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Missed me?

part one part two part three final part

Study Buddy

part one final part

Romance Novel

My Best Girl 🕊

So, So Right

part one part two part three part four final part

Stepbro! Anakin [bot]

Cottage in the Woods

Not That Kind of Guy [ON GOING SERIES]

This one will have alternate endings. Stay tuned… not sure how I’ll be doing that yet but I’ll let you know! Not nearly time for it tho. This fic is gonna be LONG

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten

eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen

eighteen nineteen twenty twenty one twenty two twenty three

Requested Blurb!

Stalker!Ani Bot

Stalker!Ani Character Art

Playlist

Stalker!Ani apartment

NSFW art more SFW art more NSFW

Me reading the DSM-5 and checking boxes (highly unqualified opinion).

Body count Guitar. Tattoo for reader. Part 15 ‘cheap whore’ audio

Theme song???

A Gift

part one part two

Not Yet

part one part two

All Better

The General

Master Anakin [bot]

Crybaby [metalhead]

part one part two part three final part

90’s Metalhead Anakin [bot]

Alderaan

Dear Diary 🕊

Padawan

You awoke with a start, twitching in your half asleep state as he jostled your shoulder. During the entirety of your relationship he’d never once woken you up like this. Not even as Ghost.

He wasn’t angry. He was panicked.

“What?” You mumbled, sitting up and reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp.

“You okay?” You asked, squinting when the bright light illuminated the pitch black bedroom. You tossed off the covers and scooted over on your knees, half expecting him to show you an injury.

“Fine, I’m- I’m fine.” Anakin said hurriedly, shoving a book in your face and impatiently tapping the page. “Read this, look.”

“Alright, Jesus dude.” Grumpily huffing as you pushed it back to a reasonable distance.

“Here, just hand it to me.” You frowned, noticing immediately it was difficult to read for several reasons. He was shaking like a leaf, the font… wasn’t font. This was handwritten cursive. Juvenile cursive, but legible after you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

“You’re taking too long.” He scoffed, turning it back around to read it aloud to you in order to speed things along. “Awake enough to listen?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, grabbing your tumbler from the nightstand to gulp down some cold water in hopes that you would come out of your sleepy state faster. Obviously something was upsetting him and you wanted to be able to properly communicate.

“December 2nd: We just moved in. Where is the snow?”

Anakin licked his lips, mouthing out the next entries subconsciously in order to find the other relevant sections.

“December 17th: So apparently a guy lives in the house on the right. I saw him today with an old guy who had a brick for a phone, so I’m guessing it’s his dad. Our dog stole a package off their porch and he came over to get it.”

He skimmed pages for quite a while until you observed teeth grinding, followed by a gruff tone.

“He looks like he smells kinda bad.”

“March 12th: the neighbor went outside with his skateboard/backpack again. His bag was empty when he left but full when he came back.”

Anakin said aloud, then skipped down the page to another clipped, simple entry.

“March 14th; he doesn’t talk, always alone, a real fucking freak.”

“Where’d you get that?” You asked, intrigued now that you were fully conscious and could recognize that this was not written by:

A) an adult

B) judging by the…fluorescent? pink and green cover, it was penned by a girl.

“In a sec.” He scowled, not wanting to be interrupted.

“March 15th; I’ve literally never seen this dude’s dog but it whines and makes Rex act wild cause he gets so upset hearing it. Like, he ate their trash so I bet they’ve got one of those gross old dogs that has to use pee pads and the guy acted like my puppy committed a felony for tearing up the trash bags! Like give your dog a cbd treat. Maybe his mutt would stop digging up their landscaping and whining all the damn time.”

“March 16th; mom told me I’m not supposed to talk to him. That there’s a reason he has no friend or whatever, she’s probably right. But how am I supposed to ignore him when he literally ran over my bike with his mom’s car. He’s not even old enough to drive. All because my puppy… idk? Acts like a puppy?”

Anakin read in a more tense tone. Like he didn’t appreciate what he was reading. He skipped nearly three pages of entries before reading again.

“April 9th: I hate my mom and her stupid husband!! How come Joseph is always so mean? My dad wasn’t ever this awful.”

Anakin paused for a second, his jaw clenching.

“April 9th: nighttime; Joseph is yelling.”

