This chapter is more of a filler, so it'll be boring and short. Sorry about that.

I'll be back.

Annabeth growled as her stalker's words filled her ears again. On reflex and maybe a bit of paranoia, she looked up from her bed, but nothing and no one was there. The teenager sighed, relaxing her tense muscles. It had been five days since Jeff's intrusion into her house, and Annabeth had looked left and right for how the hell he'd gotten in, as were the police, whom had just questioned her at their station for the umpteenth time.

So far, their efforts had been unsuccessful.

And Annabeth had a sinking feeling that it was going to stay that way.

Letting loose another irritable snarl, the girl rolled over, tangling her legs in the sheets. Why did she have to be the one to catch the eye of that damn killer? Well, being stalked by Jeff wasn't a fate she'd wish upon any other girl, but still...ugh.

This fucking sucks. School used to be my biggest worry. Now I'd give anything for it to go back to being like that.

What the hell was she going to do?

God damn it.

Annabeth steeled her nerves. Laying on her bed moping wasn't going to help anything. She had to somehow develop at least minimal countermeasures against Jeff.

What countermeasures?

How do you stave off a person that can't be killed?

Or found?

A person that's not even human?

First off, though, she had to focus on herself. Annabeth knew she was no match for Jeff physically and likely would never be. But she wanted to become at the very least a little bit better in self-defense. Carrying a weapon around would probably also be beneficial.

Unfortunately, Annabeth was only fifteen. What weapon was legal to be carried around at her age?

Pocket knife?

Nope.

Taser?

Nope.

Gun?

Definitely nope.

There was nothing - at least, nothing that she could think of.

Annabeth heaved herself out of bed and stumbled wearily over to her desk, looking for something. It was a pencil her father had bought for her a few months ago, with a protruding metal tip. (nice-tip-of-Paper-Mate-Logo-II)

Her hand closed around the pencil and she gripped it like it was her lifeline. The possibility that it could be was very plausible.

Not a gun, not a taser, not even a knife, for God's sake, but it was better than nothing. After all, she thought, examining the tip, being stabbed with this would be rather painful. It would serve as a distraction at its most useless.

That settled, then. At least, as settled as it could ever be at this point in time. Annabeth hoped that the whole Jeff experience would be over and done with by that time, but once she got old enough, she was, without a doubt, going buy herself a knife. And a taser. And a gun.

A sudden paranoia crept over her as she recalled Jeff's self-inflicted permanent smile, and she quickly checked to make sure all over the openings to the house were locked. The teen remembered locking them, but one could never be too careful when it came to a serial killer.

Especially a non-human, obsessed, immortal one like Jeff.

Annabeth clenched her fists.

I refuse to be beaten by that fucker.

Jeff the Killer might be used to getting what he wanted. He might expect all "mortals" to scream upon seeing him. He might be used to "puny" humans bowing and scraping and groveling and submitting to his every will, his every whim.

If that was the case, he was in for a shock. Annabeth was going to be different. She was not going to do what he wanted. She was not going to scream. She was not going to bow or scrape or grovel or submit to his every will and whim.

Hell no. Jeff didn't need his already inflated ego getting any bigger. And Annabeth didn't need him strutting around like her owned her, claiming that she belonged to him. She belonged to no one. No one but herself.

Our little game. Jeff had said.

Jeff wanted to play a game with her?

Fine, then.

She would oblige.

And she would put that bastard in his place.

Because whether he liked it or not, whether he believed it or not, Annabeth did not belong to him.

He could hit her. He could threaten her. He could shout at her. He could stab her.

But he would never, ever, own her.

Jeffrey Woods...

You are in for one hell of a ride.

That was boring. I am so sorry. I'll try to make the next chapter have more action, but I can't promise anything.

Thank you so much for reading, and see you guys soon!