because he knew it bothered her if he showed up before she was ready or left her waiting. He'd likely be here promptly on the hour, so that left her exactly fourteen minutes to kill.
She dried her plate, fork, knife, and cup and put them away. She always did the dishes immediately after eating so they'd never pile up. Living with only cats was a pretty simple, yet sometimes lonely way to go about life. She glanced down as her cat Sprinkles rubbed against her ankles and meowed.
"I already fed you, Sprinkles." Angela smiled down at her. Sprinkles meowed again. "I don't have anything!" Angela laughed as she showed the cat her empty hands. Sometimes her cats would get clingy when they thought she was making food. "I was just doing the dishes," Angela told her.
Sprinkles seemed to understand that she wasn't getting any more dinner and trotted off.
Angela dried her hands on dish towel hanging on the front of her stove and then made her way into the living room. She looked at her reflection in a mirror she had hanging on her wall. She wanted to look her best for Dwight. Though she knew he'd find her appealing no matter what, she still tried to put in a bit of effort. Angela was not one of those women who would be content to let her looks slip just because she was no longer looking for a man. She wanted Dwight to always be impressed by how she looked, and wanted to feel the same way about herself. She fixed her hair, straightened her shirt, and then went and sat down on her couch. Dwight would be here within the next ten minutes.
Sighing, Angela crossed her legs and tapped her fingertips on her knee. She wished he'd show up early this time. Even though she actually very much appreciated him being exactly on time, she was getting impatient. It was good to show up when expected, so as to not catch anyone off-guard or keep them waiting, but lately she found that she'd get herself so excited that she'd end up impatiently waiting anyway, even knowing exactly when he was due to arrive.
Angela frowned when she heard her doorbell ring. She looked over at the clock on the wall. It was six fifty-one. Dwight was never early. Maybe it was someone else... She couldn't imagine who'd be visiting this late though. It wouldn't be the mail man or a salesman. It was winter, so it was dark already.
She stood and made her way over to the door, peering out the peep hole before opening it. She didn't see anyone. Maybe they' stepped to the side. She tried to move her face slightly one way or the other to see more space outside. She couldn't see any trace of anyone at all. Not even a car out by the road.
"Hello?" she called out. She didn't really want to open the door now. Why would someone ring her doorbell and then hide? It was creepy. It reminded her of horror films - and she hated horror films.
No one replied. "Is someone out there?" she spoke a bit louder as she scowled at the closed door.
Still, no one answered. Maybe she'd imagined the bell ringing. Or maybe there was just some kind of blind-spot that she couldn't see through the peep hole, and maybe her voice didn't carry through the wooden door and whoever had rang didn't hear her asking who they were. She reached toward the lock, but then hesitated.
"Who's out there?" she spoke in a louder, more assertive voice.
When no one answered, she started feeling angry. Someone was messing with her, and she didn't appreciate it. She wasn't scared of them either. They were probably trying to scare her, but it wasn't going to work. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, staring out at her front porch and scowling into the darkness. Her porch-light illuminated the porch itself, but not much else. She couldn't see very far out toward the street. No one was there.
"Whoever you are, that's not funny. Don't ring my bell again, or I'll call the police. Jerk!" she shouted out to seemingly no one and slammed the door closed behind her. Whoever it was, hopefully they didn't stick around long enough to see Dwight arrive. She didn't need anyone - not even her neighbors who she never even talked to - to know that she and Dwight were seeing each other.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes in annoyance as she made her way back toward her couch, but quickly found herself wincing and shrinking down when every single light in her house suddenly turned off.
Angela swallowed nervously at the deafening silence and cold darkness that surrounded her. The usual humming noise of various appliances and the sound of warm air flowing through her air vents was gone. People never seemed to realize how much noise they were constantly surrounded by until they were unexpectedly enveloped in complete silence.
She certainly hoped it was just a coincidence that someone had been messing with her doorbell and her power went out immediately after, but the two strange events happening together like this seemed like anything but chance...
She felt around in the dark as her eyes adjusted. If she found her cellphone, she could call the electric company and find out if this was an issue for more than just her own house. Hopefully Dwight would get here soon too, because she was starting to feel pretty nervous. If she had to sit around in the dark with weirdos ringing her bell for no reason, she'd prefer to not have to do so all alone.
Dim moonlight shined in through her windows and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found she could see just enough to avoid walking into things as she spotted her purse across the room, between herself and the front door, on the table where she always left it when she returned home after work.
No sooner than she had located her bag, she heard her front door creaking open. She must have forgotten to re-lock it.
"Dwight?" she called out in a small voice as she shrunk down slightly. She looked toward the door, but it was too dark to see who was walking through it. She could only see a vague silhouette. "Is that you?" she whispered.
There came no answer. Angela wondered if she should go for her phone or run toward the back door. If it was Dwight, he would have said so... He would know standing in the doorway like a creep would scare her, and therefore would never do it.