“April 11th; Joseph **spanked** me for leaving the yard. I just wanted to see where the weirdo goes all day. But really? Spanking? I’m almost 12. What a creep.”

“Anakin, give me some context, I’m so lost right now.” You rubbed your face and tied back your hair to get it out of your way. “Who’s Joseph?”

“It’s the guy.” Anakin said, the back of his hand smacking the book pages. “You know, the guy.”

“No-“ You shook your head in confusion but he cut you off by reading more.

“April 15th: Joseph suggested I should have a bouncy house for my birthday party, like I was a little kid. No one would ever speak to me again. So I argued about it and mom said I could invite anyone I wanted for a sleepover after cake and presents and like a normal birthday.”

Anakin grimaced, licking the inside of his cheek. He didn’t read the date but you saw his finger trail down the page a few lines before he said anything else.

“I gave him a pity invite, he stuck his gum on it and smacked it on our mailbox.”

“April 28th: My birthday was so bad. Joseph was already mad at mom for the presents she got me. Too expensive and too ‘mature’ for me. Like??? Sorry I don’t read Magic Treehouse anymore. I’d rather die than be caught with something like that so mom got me the full set of Twilight. Then, my actual party was over halfway through because he smacked mom in front of everyone. We had to cancel the sleepover and now Natalie’s mom is saying she’s not allow to come over anymore. Like ever.”

Anakin said eyebrows furrowed deeply as he looked up at you, expecting you to have finally connected the dots.

“Sound familiar?” Anakin asked, his deep blue eyes looking straight through yours as if he could dredge up that information through your pupils. “That kid I told you about? How her stepdad hit her mom? It’s her.”

“W-who is her?” You asked, internally flipping through faces to connect the scenario to a person.

“That bitch ass fucking therapist.” He growled, jabbing his finger into the book spine’s crease. “She started her practice pretty damn early.”

“That boy hit him really hard. Mom is so mad the police came but like she should’ve called the cops already, it’s not like Joseph hasn’t acted like a prick before. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve wanted to call the cops on him, I’d basically be rich.”

Anakin sucked in a breath, rubbing his eyes before continuing.

“Anyway, Joseph got arrested too because he kept yelling at the cop and kept threatening that dude’s mom or something.”

“So now my life is basically ruined because of some emo criminal and my mental stepdad. Ya, yes, exactly what I need when I’m about to start summer break before my first year of middle school.”

Anakin read aloud, his voice growing tight.

“Anakin, honey.” You furrowed your brows and inched closer. Taking the journal from his hands and sitting it aside.

“No, don’t you honey me.” He grumbled, but allowed you to hug him anyway, his forehead resting on your shoulder. “What the fuck man? Isn’t this some kind of… patient/doctor thing? Like it conflicts? Can I sue her?”

“Yeah. Sure. Sue her Anakin.” You said flatly. “The cops totally won’t bat an eye at the fact you broke into her house and stole shit.”

“Fuck!” He growled, throwing himself backward and letting his body bounce on the mattress while he pulled at his hair.

“Can you?” He sighed, kicking his leg out in the direction of the journal. “It’s just gonna piss me off more if I read it. That fucking bitch testified against me, you know? God, I should be better with names. How did I miss that?” He groaned, weakly pounding the side of his fist against his forehead.

“It’d been years. She was a minor so they probably didn’t use her real name in court. You didn’t even know her Anakin. It’s not your fault for seeing her, you know. She obviously abused her position.” You said, lying back with your head on his stomach, feeling it rise and fall as he breathed. You lifted up the journal above your face and started to flip through it where he left off.

“Yeah but she knew who I was!” He said, throwing his hands up and gesturing wildly while he talked. “What’s the end goal? What the hell has she got planned? No way she’d just start working at my doctors office out of coincidence. I knew it! I knew I didn’t fucking like that bitch the second I saw her. Rubbed me the wrong way.”

“Would you look through her files too?” Anakin asked after a moment of forcing himself to calm down. “I hooked up the flash drive.”

“Now?” You groaned, glancing at the time and seeing it was the wee hours of the morning.

“No, just soon. As soon as you can.” He said calmly, plucking the book from your hands and flicking out his wrist like he was throwing a frisbee, sending it flying against the wall.

