"Hermione." Harry said, his voice shaking. "Please, believe me. I'm not being paranoid. I can. . . I can feel the eyes on me whenever I go. Come get me. I'm going to die."
He heard her shuffling at the other end of the phone. She sighed, breathing deeply. "Harry. Look around and see. You're just being paranoid, the horror movie we watched just unsettled you a bit. Your nerves haven't been right since Halloween. I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Hermione-" She cut the call. Harry fell back into the bench, tears pricking at his eyes. Why was nobody believing him? It wasn't as if his request was difficult. He was only about 50 miles away. Why couldn't she just believe him?
He felt the chill again. Goosebumps sprung on his arms, fear running straight down his spine. He spun around, stumbling back against the tree. The moon seemed to be laughing at him. "W-who's there?" He called out in a shaky voice. "Show yourself!"
It was silent. Harry still felt the presence behind the trees. He turned and ran. His feet hit against the pavement, slamming against the empty street. The city lights were not getting any closer and every turn led to a dark dead end.
Tears splashed down his cheeks. I am going to die. He heard footsteps behind him, harsh breathing mere steps away from him. The person seemed to be laughing at his distress. Harry didn't dare turn his head towards the source of the noise.
He could sense the hands creeping around his neck. Harry dashed forward, swerving into one of the trees before throwing himself at the bushes. His body was small enough to wriggle into the small space and Harry burst into another side of the forest, trees and sticks leading all over.
Harry ran into the farthest side of the forest, tripping and falling on the branches. The stalker would get him if he ever stopped. He nearly slammed into trees every minute, scratches littered across his arms. His forehead was bleeding from the thorns in the bush.
He checked his pockets every time he was sure he could afford slowing down, but Hermione did not pick up again.
"You can run, but you can't hide." Harry froze, his body paralyzing in fear. He remembered the voice. The charming voice that would always make his lips quirk and make him all fuzzy inside.
Arms wrapped around his waist, forcing him against the person's chest.
"Please, please, Tom, let me go." Harry begged. "I didn't do anything to you. Let me go, please!"
Tom Riddle nibbled at the shell of his ear. "No."
Harry didn't dare breathe. Hands plunged into his shirt, fingers leaving trails of fire everywhere they touched.
"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked desperately. He tried to shove him with his elbow, but a knife to his throat forced him to stop all movement. "You broke up with me, not the other way around. Why..?"
Tom dragged his knife across his throat. Dots of blood appeared on his neck and Harry's vision blurred from pure black to dark red. "Because," He snarled. "You won't listen to me! I told you. I told you I regretted it. But you just want your way, always!"
Harry was thrown against the tree. Tom blocked him, pressing against him. "I fell for Bellatrix's trap and I didn't realize what I was losing." He continued, lovingly caressing his thighs. "But I told you! I told you I was sorry! But, no, you wanted to hold a grudge. I love you."
Tom forced him to turn around. His eyes seemed to glint red in the silver night, his mouth curled into a snarl and his eyes dead. Eyes of a psychopath.
"But that's okay." He dropped his voice low, as if he was scared to startle him. He leaned down until their noses were nearly touching. "I don't need you to say yes. I can just-. . . Take you with me. You'll never run away again."
Harry tried to kick his shin, but Tom grabbed his leg, lifting him higher against the tree until Harry's legs were wrapped around his waist. The knife sat cold on Harry's wrist.
He kissed him, forcing his mouth on Harry's. He made a sound of protest, struggling against him, but Tom shoved his knee against his crotch and Harry's movements died. He dropped the knife, grabbing both his wrist and tightening them against the rough tree bark with a single hand.
He pushed his front against him, burying his nose in Harry's hair. Tears spilled out of Harry's eyes, not for the first time.
He was going to die.