A/N: Once again, thank you so much for the feedback. I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to review.

Thanks to the wonderful starfishyeti!

The stalker

by elessar73

*** 30. chapter : A good plan is everything ***

Mary sat in the darkness beside Charlie's bed. The items she needed for her assault were spread out in front of her. In her mind she went through the procedure she had planned. First she would gag Charlie with the washcloth she had found and taken from the lumber-room.

The image of pushing the fabric deep into Charlie's throat had thrilled her to her roots. She had been gasping for air when she had pictured herself pressing the rag with her finger into Charlie's mouth, touching his lips, caressing his teeth and tongue. Her fingertips had begun to tingle and she'd rubbed them together to savor that feeling. Her body had begun to tremble and she had felt like she was losing control. She'd pressed her eyes shut and had taken some deep breaths. 'Oh so wonderful!'

And now she was here, her imagination could now take life. Charlie was hers. When the washcloth was placed she would secure it with the duct tape, taking away all chances for Charlie to scream and draw someone´s attention to him. She knew had to work quickly, silently and effectively; she was ready.

Mary took in a last deep breath and rose to her knees. Her head was now at the same height as Charlie's. The beam of moonlight dripped through the curtains and bathed Charlie's face in a silver light giving him a young and fragile expression. 'He looks just like Mickey. Those curls.' Mary shuddered at the thought. 'Funny how history repeats itself. Just like Mickey you're gonna die.' But now was not the time for sentimental memories.

She grabbed the washcloth firmly and folded it into a perfect square. 'As homage to you math man, hope you like it.' Mary placed the rag on the bed, took up the duct tape and ripped off a good piece of it holding it in her left hand. With her right hand she reached for the washcloth and slowly came up to her feet. In an almost tender movement she reached out her hand and the rag dangled over Charlie's slightly opened mouth. And then everything moved quickly.

In a liquid movement Mary shoved the washcloth between Charlie's lips and pushed it with her fingers deep into his mouth. When the rag was placed as deep as possible she took the duct tape and plastered it over Charlie's mouth. She sighed in relief; it was done. The first step was taken. But she had to admit to herself that the experience wasn't as erotic as she had imagined. There was no time for sweetly caressing Charlie's lips and tongue and skin. For a while she hung on to her dreams when she somehow get the feeling of being observed. She startled back into the present and looked straight into Charlie's big brown eyes. The dark pools were opened wide in surprise, but the expression changed into fear when realization trickled in.

...

Charlie was fast asleep. The young man had fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep short after he had finished the call with his brother Don. The day had cost him a great amount of his strength and not just physically. The knowledge that he was on the list of a maniac wasn't that calming at all. But a palliative had done a good job on his nerves and he had drifted on a white cloud into the land of sleep.

But just up till now. Suddenly, Charlie'd gotten the feeling that he couldn't breathe anymore. He'd thought he was suffocating and in a wave of panic his eyes had flown open. He'd tried to open his mouth wider but he couldn't. Something had blocked it off; he'd been gagged.

His eyes shifted from left to right but he couldn't see much in the darkness. He felt hands touching his face and he tried to focus on the source of the touch. When his eyes had become adjusted to the dim light he recognized the figure of a woman standing above him. He squeezed his eyes to get a better view. The face seemed familiar somehow, but Charlie couldn't classify it. A beam of moonlight crossed the woman´s face and Charlie recognized the green, heartless and cold eyes staring down on him.

Charlie's vision began to blur. He started to panic. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs; he was going to die. Charlie closed his eyes in defeat. 'Think Eppes.' He forced himself to find a solution. It was just then that Charlie realized that he could move after all; he was gagged, not chained. He could try to run away or make some noise. Someone would hear him. An agent was supposed to be sitting in front of his door to protect him. Though his mind was dizzy from the drugs and the lack of oxygen he wondered what had happened to the man. Even now he felt concerned for the agent. Who knew what this woman was capable of. He hoped that the agent was okay and the woman hadn't harmed him. Charlie gathered all the strength he had left. As things were, he was going to have to fight for himself. This wasn't going to be easy, but at least he had to try-, for Don and Dad and for himself.