“She had a Mac.” Anakin mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay?” You said, rolling over to rest your chin on his forearm. “You got something against Mac?”

“No. Obviously not.” He rolled his eyes, turning his head away from you. He did have an IPhone after all. “What if her phone is synced to it?”

“Well that’s a good thing right?” You wondered aloud. “That means more information. Like texts and calls. That’s what you want right?”

“Yeah but that would also mean her whole photo album is there.” Anakin said with a scowl. “I don’t want to see that shit.”

“Pictures are worth a thousand words.” You snorted, not fully understanding the issue he was having.

“What if she whores around? She’d have… you know. Pictures.” He grumbled, lifting up his head to see your reaction.

“Oh.” You said, letting it register before you giggled, covering your mouth. “What, you don’t like boobs?”

“I love your boobs.” He blushed, letting his head fall back with his hand over his face. “I don’t want to see anyone else’s. That’s gross.”

“Oh come on.” You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “You’re a guy. Don’t pretend you don’t watch porn. I bet you’ve got a stack of Playboys hidden around here somewhere too.” You teased, poking his side.

Though, he didn’t find it funny. At all.

“No. I don’t.” He said in a fully serious manner, not a hint of sarcasm or teasing, no hidden laughter under his breath. “I don’t watch that shit, why would I?”

“Cause that’s why guys do?” You countered, scooting back now that he was propping himself up on his elbows.

“Not me.” He gritted out. “You really think I’d do that?”

“Ani, it’s not a big deal.” Your face softened slightly, and you reached out to grab his hand but he snatched it away quickly.

“Do you look at that kind of thing?” He asked, suddenly looking insecure.

“No, I mean… I read smut books.” You shrugged, offering up that tidbit like he wasn’t already fully aware.

“Yeah but you don’t…?” His eyes scanned your face to see if you were lying.

“Can’t you see literally everything I do on my phone and computer?” You frowned, feeling attacked and cornered.

“Yes.” He nodded, sitting up fully with his hands resting on his thighs, his left knee bouncing anxiously.

“You know the answer is no then.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“You want to look through my things?” Anakin asked, shoving his phone into your hands. “I don’t… I don’t do that kind of thing. I’d never do that. I love you. I’d never ever disrespect you like that.”

“I’ve waited my whole life to find you. You’re the perfect woman. I love you and watch over you because you’re like… my reason for existing. You’re my purpose.”

“I love you too, Ani.” You said with slight confusion. “I don’t want to look through your things. I trust you.”

But the truth was… you were a little afraid of what you might see. Was he one of those serial killers? Did he take pictures? Did he post stuff on some weird Internet forum like the ones you hear about on true crime shows?

“Baby please.” He whispered, refusing to take his phone back as he shook his head, nearly in tears. “My sweet girl, I… can’t you just look? It’s gonna drive me nuts if you’ve got any kinda doubt.”

“Anakin it’s not necessary.” You shook your head, giving him a half smile of reassurances. “I really don’t-“

“Please?” His voice squeaked, grabbing your wrist to turn the glass screen toward his face, unlocking it and immediately tapping on his photo album. “Please just look. Please? I don’t ever want you to doubt me. My love for you. God it kills me to think about.”

“Can we do this together tomorrow after we get some sleep?” You suggested, clicking his phone back off with your thumb.

“But I could just stay awake and delete stuff and you’d never know!” He said, chewing on the inside of his cheek so aggressively you were nearly certain he’d draw blood.

“But you won’t.” You said simply.

“But I could.” He said, almost like he was disappointed that you weren’t as eager as he was to prove himself innocent.

“You could.” You nodded. “But. I know you won’t.”

“How? What makes you think that?” He asked, looking as if he were genuinely incapable of understanding why you felt so strongly.

“Fine. Alright.” You sighed, snatching the phone from him in order to appease him. You weren’t getting your way. He wasn’t going to give up. “Nothing I say will make you feel better, huh?”

Anakin’s lip just twitched and he nodded. Seemingly ashamed at the deeply rooted insecurity. He silently propped himself up against the headboard and dragged you to lay your back against his chest, positioning you between his legs.

You reached up and pointed the screen at his face, his chin resting atop your head comfortably. He obliged, swiping up to unlock his phone for you.

His phone was a barren wasteland.

