Sunstreaker. An odd name, but nothing about him was normal, Electra supposed. "Nice to meet you." It was a polite way of saying: good to know; I am returning to the kitchen now. It had nothing to do with the fact she felt fluttered but with the way his unyielding gaze held hers and the energy wafting off him like a tidal wave. Something lethal. Something dangerous, and she couldn't quite place what it was. His teeth flashed again in what was supposed to be a polite smile. A fake smile, for that matter. "Of course." She quickly excused herself and fled back into her safe haven. Julia came after me, frowning. "What did he want?" Electra shook her head. "Just complimenting my work. Excuse me, I have two more tables to do..." she trailed off and turned away from the brunette.

"Right, but..." Electra looked over her shoulder. "... he's still waiting for something." Electra ignored her statement. He surely does. As much as she wanted to believe she was paranoid, she couldn't shrug off the strange feeling this man gave her. A serial killer was on the loose, targeting females. A female was found three days ago in an ally only two miles from her apartment building. Electra had no right accusing every male of this crime, but the entire community was on edge, she too.

When her shift ended, Electra gathered her purse and coat before leaving, taking the back entrance. The alley was dark, only partly lit by the lamppost on the sidewalk. Electra's steps quickened as she made her way through the dimly lit alley. The distant memory of the recent murder and the unease it had cast upon the neighborhood lingered in her mind. She couldn't help but replay the news reports in her head and wondered if she was overreacting. But something about the man she had met earlier had set her instincts on edge.

Electra walked in quick, steady steps. Straight to her apartment building. She couldn't wait to take a shower and curl up in bed. Tonight hadn't been extremely busy, but she was still tired from the stress that came with being a cook in a relative popular restaurant.

    Electra heard a faint noise behind her. It was a soft, almost imperceptible footstep. She looked over her shoulder, peering into the darkness of the allies. The streetlamp cast long, eerie shadows, making it difficult to see clearly. She set in a walk again and made it to her apartment building without any difficulties. Electra locked the doors behind her but didn't turn on the lights. A part of her told her not to.

She peered through the window blinds, looking down at the quiet street below. The world outside was bathed in the eerie glow of the streetlights, casting long shadows that danced like sinister specters. And then she saw him. At the edge of the street, partially hidden by the darkness, there he stood—a figure cloaked in shadows, his face obscured by the hood of his jacket. He was staring up at her apartment building, unmoving, like a statue carved from the darkest of nightmares.

Electra's heart hammered in her chest, and she stood frozen. Panic rose inside her as she watched him, but she didn't dare move away from the window and only prayed that he couldn't see her through the blinds. It definitely hadn't been paranoia. She swallowed hard. If she turned on the lights, he would know in which apartment she lived and would most likely target it if his intentions were indeed to kill her.

While she watched, the male's head turned, skimming each window, taking in every detail of the building. Then his head turned fully towards her window, and she saw it then. Two bright, piercing red eyes stared directly at her like twin flames of malevolence. They seemed to glow with an otherworldly intensity, casting an eerie crimson light on the man's hooded face. They were eyes unlike any she had ever seen, eyes that felt like they belonged to a creature, not of this world. It was evil. Pure evil. She felt it in every part of her body, and this male seemed to look straight through her soul. Had he seen her?

She couldn't look away, paralyzed by the chilling gaze that seemed to bore into her soul. The seconds felt like an eternity as Electra and the male locked eyes through the window, the world outside fading into insignificance. It was a silent battle of wills, and she felt herself losing ground to the malevolent force that emanated from those red eyes. But just as suddenly as it had begun, the man turned away, his hood concealing his face again, and he disappeared into the shadows.

Electra was left trembling, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind unable to comprehend what she had just witnessed. A part of her knew that this was far from over, that whatever this man or creature was would return. She turned away and closed all the curtains and blinds but still refused to turn on the lights. Instead, she huddled onto her bed, a knife from her kitchen clutched in her hand. She wouldn't be completely defenseless, but what could she do if someone would break in? Electra didn't sleep that night.

Electra's body was still full of fear and adrenaline the next morning. She had refused to leave her apartment building but ran out of groceries. She usually waited until the dark to avoid as much social interaction as possible, but going out after what she witnessed the last day seemed foolish. The stalker could return and decide to do something. Would the police even believe if she went to the station? There was little doubt they would question it, maybe wave it off as a hallucination and madness.

Electra quickly decided to go out now and lock herself up for the rest of the day. Maybe forever. She opened the door and peeked into the hallway. No one was around. She yanked the door further open and locked it behind her. Her anxiety lessened when she reached the busy street. As much as she tried to avoid other human beings, she was glad to have people around. It gave her a sense of safety, but her eyes never stopped skimming the streets and allies.

It was just a short fifteen-minute stroll from her apartment, and along the way, she passed by several charming clothing shops that always piqued her interest. The familiar storefronts, with their vibrant window displays, added a touch of color to her routine. As she made her way down the bustling sidewalk, she couldn't help but glance at the clothing boutiques she passed. Mannequins displayed the latest fashions, and colorful garments hung in the windows, catching the sunlight in a dazzling display. The changing seasons were reflected in the styles on offer, from cozy winter coats to breezy summer dresses.