Angela swallowed as she stared silently at the figure in the doorway. Whoever it was, they still hadn't responded. They weren't coming further inside, but weren't leaving either. They were just standing there, un-moving, silent... It looked like a man, but she still couldn't see anything but his silhouette. He was tall and had broad shoulders. Either he was dressed in all black, or the darkness made him look like he was.
Keeping her eyes on the intruder, she took a small, timid step toward her bag, but quickly found that whoever was standing in her doorway had no plans to let her get to it. As soon as she stepped forward, so did they, with a much larger stride.
Angela gasped a small whimper and stepped backward as she kept staring at the shadowy stranger. For a moment, the mysterious person held still, seemingly watching her and waiting for her to make the next move. Angela was scared to make a move though.
"I think you have the wrong house..." she suggested in an uncertain voice, hoping this guy was just confused or drunk. The alternative was much too frightening for her to want to consider it.
The figure shook his head slowly. Angela narrowed her eyes and frowned as she stared at him. His face was still masked by shadows, but she could swear his features were being covered by more than that. It looked like he was wearing some kind of ski mask, which there was definitely no innocent excuse for. If he'd come into the house by mistake, he wouldn't be dressed up like a criminal. No... This was something he had planned and was doing very purposefully.
"Get out... Right now... or I'll call the police," she finally threatened in a shaking voice, even though she had no way of doing so. There was no chance of her getting to her phone without this stranger ambushing her before she ever made it to her purse.
She winced and stepped back again as the dark-clad stranger took another large step forward.
"I'll scream," she added as she continued taking small steps backward without looking where she was going. She gasped as she bumped into her coffee table and nearly tripped over it.
The figure's head shook slowly back and forth again, silently requesting that she not scream.
Angela frowned. "What do you want? My purse is over there." She gestured toward her bag. "You can just take it," she offered. She was starting to get really, really scared. Whoever this guy was, he was very tall - maybe even taller than Dwight. She didn't know if he was armed, didn't know what his plan was... She'd never had a stranger in a ski mask walk into her house and silently stare at her and close in on her like this. She didn't know how to handle this kind of thing...
She couldn't help but to deliver on her earlier threat and let out a panicked, shrill scream as he suddenly lunged toward her. She stumbled back, tripping over the coffee table yet again as she turned and sprinted toward the back door. Unfortunately, she'd have to make it through a majority of the house before she could reach the door, and the man pursuing her had a much larger stride. She could feel his heavy footsteps vibrating through the store behind her as she ran as fast as she could. He was definitely gaining on her.
Just as she was passing her bedroom door, she felt him grab her by her arms and tug her harshly back. He slammed her face-first against the wall and violently wrestled her arms back behind her.
Angela cried out a pained whimper as she squeezed her eyes shut. Her attacker quickly began working to bind her hands behind her with some kind of thin rope. He bound them tight too, so tight that she couldn't even begin to wriggle her arms free, and could practically feel the cords cutting into her skin.
"Heeelllp!" she screamed before he finished tying her hands and spun her around. She stared up at him with wide, fearful eyes as he pushed her backward through her bedroom door so that she tripped at the foot of her bed and landed on her back against the mattress. She coughed, as landing so roughly had knocked the air out of her lungs.
With a whimper, she struggled to stand, but soon found him climbing on top of her, pinning her down, and pressing his hand against her mouth to keep her from screaming again.
Angela shook her head very slightly. His gloved hand over her face didn't allow her to move much. She stared up into his dark eyes as she gasped pained, frightened breaths which barely managed to reach her lungs through his large hand which also seemed to be covering her nose now. It was unclear whether or not he was trying to restrict her breathing or if he just didn't realize how much of her face his huge hand covered. She whimpered a muffled cry as she struggled to free her hands.
As she continued fighting to throw him off of her, he pressed his hand harder against her face, further restricting her breathing. He glared down into her eyes, with a cold, angry stare. Since he was wearing a ski mask, the only part of his face she could see were his eyes, which seemed to be trying to read hers.
With a pained and frightened groan, Angela weakly squirmed under him. He was so heavy, and his hand on her face was so firmly pressed down, holding her securely in place. She desperately wanted to be able to speak, to beg him to let her go, to tell him he could have any amount of money if he didn't hurt her, to promise him she wouldn't press charges or tell anyone he was ever even here if he just let her go... to do anything at all to save herself from whatever he planned to do to her. She couldn't budge even an inch.
Finally, he moved his hand from her face, but just as she was ready to start screaming for help again, he reached for her throat, wrapping both hands around her neck and starting to squeeze.
Angela felt tears coming to her eyes as she desperately tried to throw his heavy body off of hers and pulled uselessly at her trapped hands. She could feel the thin rope biting into the skin on her wrists as she pulled desperately at her hands. She tried to scream or kick out, but could barely move, and could get no sound beyond a tiny, desperate whimper to escape her lips. She couldn't breathe. He was going to kill her.