Only six women existed in his contacts list: you, his mother, your sister, his step-brother’s wife, April from work and Luke’s sister.

You already knew he didn’t really have a friend group, but it was honestly a little unsettling to see that he only ever messaged you, his mother, Luke and Han, his weed dealer/coworker. The last text to his stepbrother was from months ago. He didn’t even get subscription messages.

Not a single unheard voicemail, no unread emails.

Photo albums full completely of you. Him. The farther back you went, the blurrier and farther away the pictures were. You knew that he’d followed you and stalked you, of course he had pictures like that. So why did it bother you so much?

Social media who?

He only appeared on instagram after he’d secured you as his girlfriend. He had nothing to show off until then. He didn’t follow anyone other than the people in his contacts list. How come you never noticed that before? It could’ve been mistaken for a burner account if not for the pictures he’s posted of you and himself, tagging you in them. Luke and Han tagged in a few.

He had one chat. Why would he need to talk to anyone else? He only felt the need to send you memes and reels. Apparently, no one else deserved to see what he found funny.

His search history was lacking in every way. Mostly food recipes, how-to’s for quick house fixes and repairs. He also had a Pinterest. For literally the same things.

“What’s this?” You asked about an orange app you’d never seen before, rubbing your eyes to force yourself to stay awake.

“You know I need to research.” He said quietly, his throat vibrating against the back of your head. “If it’s not something legal I have to open the search engine through it. Kinda like a VPN.”

“Right.” You nodded. That made sense. “So it doesn’t leave a search history either right?”

“No, it doesn’t.” He admitted. “But I can get you the history if you want.” He quickly added.

“How?” You asked confusedly.

“I wrote down every URL I’ve clicked on. I can’t y’know have a favorites or bookmark page with it. So I made a physical copy.” He said with a shrug, standing up on the mattress.

You watched as he twisted the left lightbulb on the ceiling fan. The one that never worked. You’d always assumed it was blown and he hadn’t bothered to change it.

In reality, the bulb wasn’t actually connected to anything in the first place. With one long finger, he felt around inside the metal casing until he felt the familiar texture of paper and carefully extracted the folded up list of about 15 websites.

How many other obscure hiding places did he have?

“I’ve never done a woman before,” Anakin muttered, arms crossed over his chest as he walked beside you in Whole Foods. “it’s a little unfair. I’ve got an obvious advantage.”

“That’s sexist.” You scoffed, making a face at him.

“Uh huh. But it’s true.” He nodded, not even trying to deny it as he shrugged and grabbed a box of his favorite pretzel dippers and tossed it in the cart.

You silently mocked him, mouthing the words back at him.

“I can hear your lips flapping.” Anakin snorted, checking a few items off your grocery list.

“Well it’s not like you *have* to do anything about her. Right?” You sighed, leaning forward on the shopping cart and letting your feet drag against the tile.

“I think I should go back.” He muttered under his breath, turning his head away when you jerked around to look at him.

“What? Why?” You asked seriously, clearly not going to take a half assed response as an answer.

“I just have this weird feeling.” He said, rubbing his upper arms almost like he was hugging himself. “Something’s just not right.”

“If you’re going back, I’m coming too.” You said matter of factly.

“I need to return that journal.” He said, poking the center of his palm with his opposite hand, repeating the motion when he spoke again. “And I need to take a better look at her home office. Maybe even the actual office too.”

“No. You’re not doing that unless you have to. Like really have to.” You said quickly, not liking the idea of him breaking into the psychiatrist’s office. It sounded like a one way ticket to jail. Surely it would be locked up tight considering all the patient information and it’s not like many people would break into a psychiatrist’s office. The police would look at patients as the first suspects.

“What are you even looking for?” You sighed, watching him use those long arms of his to grab something you wouldn’t even reach if you stood on your tiptoes.

“Fuck, I don’t know.” He grumbled, suddenly looking weary.

You could tell that whatever he was thinking, it wasn’t good. Since he’d started to let you into the darker zones of his life, you’d been able to read him a bit better. He didn’t seem as enigmatic as he used to. Turns out, there was a rhyme and reason for his actions. You just had to dig around to find it.

Was he worried that this woman would somehow dredge up new information from his attack on her father? Have him retried for attempted murder instead of assault? Could she even do that?