The green eyes fell on him when Charlie slipped slowly towards the edge of the bed. To his big surprise nothing happened. The woman didn't react upon his movement, didn't try to stop him. She seemed to be in shock, truly realizing what she was going to do. Charlie felt hope rise within him, with a little luck he could make it. But the amount of strength he needed to reach the end of the bed was huge. His collarbone and ribs ached with every move sending stabbing pain up and down his body. On top of this he felt his head became dizzier and dizzier within the second. The lack of oxygen added to the state he was in took its toll on him. He felt weak and without strength, but his brain told him to carry on.

Charlie pressed his eyes shut and pictures of Donnie, Alan, Amita, Larry and all the member of Don's team flickered on the back of his eyelids. He wouldn't give in. The young professor gathered his remaining strength and hoped that it would be enough. He rolled to his right side. He winced in pain when his collarbone made contact with the mattress. He looked around searching for a way out or something that would make a hell of a noise. He viewed the nightstand, maybe that would do. He felt more alert now; the pain had overruled his dizziness, at least a little. Sweat dripped from his forehead and splashed to the ground. Charlie turned his head towards the woman. She hadn't moved. She just kept watching him. Her eyes pierced into his back. So it was now or never. Charlie decided to take his chance. He lifted his right leg and pushed against the nightstand as hard as possible. The force sent the piece of furniture crashing against the wall loudly. A smile crept on Charlie's pain-stricken face. He glided further to the edge of the bed ready to stand up.

...

The noise of the crash startled Mary back to reality. She had lost herself in the dark brown eyes of her victim. Those expressive pools staring at her in surprise and fear made her freeze, she was chained just by looking at Charlie. The woman was totally unaware of her surroundings and what was happening till the crash destroyed the peaceful moment. Her eyes slipped back into focus. She blinked a few times to remove the image of Charlie and when she saw clearly again she started to move. Mary knew at once that she had to get a grip fast. Charlie had managed to reach the edge of the bed. He was ready to get away from her, but Mary couldn't let that happen. She grabbed the knife from the floor, tightened her grip around the hilt and rammed it at full strength into Charlie's back.

The blade penetrated through the skin and cut through soft tissue sending a fierce stab of pain through Charlie's shoulder. A muffled cry escaped Charlie's gagged mouth. Blood soaked through his shirt and ran down his back. Pain began to radiate from his shoulder down to his back. The young man pressed his eyes shut when his vision started to dance and became fuzzy. 'Stay focused,` he told himself. Unbidden, tears shot into his eyes. He shook his head to clear his vision but the movement caused the room to spin even more. He stopped immediately and tried to breathe as deeply as possible. Adrenaline rushed through his body. He felt his heartbeat continuing to increase giving him new strength. He had to get away from this maniac.

His legs made contact with the ground. Charlie steadied himself with his left hand holding on to the edge of the bed. He felt the knife move in his back. With every move he made the pain increased. Charlie came to a standing position. He swayed dangerously on his feet ready to crash down every second. The sweat ran in streams down his face. He took an unsteady step forward when he felt a pull on the blade. The pain exploded and immediately, became unbearable. The blood now streamed freely down his back leaving a sticky track on his skin. Suddenly, everything around Charlie became black. His eyes rolled back and he crashed down in a heap to the ground.

...

Unhappily, Mary realized that things weren´t working out the way she had planned them. She held the knife tight to her chest taking in the coppery smell of blood, Charlie's blood. At least that was something, the bastard was bleeding but that was far away from what she had wanted. She wanted him dead. She rounded the bed leaving a track of blood drips from the knife on her way to the man who had collapsed on the floor.

Mary fell down on her knees beside an unconscious Charlie. He lay on his belly, his head turned to the left side, his curls in a wild mop all around him. It was the most fantastic view Mary could think of. Her slacks were wet from his blood that had already pooled into a puddle beyond him. She didn't care... she was far beyond caring or thinking. Mary moved the knife from her chest and pressed the bloody blade softly against Charlie's cheek. Slowly she moved it up and down. It would be so easy. The blade came to a halt under Charlie's right eye. She increased the pressure, just a little. The blade slit open the soft skin and a few drops of blood appeared in the fine gash. They looked like red teardrops. Mary watched fascinated. The bloody tears tracked their way down Charlie's face leaving crimson trails on the pale skin.

...

Outside Mary's world, the hospital floor had become alive with noise. You could hear running feet and loud screams everywhere, but Mary wasn´t listening. She replaced the knife carefully. It found its place right on Charlie's temple. Mary took a deep breath and prepared herself to cut the skin when suddenly the door flew open.

TBC