It occurred to her as she struggled to inhale even a tiny bit that this was probably the man everyone had been talking about on the news. Unless there was another person viciously strangling people for no reason, Angela could safely say the dark, angry eyes she was desperately staring into were those of the locally notorious Scranton Strangler. As scary as those news stories were, and as paranoid as they made her and everyone else feel, she never honestly dreamed this man would actually come after her. What was a fairly distant and seemingly almost irrational fear had all at once become extremely real. Angela was going to die here - in her own house - a place where she was supposed to feel safe. She was going to be killed right on her own bed. Before long, she'd be nothing but another name on a long list of poor souls whose lives had been stolen by the strangler.
As her attacker continued squeezing his hands around her neck, Angela felt tears streaming from her eyes. She feebly pulled at her arms, feeling the ropes cutting into her wrists even more the more she struggled. She couldn't get free. He was going to strangle her, and there was absolutely no way to even attempt to fight back. He was so much bigger and stronger than she was, and yet he still felt the need to tie her hands behind her before doing this. It was so unfair. She felt so cheated.
Her vision began to grow fuzzy, her ears were filled with a strange ringing sound, and her lungs burned and felt cold at the same time as she heard a faint knock at her front door. Dwight never used the doorbell. She remembered that now. He was here, but it seemed like he was perhaps a few minutes too late. She couldn't call out to him and she could feel that she was very close to losing consciousness. By the time he knew something was wrong, she would likely already be dead...
Fortunately, however, the knock at the door seemed to catch her attacker by surprise. He flinched slightly and loosened his grip around her throat just enough for Angela to manage to let out a small, frantic cry. "Dwight!" she screamed in a weak, strained voice that didn't even sound like hers. It was raspy and hurt her throat, but she couldn't give in. She breathed in a painful, shaking gasp before continuing to call for help. "Dwight!" she cried out again, trying to be louder. "Help me!"
She heard the front door open quite forcefully this time and heard Dwight call out her name in a concerned, confused shout. He sounded so far away, but he was here... He must have heard her, and was serious about throwing the door violently open in order to quickly rush to her aid.
The man hovering over her let out a very slight sound that almost sounded like a growl before tightening his grip for a half a second. He glared down at her and squeezed his hands around her neck before shaking his head, letting go, standing up, and quickly darting out of the room.
Angela gasped pained, frantic, desperate breaths and curled onto her side. She felt more tears streaming from her eyes as she struggled to regain steady breathing. She squeezed her eyes closed and sucked in painful breaths as she heard heavy footsteps quickly approaching the room. She wanted to hope it was Dwight, but was too scared and preoccupied with attempting to breathe to look and confirm that it was him.
Dwight proved that it was in fact him, however, when he rushed to her side, putting his hand gently against her arm and pulling her up into a sitting position. "Angela! What happened!? Are you okay? Who did this to you?" he gasped.
Angela shook her head slightly and started to sob. She let Dwight pull her into an embrace while he grabbed his phone off of his belt and dialed the police. She didn't listen to whatever he was saying into the phone. She just leaned against his chest and cried. She didn't even care that her wrists were still bound. She only cared that he was here with her, holding onto her and keeping her safe. Nothing and no one could hurt her with him here.
After a few moments of him chatting back and forth with the 911 operator, Dwight focused his attention back on Angela. He pressed a button on his phone to put it on speaker and set it down on the bed before starting to work on untying Angela's wrists.
"Are you hurt?" Dwight wondered as he loosened the ropes.
Angela shook her head and sniffed back tears. She honestly didn't know if she was significantly injured. She didn't think she was, but it was really hard to say. She was just happy she could breathe again.
"Are you still there, sir?" the voice on the phone spoke up. "Officers and an ambulance are on the way. Please stay on the phone until they get there. Do you know which way the suspect went? Is it possible he is still in the house?"
Dwight looked questioningly down at Angela, who shrugged. She only knew that he left this particular room. She had no idea where he went.
"We don't know." Dwight spoke up, answering the dispatcher's question. "I think I scared him away, but I didn't actually see him."
"Do you know if he has any sort of weapon?" The dispatcher continued.
Angela shook her head and shrugged again, letting Dwight answer the question neither of them knew the answer to.
"We don't know if he's armed. I think he ran off though. I don't think he's here," Dwight told her and focused back on finishing untying Angela's wrists with careful, gentle hands.
Once Angela's wrists were untied, she wrapped her arms around Dwight's torso, clinging to him rather desperately as she laid her head against his chest. As she sniffed and breathed in trembling, painful breaths, Dwight hugged her close.
"You're okay, Monkey," Dwight assured her as he moved his hand carefully over her back and placed the other gently against the back of her head. "You'll be alright. You're safe," he spoke in a reassuring voice.
Angela closed her eyes as she leaned against him and listened to his voice as he spoke. She wasn't paying attention to his words anymore. He may have not even been talking to her - the 911 operator was being very needy. Angela didn't care what he was saying though. She was just glad he was speaking at all. Just his voice alone put her at ease.
She'd been so sure a few minutes ago that she was about to die, but he had shown up at the last second and literally saved her life. For this moment, she needed nothing more than Dwight's presence.
xxxxxx