He was right, it was strange that she’d decided to pursue a career in which she specializes in people like Anakin. Why would she do that, if not to understand it better? Could it be that she was just traumatized by the incident with her stepfather and this was her way of coping? Trying to help these people before they lashed out and hurt someone?

Or was there something else? It certainly seemed odd that such a young girl would become so obsessed with one particular part of her life, that she would grow up to spend **years** of college and an outrageous amount of money to have her profession in the mental health field.

“Are you listening?” Anakin huffed, snapping his fingers right beside your ear to catch your attention.

“Huh?”

“Huh?” He repeated mockingly, making a face at you. “I was asking why you wanted to come with me.” He said, placing his hand on top of your head to steer you towards the next aisle.

“Uh because? I don’t know, I can hold your flashlight or something.” You shrugged, not having any other reason than just being curious and wanting to be involved in a part of his life he wasn’t open to sharing before.

“Aw, how cute.” He snorted, flexing his fingers on your scalp. “Like a kid helping their dad work on a car. ‘Grab me that screwdriver sweetie, n-no, no the other one. No. No honey that’s a wrench.’”

“Haha.” You shot a glare at him. “I’m being serious! Okay?”

“Oh, I know you are doll.” He chuckled, patting your head. “*That’s* what makes my joke funny.”

“Ani this is a lot.” You whined, gesturing at the computer monitor in his living room. Both his gaming monitors were full of opened tabs, documents and photos.

“Have you finished with the photos and videos?” He sighed, looking over at you from his pile of… whatever it was he was working on in the floor. Anakin had a notebook, two books from the library and a half eaten bag of chips in his lap.

“I’ve seen all the videos.” You huffed, crossing your arms and spinning around to face him in the desk chair. “I’ve still got like… a thousand and something pictures to get through.”

“Then get back to work.” He mumbled under his breath, shaking his head while twirling a pencil between his fingers.

“Can’t we take a break?” Your lip fell into a pout.

“Dude, you take a break if you want. But I’m getting this done tonight okay?” He snapped at you, furrowing his brows. “This isn’t a fun little project, baby. I don’t wanna waste time.”

“I know, I know.” You frowned, slowly turning yourself back around to finish up the last leg of the monotonous task.

It never occurred to you just how much work went into to something like this. Until being a part of it. You almost wished you’d never asked to be included in all of it. It was like building a boring, pointless diorama of this woman’s life for an assignment.

90% of your final grade rode on this. But the 10% left was the fun part where you get to show it off and talk all about it to your peers. Anakin would give you a little head pat, a smooch, and if you were lucky, he might even take you for icecream after for a job well done.

After convincing yourself that was true, you surprisingly finished up the photo album quicker than you’d anticipated.

“Scoot, scoot.” Anakin clicked his tongue twice as he physically moved your rolling desk chair to one side, dropping the heavy ottoman in its place.

“Hey! I was busy-“

“Yeah I know, I finished up my stuff. I’m gonna help you look through these files.” He said, ruffling up your hair as he kneeled on the ottoman and reached over to move one of his computer monitors to give you a bit of a workspace on the L shaped desk. Then he did the same with his other and sat himself down.

Anakin was always great at keeping things together, organized. He always put a lot of effort into the things he did, whether it be cooking or guitar, even something simple like choosing your movie night plans. But you had never seen him so clearly hyper focused on something before…

Well, other than his clean up and staging of the ‘Frat Lake’ incident.

This kind of flowing intensity of energy was baffling to you, it was like he became a completely different, goal oriented individual. Like his brain wouldn’t allow him to slow down or allow himself a moment to breathe until the situation had been handled to a degree of his choosing. The end was in sight for him and he wouldn’t let up until he had reached that finish line.

Sitting beside him and observing his thought process, it was a moment of surrealism. Is this what he looked like when he was… stalking- getting to know you? Had the same single minded purpose consumed him then as well?

He’d made it clear that this was not an enjoyable task for him several times that night. A chore, something that had to be done.

As if he’d anticipated your next thought before your brain had even fully realized the concept, he spoke.

“God this is boring.” He mumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes as he scrolled through the endless stream of information.

“Y’know, this was a whole lot more fun when I did it for you.” He tossed the words over his shoulder at you to find you already staring at him.

“How you holding up?” He asked, giving you a small, almost shy smile. “You might be whiny about it, but this is so much more bearable with you here.”

