Chapter one:

The one I used to yearn

At an ungodly hour of the dark morning, Elizabeth Lane had lapsed into perfect silence. In fact, for the past three hours, nothing had gone bump in the night. Though it was now that something quite literally went bump; a lone figure, as they moved through the constant shadow.
The ghost crept quietly along the sidewalk, his shoes covered by a thick pair of socks to mute any possible noise they made as he slowly walked the street.

His hands were pushed deep into his pockets, the texture of the rubber gloves rubbing weirdly against his own flesh. Yet the rubber was strangely calming, like a warm cup of tea slipping down your throat on a cold winter morning.
He rubbed his fingers together slowly, letting the feeling of the rubber soothe his nerves.

For so long he had awaited this night. And now it was finally here. He could finally get the vengeance that he had tasted every hour of the day, for the past 623 days. Why had it taken so long, do you ask?
Because vengeance was best when performed by a perfectionist, and a perfectionist never rushes.

He finally stopped. In the darkness, he could only just make out that the house he stood before. The question of whether it was the right one.
For a moment, he stood there, squinting into the dark.
But then he noticed the deflated balloons that still hung on the mailbox, only slightly swaying back and forth in the light breeze.
Yes, this was the house.

With a satisfied grin, he began to creep forward. Halfway up the driveway, he maneuvered to the grass, where he silently began to walk alone the grass. In the black of the night, it seemed he was walking on air over a black abyss. And so the rake, lying upturned in the grass, went unseen.
His first foot slipped under it, the second getting caught as he moved. Stumbling, unable to catch himself, he fell onto the floor.

Although he made no noise, he laid still, afraid to move in case by some cursed miracle somewhere had heard him.
After a few long moments though, he pushed himself up slowly. Quickly, without delay, he walked up to the darkened glass that was the side door.
Shrugging off the backpack that hung heavily from him, he quietly unzipped it and let his gloved hands fumble through it.

Having retrieved a lock pick from the dark depths of his bag, he broke into the house. From this point on it was all simple; fun and games.
Remembering to shut and re-lock the door behind him, he crept through the lonely house.

Memories invaded his mind. Some very pleasant, though most horribly painful. In fact, most brought a pain to his stomach and the bitter taste of blood to his tongue.
Those were memories better left in the past. And those were the memories that lead on his desire for vengeance.

It was the fourth door on the right. That small thing had never changed.
As he crept towards the white wood door, the brass handle reflecting a ghost light, he began to tremble.
He was really going to do it. He was really going to get her back.

The handle twisted with a slight squeal, but nothing loud enough or long enough to wake her up.
And surprisingly, the door made no cries of protest as he pushed open the door. It was as if it had been well oiled on yesterday, when he knew for a fact it had been seven months since the door had been oiled last.
But, all oil aside, he moved into the room, and dropped his bag.

Through the veil of night time darkness, he saw her. One hand shoved between her cheek and her pillow, her chest rising and falling slowly, bringing the covers up and down with the movements.
She seemed so peaceful in her sleep. So innocent.
But with the thought, “You know better then that”, he reached into his bag.

Bringing out a roll of duck tape, his quickly ripped off a piece. Surprisingly, she still didn’t awaken.
Silently, he passed over the space between himself and the bed. Reaching down, he gently peeled the tape over her mouth.

Just as her eyes began to flutter open, he grabbed her wrists. It only took her a minute, as she looked up at him, and realized the situation.
‘Hello, Gorgeous.’ He chuckled, as she tried to scream, her body beginning to thrash about wildly in her terror.