Stalker 101 (Book 1)

The muted sounds of true crime faded into the background as I pulled the blanket tighter around me. The documentary was a gruesome account of Alexander Filan, a name that sent a chill down my spine, even through the thin fabric. "Oh god, if I looked like that, I'd murder people too," I whispered, a morbid joke to myself. Just as I reached for the remote, a creak echoed through the old house.
It wasn't the usual settling of old wood; this was louder, more insistent. My breath hitched. It was real this time. It had to be. A voice, cold and sharp, sliced through the silence of the room. "You need to learn some respect for the dead, sweetheart."
My blood ran cold. The television screen reflected a distorted image of my terrified face. I was alone, wasn't I?