“I’m okay, I just don’t understand why we need to look through all this, this doesn’t even have anything to do with her personal life.” You sighed, gesturing to the screen where you had patient information pulled up.

“But I guess it’s not so bad considering we’re doing it together.” You shrugged, returning the sweet sentiment he’d passed to you.

“I know it seems useless, but trust me, it’s better to be prepared for anything.” He said, reaching over to pat your thigh affectionately. He leaned over and put a hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

“Especially since you insist that you’re coming with me.” He said resting his forehead against yours as his fingers gently massaged your scalp. “I have to make sure there aren’t any surprises, can’t have you getting hurt because I’ve missed something.”

——————————————————————————

It was nearly 3:00am by the time you found anything of value in her files. You’d almost skipped over it, your eyes tired from the hours spent hunched over in front of the bright screen.

“This is the place you went to school at, yeah?” You asked, tugging on his shirt sleeve to point at the juvenile detention school’s name on an excel spreadsheet. “Did you go with any of these people?”

“Uh,” he spun around and nodded that yes, it was the right school. “I mean, the names are familiar- there’s me.” He said quickly, sliding your key board and mouse away from you to take control.

“So this is a list of everyone she’s had a session with from my school?” He furrowed his brow, clicking on his name to open the link to the corresponding documents. Everything seemed to be in line with the paper copies he’d received from the office. It contained his school records, transcripts, court orders and notes from other therapists as well as psychiatric stays.

“She wasn’t kidding when she said she worked with all kinds of crazy people.” He mumbled, rubbing his chin and he backed out of his own file and began scrolling through others.

Reading the synopsis of each, their average behavior, records and diagnosis. To his surprise, there were more with his diagnosis in the area and somehow each of them had seen this woman at least once.

She never stayed more than a year at each company she was employed, hopping place to place all across the state.

“Ani, I don’t like this.” You said quietly.

“Me either.” He huffed, sliding the keyboard and mouse back over to you.

Anakin stood up and paced the living room for a moment while you sat quietly and let him think… or stew. You weren’t sure exactly which.

“I’ve seen enough.” He said suddenly, shaking his head as he turned back to you and reached over the back of your chair to scoop his hands beneath your armpit. He swiftly picked you up and over the arm rests and sat you back on your feet. “Bedtime.”

“I thought you wanted to look through it all tonight?” You asked, although you couldn’t hide that you were relieved to be finished.

“Changed my mind.” He said, squeezing the back of your neck gently as he steered you toward his room. “I say we forget it. I don’t think this is something for me.” He said with a frown.

“It was a mistake to do this.” He mumbled, flicking off the overhead lights when you passed the switch. “We’ve got other things to worry about anyway, right?” He said, giving you a little smile as he peeled back the covers and waited for you to get settled.

“You’ll tell me if you decide otherwise, won’t you?” You asked, tilting your head to face him as you laid on your pillow.

“Of course.” Anakin nodded, squeezing you against his chest and situating his arm beneath your pillow.

Halloween

The Cerulean was packed, filled to the brim with people. Anakin actually had to escort you and your entourage past the bouncers to allow you inside ahead of the line of costumed college students waiting to get into the bar.

The decorations had most definitely been coordinated by April. Anakin might be creative, but not with something as simple as event decor, if it didn’t interest him, he simply ignored it. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have decorated at all.

All it meant was more work later. More trash to pick up, more places for people to puke other than the toilet where it belongs. Plastic jack-o’-lanterns sat on each and every table, LED lights glowed and softly transitioned from green to purple over and over again beneath the fog provided by not one, but three fog machines. Crepe paper and tinsel was strewn about in a way that only a woman could appreciate.

All this fuss over one night. Costumes these people would only wear once. Decorations that would end up in a landfill. All because of a holiday that the average person used as an excuse to get plastered.

It all seemed wasteful. Just days ago he’d heard April complain about how much trash the bar produced, how she wished the manager would do away with plastic cups. Now here she was, throwing ‘can only be used once’ shit around the whole place and calling it decor. But she was proud of it and you seemed to appreciate it.

So what could he do but smile and nod along with you when you complimented all April’s hard work?

“Yeah, she came in early and everything.” He said with a light laugh. Smiling as he reached out to let your ribbon-tied pony tail slide through his fingers.

