He pulled up to the average suburban house on a warm day in Oregon. He parked his big, tan, Chevy truck in the driveway and stepped out. This will do, he thought to himself. Slightly annoyed he walked up the front steps and into the house. He set down his bag and looked around. Three floors, plus a good sized basement. You’ll be needing that basement, his mind whispers. A chill runs down his spine and he shivers slightly, despite the warmer weather. Disregarding this, he walks back outside to gather the rest of his things. Lowering the door on the bed of the truck he pulls out several bags. He leaves only one bag, the bag. Quickly he shuts the door and glances up only to find a girl, about 15 to 16, watching him, trying to be discrete. He raises a hand and waves slightly, she watches with utter interest and immediately backs away from the window, obviously embarrassed. He grinned inwardly and sauntered into the house.

Cassie was beet red. He caught me staring, ugh! She sank back against the dark purplish, maroon wall in her den, wishing she could just disappear. Well…he was pretty cute... She smiled to herself as she thought about her new cute neighbor.

He looked like he was in his early twenties; he wore black rimmed glasses and had clean cut hair with a small amount of stubble on his chin. So cute! Her heart squirmed in her chest. Cassie checked the window and once she was sure he was gone, she got up and plopped down on the couch. Pressing the power button on the remote, the TV glowed to life.

“Boring...boring...boring...” she muttered to herself as she flipped through the countless channels.

“The Salem serial killer has been suspiciously quiet for the past...” the newscaster announces. Cassie’s attention turns to the words the short blonde newscaster is saying. “After fifteen brutal murders in the last three months, the killings have mysteriously stopped. Investigators are still hard at work trying to find the anonymous killer, but for now, we’re just glad the killings have stopped.”

Salem? That’s only like...forty miles from here. Cassie’s heart started to pound in her chest, what if he comes here? What if he kills me? Of course, her mind just had to think of all of this when it was getting dark and her parents weren’t home yet. Get a grip Cassie, you’re fine.

She decided that she’d better just go upstairs. She turned off the TV and slowly climbed the large carpeted staircase, turning out the lights as she went. Stopping at her room she crossed the floor and plopped her self down at her desk, turning on her computer as she did. Her very fat and lazy cat Rufus got up from his position on her bed and stretched out. He hopped down and nudged her leg, purring and meowing at her. Rolling her eyes she picked him up and rubbed his ears, just the way he liked.

While her computer started up, she took Rufus over to her window seat and set him down on his cat bed. She glanced up and saw that her new neighbor’s lights were on. Leaning closer to the window, she peered over at his house. A shiver ran down her spine and she squinted her eyes. All of the sudden, there he was. His face, sullen and dark, staring back at her through the window. She jumped up and closed her shade quickly. Okay...that was just plain creepy. Trying to shake of the chills she now had, Cassie sat down at her desk and logged on to her computer. As her homepage came up, the entire screen was plastered with news of this “Salem serial killer”. Her heart rate quickened and she clicked on an article. Skimming through it she could feel the pink flesh of her cheeks brighten with panic and fear.

Slowly Cassie crept back over to the window. Peering around the shades she saw her neighbor in the driveway, her driveway. What’s he doing here?

The doorbell rang and Cassie froze. Should I open it? My parents aren’t even home... He knocked on the door a few times, crap! He already knows I’m here, I have to open it!

Cassie practically sprinted down the stairs and to the door. Unlocking it, she flung it open and there he stood. He was taller than she expected and even more gorgeous up close. She tilted her head back and stared up at him.

“Hi,” she squeaked out.

He smiled warmly and cleared his throat, “Hello, my name’s Jack Withering. I just moved in across the street.”

“I’m Cassie Ortanan. It’s nice to meet you.” She tried her best to sound normal and not drool over him.

“Cassie? Short for Cassandra?” she hated her full name. She nodded as he continued. “What a lovely name, you don’t go by Cassandra?”

She shook her head. “Only my parents call me that really, I don’t really like it.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably.

“Mmm I see, well I should be going now, don’t forget to lock your doors Cassandra, never know who could be lurking around.” He said with such a Cheshire cat grin, she squirmed uncomfortably.

She shut the door as soon as he was off her doorstep. What the hell was that all about? And why did he use my full name after I told him I went by Cassie? Gorgeous of not, that guy gives me the creeps. She locked the door and searched her house for anything that was unlocked and locked it.

Walking down the front steps of Cassie Ortanan’s house, Jack knew he had her right where he wanted her. Teenage girls were so easy to get to. He waltzed back over to his house and started on his plans for Miss Cassie.

Three weeks of having Jack live across the street and Cassie’s suspicion had only gotten worse. There were girls missing, and Cassie had a feeling she knew why.

Cassie was going to prove him guilty.

How should I do this? I need to prove that he’s the one killing them…he’s got to be stopped. Cassie’s head was spinning with these thoughts. But what could happen to me?

Cassie had her plan. She was going to “take a walk” and casually…stalk him. It was Friday; he usually had a “date” on Friday’s. It was around 10 pm when his truck pulled into his driveway. There was a woman in his truck, bingo.

She slid into her favorite black jeans and a dark grey hoodie. Pulling on her old faded Converse tennis shoes, her heart started to pound in her chest. I’m really going to do this.

Stepping out of her house she walked around the block a few times to clear her head, because she knew he wouldn’t just kill her instantly. Finally she got the courage to follow through with her plan.

She knelt down behind his truck and watched the window, waiting for any kind of movement. After about fifteen minutes she stood, feeling defeated. She had no proof, just a nasty suspicion. She turned and smacked right into something tall and sturdy. She looked up and there he stood, the gorgeous, yet terrifying Jack.

“Looking for something Cassandra?” he spat out at her.

Cassie stood, frozen in fear as Jack stared her down. There was crimson red blood staining his hands. She knew he had killed the woman from before. She searched for words, not knowing what to say or do.

“I know what you do. Give it up, they’ll catch you.” Cassie said, her words coming out shaky and weak.

He chuckled. “Tell me something Cassandra,” she hated the way he used her full name and he knew it, “who’s going to tell the police anything if you’re dead? You were the only person who had any suspicion of me,” her mouth dropped open how did he know that? He chuckled again. “You’re not the only one who’s been watching Cassandra. So tell me, how will they catch me?” His voice was serious and terrifying. Her legs shook.

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. He grinned, you’ve got her right where you want her Jack, his mind was racing, the same it does each and every time.
“You’ve just made a horrible mistake coming here Cassandra.” He tells her, no hint of a joke in his voice. The knife, grab the knife! His mind demanded.
He withdrew a knife from the waistband of his low-rise jeans. Cassie let out a blood curdling scream as he lunged at her, knife in hand. You knew all along, her mind whispered to her, you didn’t do anything. She ran fast as she could, fighting with her mind, and her own two feet. She could hear him behind her, footsteps right on top of hers. She could see the door Keep your feet moving!! Her mind was screeching at her, telling her to get out, and fast. She could see her front door, getting closer she sprinted faster and faster.