"Dear Caleb,

We hope the gifts we've been sending are to your taste; we worked hard to find what you like. We know you may not like the attention now, but you'll have to get used to it. We plan on spoiling you more. Hopefully, we'll be able to meet soon.

You'd like that, right?"

Caleb barely stopped himself from crumpling the letter and throwing it across the room, as if putting distance between himself and the paper would get rid of the sick, sinister feeling in his stomach. He dropped the letter and stood, lurching towards the bathroom. He fell to his knees in front of the toilet and vomited.

'We'? As in more than one person? And the letter had said they'd be sending more gifts-- how much longer could he keep-- well, hide-- this from his parents? It was ruining his life. He felt sick and anxious all the time, could barely eat or sleep, and jumped every time he thought he heard a noise coming from the porch. It was making him go crazy, and now it was getting worse?

Caleb wiped his mouth on his sleeve and flushed the toilet, pulling himself up by the sink. He splashed cold water on his face and toweled it off, but nothing helped the flush he felt in his cheeks. He was startled-- no. He was scared.

* * * 

Another letter. 

"Dear Caleb,

Would you be interested in meeting us? We've been dying to see you. How much longer must we wait? You should come to the park on (x) street. Eight o' clock, tomorrow. 

We'll see you there, Caleb."

It had only been three days since the first letter, and here was another. It had been taped to his door in the same fashion as the last, and looked identical to the first, except that this one had a gift card folded in the paper of the letter. Caleb gritted his teeth as he stormed to his closet and yanked out the shoebox, dropping the card inside and putting the whole thing back away. He wanted it all out of sight, out of mind. It freaked him out and he was done with it.

But. . . but what if he didn't go? Would it be dangerous? Would these mysterious people hurt him if he didn't show up? They obviously knew where he lived-- and that he was alone most of the time. 

Caleb shook his head. No. No way in hell he should go. 

He headed down into the dim and empty kitchen, his paranoia making him tiptoe around like a burglar in his own home as he crept towards the fridge, one ear turned to the door to listen for any concerning noises. He snatched a plate of leftovers and a fork and dashed back up to his room, feeling foolish. He'd turned into a total hermit these days, all because of someone else.

He sat in the floor with the letter in front of him, staring at it. Curiosity was eating him up from the inside out like and angry swarm of bees in his blood. This could be his only chance to find out who it was, right? What if he could get these people to stop stalking him? Or at least see who it was from a distance and report it to the police? But then his parents might be involved. . .

No. It was safer to stay right here, locked away in his house. No way he was going out there with some creep-- not even if the curiosity ate him alive.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Caleb pulled his hood tighter around him as the gentle wind tried to snatch it off. He cursed himself for coming. He should have stayed home.

The park was mostly deserted by now as dusk painted the sky a rusty orange. Caleb stood slouched up against a tree, where he hoped he'd be able to see his 'secret admirer' before they saw him. His plan was to get a good look and then slip away before he was noticed. 

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear anyone come up behind him until it was too late.

Arms wrapped around his waist as a hoarse voice whispered in his ear. "Hello, pretty little thing. Watcha doin' out here?"

Caleb shoved his way out of the tight grasp and whipped around to see an old man, taller and bigger than him, less-than-clean and clearly at least some level of dangerous. You didn't just sneak up and grab kids like that without bad intentions. 

Caleb quickly backtracked to put some distance between him and the old man, but the man was quick to mirror the steps. Caleb tripped and went down hard, and the man saw that as his opportunity to move in. He jumped--more like fell-- on top of Caleb, knocking the breath out of him. He planted his hands on the boy's shoulders and leaned closer.

                Part 9 Coming Soon