“Hey batta, batta!” A loud booming voice rang out from behind the bar. Trevor stood there holding a squirt bottle of Vodka, usually reserved for drink tricks involving salt and a lighter and a prop baseball.

“Hit me.” Anakin grinned at him, responding with a nod, before giving you a wink over his shoulder.

Anakin did a lot of things, but a goofy, **public** stunt like this was not in his repertoire. He hardly ever did something to drawn attention to himself, but here he was, the section of the room you were in suddenly getting a little quieter as Anakin tapped his foam baseball bat against the ground.

“Shhwinggg!” Trevor chucked the ball toward Anakin.

The next string of images distorted slowly. Something reminiscent of a VHS that’s gotten stuck inside the tape player. A scratchy, whirring sound echoing in your ears as a different scene overlapped with reality right before your very eyes.

Anakin. The baby faced one in the photo album from his parent’s house, wearing a pair of swim trunks and an ‘I survived The Terrorizer’ theme park shirt. Innocent looking, despite the spiked hair and chunky leather bracelets. A huge cheesy smile on his pink cheeked face that his mom definitely had to beg him to plaster on. His stepdad standing beside him with two thumbs up and a sun burn blazing on his formerly paste-white shins, his legs clearly having seen the sun for the first time in months.

Anakin. Itchy costume uniform, over exaggerated batting stance. Arms raised up and too the side, twirling the bat playfully.

Innocent face, happy kid. A grey, staticky overlay clouding the scene. Words in rewind that sounded more like shrieks and gasps than intelligent speech. A dollop of blood dripping down onto the photo, seeping into the plastic protecter. Oozing into every corner, creating opaque lines of scarlet and bubbles of tinted liquid.

The man you love. Standing in front of you, wearing someone else’s face. No. His… it’s his own. Just different.

Anakin, who swung his bat at full force, shooting the light plastic ball off at sonic speed toward the ceiling.

Intermittent flashes of white, bright and shining. Leaving you encased in ichor with every strobe of light.

The baseball grew in size, morphing into something bigger, lumpy. Spewing crimson across the bar, the liquid leaking into the floor and lapping at your ankles.

By the time the ball was caught and wedged into the exposed rafters, you stepped back and nearly lost your balance as a woman’s face stared down at you with clouded eyes.

Then, it **blinked**.

“And that’s a home run ladies and gents!” Trevor belted out, a round of applause and cheers from drunk patrons erupted around you.

Suddenly you were aware of Luke’s hand on your shoulder, shaking you and laughing. Out of instinct you reacted with a late-timed smile and awkward chuckle, swallowing hard as you watched Anakin hop over the counter and let Trevor squirt Vodka into his mouth.

“Hey.” The word was distorted and wobbly, as if hearing it underwater as you blinked and tried to come back up for air. “Hey?”

“Mhm?” You turned, meeting Luke’s eyes as he shook your shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked, a look of concern coloring his visage.

“Huh? Oh-“ Your brain seemed to lag a bit. Taking a few extra seconds to actually digest his question. “Yeah! Yeah I just got distracted, that’s all.”

You smiled, patting his shoulder before you smoothed out the front of your costume and grabbed his wrist, pulling him along behind you toward the bar.

“Margarita?” Anakin grinned, looking down at you over the countertop he leaned on.

“Perfect.” You needed that drink. And luckily, he’d already begun preparing it for you. The moment the glass touched your hand, you tipped it up and drank down at least four sips worth of liquid.

“Thirsty?” Anakin chuckled, picking up your hand from where it was gripped tightly against the edge of counter.

“There’s just a lot of people.” You shook your head, using the crowd as an excuse for your sudden and inescapable need for alcohol.

“I know.” He groaned, looking past you with a grimace. “Give me your bag, I’ll put it with my stuff so you don’t lose it.” He said, snatching it without waiting for your answer.

———

A few hours pass and you begin to forget the disturbing film your mind had strung together, focusing on having fun with your friends and the occasional drop-in and smooch from Anakin.

The bar had new people drifting in and out all night, some in minimal costume, some in handmade and intricate ones, the vast majority however were store bought and horror based. No matter where you stood, there was at least one Ghostface in the general vicinity.

