The Prey

He was looking at me. At least that’s what it seemed like.

Unshielded hunter’s eyes, staring right through my soul and piercing me as if he could demolish me whole. Finish me whole. Shifting unconsciously, trying to ignore the sensation of my wet jeans clinging to my legs and the damp sweater plastered against my skin. The cold I felt seeped deeper than the fabric or the snow that had snuck into my jacket. It was his gaze that truly chilled me to the bone.

That unbothered, unfocused, hollow gaze.

I wondered what was happening in his head, and the icy draft slipping in from the slightly open...