    She hated her social anxiety and everything that came with it. Electra often found herself deciding against entering a shop or ask for a piece of clothing in a smaller size. Simply because she couldn't bring herself to ask, to look someone in the eyes or be touched. She used to depend a lot on others to help her through the basics. It hadn't always been that way. 

Electra approached the entrance of the grocery store, and she couldn't help but notice that the parking lot was unusually packed. It was a sight she hadn't seen in a while, as the store was typically less crowded during the times she chose to shop. She glanced around at the numerous cars, searching for a parking space. Every row seemed to be filled, and it appeared that many shoppers had chosen this moment to stock up on groceries. The tight parking situation added to her growing sense of unease and social anxiety. It meant inside the shop was equally as packed.

Electra walked inside and pulled out a cart. She couldn't stand the feeling of people brushing against her when she passed or the loud noises. Electra ground her teeth and set in a walk. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered with an annoying hum, casting a sterile, artificial glow over the aisles lined with neatly stacked shelves. Shoppers bustled about, and the familiar sights and sounds of the store provided a comforting illusion of normalcy. She was grateful none of them acknowledged her presence.

Electra reached the canned goods section, where shelves of products stretched high above her head. She eyed the top shelf, just out of her reach, and sighed in frustration. The cans she needed were stacked at the back, and she was just too small to reach them. Electra reached up on her tiptoes, stretching her arm as far as it would go. Her fingertips brushed the edge of a can, but it remained frustratingly out of grasp. She was about to give up and look for an employee to help when a tall, muscular figure suddenly appeared beside her. A chill ran down her spine as she glanced up, and her breath caught in her throat. This was the same man she met at the restaurant the other day, wishing to talk to her.

"Need help?" His electric blue and golden onyx flecked eyes almost seemed to glow. As eerie as he was, she couldn't get over the fact he was outstandingly beautiful and handsome. Smelled good, too. Like midnight storms and something else she couldn't identify.

    Sunstreaker effortlessly reached up and plucked the can from the top shelf, his movements fluid and unnaturally calm. He turned toward her, holding out the can with an unsettlingly polite smile. "Here you go," he said in a calm, almost soothing voice.

Electra took the can and felt him brush his fingers against hers. It sent a shiver down her spine. Sunstreaker's eyes landed on the cart she had been pushing around. "Are you able to carry that all the way home?" She looked at the essentials she had collected on her way to this aisle with an empty glance. Her head was still spinning. "Y-yes, I'll be fine, thank you." Sunstreaker had a very calm, cold, and emotionless demeanor. Something she had noticed the other day but seemed much more prominent now. "Are you sure? I can give you a ride."

It set off all the red flags in her mind. Hopping in a stranger's car? Never in a million years. "I am good, thank you." She repeated and avoided his eyes, hating how those eyes seemed to stare into her soul. They might as well stripped her naked. "You are not much of a talker, are you?" Electra nervously picked at her fingernails, trying to maintain her composure. She could feel his presence looming, his proximity making her skin crawl. And then, he leaned in closer, his words dripping with a dark, cold humor. "Relax, you don't think I am a serial killer, do you?" It was taunting, and his words were as sharp as the sharpest butcher knife she owned.

The question hung in the air, heavy and menacing. Electra's heart pounded in her chest as she finally met his gaze. Sunstreaker continued to watch her, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "N-no, of course not..." Her voice trembled, and she hated it. "Allow me to help you then," He insisted. No. No. No. She didn't want his help, but the way his tone lowered hinted he was losing patience.

She desperately wanted to back away, to flee from this menacing glare, but something in his demeanor kept her rooted to the spot. The man's faint smile persisted as if amused by her fear. "I am good, thank you." Her trembling hands reached for the cart. "Pity. I'd like to get to know you." She looked over her shoulder. Electra heard the slight inflection of his voice and saw in his body language that he was sincere, which starkly contrasted with what his eyes were saying: I am dangerous, I am lethal and I can't be trusted.

"I understand your... concerns about stepping in my car, especially with the serial killer on the lose. At least accept my invitation to meet me tonight at Neon Noir." It was a popular but small club. One that Electra had avoided for as long as she could remember. "I am not doing very well with loud noises and packed rooms." He studied her all the way from her shoes to her head, marking every detail for later analyses, no doubt. "Very well, a lunch then? Tomorrow at 12 p.m. at Fresh & Feasty."

Electra stared at him for a very long time, carefully considering his invitation. Every part of her body screamed to turn it down, and she was convinced that this young man's intentions weren't always noble, yet she was too afraid to turn it down. Maybe if she accepted it, he would leave. She didn't have to show up tomorrow, but the signals he gave were both hostile and interested. As if he couldn't decide what he felt or wanted. "Alright..." She replied slowly, her hands tightening on the cart. Sunstreaker seemed pleased with her brief but clear response.

"Good. I will see you tomorrow."