Cheap polyester gowns with jagged sleeves. The masks a rubber and plastic mixture that seemed lackluster in comparison to the more expensive and better made one you’d become accustomed to seeing. It was kind of sad, seeing their faux-blood filled plastic knives jabbing the air as they danced and pretended to shank others in the crowd.

Tactless. No real ‘oomph’ behind it. Probably wouldn’t even knick a bone if the knives were actually real. These fools were a poor imitation of the real thing.

“I’ll be back. I think I need a break.” You shouted over the speakers to Han who was standing closest to you.

“Outside?” He leaned down, trying to hear you better.

“Bathroom.” You shook your head and thumbed over your shoulder. With a wave of acknowledgment from your friend, you spun on your heel and shuffled through a throng of people to get to the restroom.

The state of the bathroom was akin to a rundown gas station porta-potty at this point in the night. Absolutely trashed. Hovering over the toilet wasn’t even an option considering you couldn’t even stomach touching the stall door.

It didn’t matter. The cold weight in the pit of your stomach was getting heavier and heavier with each minute that passed by. Going home sounded nice. Even then, you weren’t sure it would stamp down this feeling that had you so off balance.

The girl staring back at you in the dirty, smudged mirror couldn’t even bear to meeting your eyeline. The music and jumbled voices grew louder for an instant before dialing back once again, the dampened silence broken only by timid footsteps.

“I can help you.” A woman’s voice echoed in the still, cold air. “You just need to tell me. I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me.”

You whipped your head around, the muscles in your neck pulling tight as a guitar string as you laid eyes on the woman who should currently have her head wedged in the rafters above the bar.

“Help me?” You repeated her words in a voice that didn’t sound like it belonged to you. “Help me understand what it is that you think you’re doing. This is completely unprofessional.”

“Unprofessional?” She laughed lightly, her arms limp at her sides as her shoulders lifted to her ears and back down again. “That doesn’t matter anymore. I lost my license.” She said, a slight tremble in her voice that made you believe she really meant it. Anakin must’ve… well he obviously had something to do with it. At least this meant he had decided not to kill her.

“I have nothing kind to say to you.” You said in plain and stern tone. “Move.” You huffed, trying to get past her but she was blocking the door.

“Just hear me out, please.” She said in a quiet, tearful voice. “Please. You’re clearly a good person. That man? He’s not. I don’t know everything. But I know enough to understand that he **will** kill you if he finds it necessary.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” It came out as a shout, not intentionally, but your voice rose with every syllable. “I’m glad you lost your license. You’re clearly not in any position to be making medical decisions about anyone. You’re talking nonsense.”

“I thought he was just strange.” She continued, moving slowly toward you. “He was nice enough, he never bother anyone. But that day, I have never felt such pure rage radiating from a person before. Even from across my yard, I could feel it just the same as if I were standing in front of a bonfire.”

“I didn’t even feel bad when my stepdad was attacked. I hated him. I even hoped that he might die from some kind of after effect.” The woman admitted with a kind of lopsided smile. “But it made me so curious. How could such a seemingly harmless boy turn into such a violent animal so quickly?”

“I know you know exactly what I’m talking about.” She said in a clear, unshaken voice as she stood up a little straighter and blinked away her tears. “I can see it on your face.”

“Leave us alone.” You said, gritting your teeth tightly. “I have no clue what the hell you’re talking about! You’re not even supposed to be here! You’ve been banned! How did you even get in?”

“Please just listen!” She yelled, looking exhausted and frantic as she reached forward to grab your shoulder. “People like him can never be normal. I know. I’ve studied and tested and tried my damndest to understand-“

“He is normal!” You screamed loudly, both hands shooting out to grab her neck and push her back against the tiled wall.

“Don’t you ever talk about him like that!” You shook her hard, glaring at her like your gaze might pierce her head. “You don’t know anything! Nothing! You’re nothing but a stupid, empty headed, mistake of a person!”

“If anyone is a monster, it’s you!” The tears filled your eyes a dripped down your cheeks before you even realized you were crying.

“I never said he was a monster.” The woman gasped for air as your hands unconsciously squeezed her neck.

“He’s not! He isn’t!” Yet here you were. Truly wishing for the first time, he had killed a person. In the same brutal fashion he always did. This person. So you wouldn’t have to.