From the Archive: The Stalker's Confession.

A short story from my writing archives. I wrote this story back in 2021. I hope you like it!

Notes: this is a short story I wrote back in 2021. It’s about two people meeting at a bar — with one of them intending to kill the other. Yet everything takes a rather interesting turn, when Layton realizes Alex may not have been as bad as he’d thought. There’s a lot in this story left to speculation, as to why Layton was supposed to kill Alex. Overall though, I was pretty content with it when I first wrote it. But reading through it again, there’s a lot I’d probably change. Maybe I’ll revisit it eventually.

Story contains mentions of murdering and stalking.

Certainly the expectation wasn't to actually kill the person, right? Layton and Alex had just met, and the two managed to even hit things off well. The bar was supposed to close in just a few hours, but Layton hadn't even finished his first drink yet. Alcohol wasn't important to him, at least, not right now. Alex had something he wanted, and he was going to get it no matter what it took.

"Hey- Hey! You okay?" Alex asked. Layton hadn't realized he had been staring off at his drink, barely grazing it with his finger. He looked up at Alex- who looked at him with sincere worry growing on their face- and then smiled softly. 

"Of course," He said. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

Alex sighed and took Layton's hands, cupping them in their own. Their face was rather worn, like they had seen a great deal of things. A strange twinkle in their eye betrayed their admiration for the man beside them. 

"Killing another person is difficult," Layton suddenly whispered, as if he had no control over revealing his own thoughts. It had been several months since he last felt the loving touch of another person, and now he was starting to rethink his mission. Alex's expression didn't change, so Layton continued. "I don't think I can kill you." 

"I know," Alex said, then softly squeezed Layton's hand. "You don't have to..." 

"I don't?" Layton asked. Alex was being too kind, and Layton's body responded to it in ways he'd never understand. Could he perhaps, actually live the rest of his life with this person? They had everything he ever strived to be. Didn't he have to? He had been literally stalking Alex for years, and now- just now, the two had finally shared a glass together. 

"Alex... I have to confess." The person looked at him curiously, like they were a tiny puppy staring at a giant Great Dane. Layton slid his hands out of Alex's and rested them onto the table they were sitting at. "You just met me, but I- I..." tears were welling up in his eyes. "We shouldn't be together, I stalked you for years-" 

Alex's expression didn't change. 

"I contemplated murder," Layton further confessed, tears now streaming down his face. "I don't even know what I'd want so badly from you that would make me think of that. And now, as we're sitting here together... I need help," He admitted, and lowered his head against the table. He was crying, and he felt so terrible. 

Alex mumbled something, but Layton didn't hear them. Only then did Layton feel the delicate sensation of Alex's hand running through his hair. How could they remain so calm? Layton wondered if Alex had dealt with this sort of scenario before. 

"We'll get you some help," Alex promised, whispering into the sobbing mans ear. "Okay?" They extended out a hand towards Layton, then flexed their pinky finger. A moment of silence passed between the two, save for the man still crying. Alex's finger hovered in the air, waiting patiently for the agreement to be met. 

"Okay," Layton whispered back. 

What did you think of this short story? Let me know in the comments. And if you want to keep up with future archive postings, consider subscribing to the newsletter. All support is appreciated.