A flicker of hope that she was gone flashed through his mind and his eyes brightened as he contemplated the possibility. Opening the door fully, he ventured into the room, looking carefully in every direction as he walked toward the ruffled bed.
The bedroom door was ajar. He had closed it when he went to bed, but of course she had opened it when she entered later. It was obvious to him that she was nowhere in the bedroom, so she was either in the living room or gone. Moving cautiously, he passed through the partially opened doorway, entering the living room with some trepidation. A creak in the flooring greeted him as he stepped into the opening. Freezing in his tracks the instant he heard the sound, his eyes scanned the dark interior of the outer room. A sigh of relief escaped him as he realized she was not in his apartment anymore.
Claude quickly moved to the entrance door and make sure it was locked. It wasn't. He turned the lock and this time, hooking the safety chain to the jam, he fully secured it. Now he could breathe easier.
He flipped on a lamp light and pulled a notebook from a drawer in the desk. He scrawled the words sloppily onto the paper, change locks tomorrow. He would make sure that she never gained entrance to his apartment again.
Sleep appeared to be a commodity he wouldn't achieve tonight as he drifted into thoughts of how in the hell he had ever met and befriended Kristen, though he was sure that was not her real name.
They had first met at a bar on the outskirts of Rochester. He thought the name was Whiskey Creek, but he couldn't be sure. He, along with friends had frequented several drinking establishments that evening and he really couldn't be sure which place he had met "Kristen". Once they had hooked up his friends had left him, believing that he would be involved for the evening, which he was.
"Kristen" was quite pretty, maybe a little older than he, and certainly as tall as he was. She laughed easily and appeared to be very interested in him. It was an easy pick up. The more he thought about it, however, the easy pickup had been him, not the other way around. It was like she had chosen him and he gratefully acquiesced.
They had ended up at his apartment where she practically tore his clothing from his body. It was as if she had a thirst for him that could not be satisfied. During their first weeks he totally enjoyed being her object of lust and obsession.
They saw each other on a weekly basis for two months. As he came to know and expect what she was going to do to him, the red flags began standing out a little more clearly. They didn't make love; it was animal sex with no kissing or foreplay. Her demeanor was always calculated and the conversation was nonexistent, far different from the first night he had been picked up by her.
He began pulling away and not answering her calls. A real fear within him had begun to take hold. The feeling that crept up his spine couldn't be explained by just one experience or comment that she said or didn't say. It was just...a feeling. A general feeling that something was not right with her; that she was an unusually damaged human being who was fighting demons that she would never understand. He cringed when he thought of her and what she might be capable of doing. Tomorrow, tomorrow the lock would be changed; he would make sure of that, for he wanted nothing to do with her ever again.
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