Funny Stalkers Novels & Stories

“Coincidence?” Evan barked a laugh. “Coincidences don’t happen this often. Trust me. I ran checks on old police reports. Guess what? Not a single stalker was ever caught. Ever. You’d think after four different schools, someone would’ve slipped up. It was as if the stalkers just… disappeared.”

Reaper stood beside Stalker, watching as she punched the bag with precision and power. "Hey, Stalker, you think you're tough?" Reaper teased, his voice laced with amusement. "I've seen better form on a prospect." Stalker turned to him, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "Stay away from me, Reaper. I'm focusing." Reaper chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Can't stay away, Stalker. You're too much fun to watch. Besides, I'm just trying to help." Stalker's expression darkened. "You're not helping. You're distracting me."

Wyatt said finally. "Then you need to understand something. Stalkers don't see obstacles as people. They see them as problems to be solved. And sometimes..." She paused, choosing her words with extreme care. "Sometimes problems get solved in permanent ways. Sometimes people who stand between a stalker and their target have accidents. Car accidents. Muggings gone wrong. Random violence that can't be traced back to anyone specific." "Jesus," Lauren whispered. "I can't prove any of this," Sarah continued. "I can't share case files or make accusations. But I can tell you to be careful. To trust your instincts. To take every precaution." She looked at Lauren. "Do you have a firearms license?"

"Now I don't mean to sound like a...stalker but I know a lot more about you than you think." So he is a stalker? Fun! Cool! Intriguing! Tell me more! Honestly it suits him, he's got that look about him in his eyes. Just kidding, because if he actually was a stalker, hah, I'd not be caught dead in two feet near him. He's a crazy guy though and makes me sometimes think , does he actually value his life because a lot of the time he says and makes the most weirdest choices I've ever seen and I'd realised this when I saw him leaning against my dorm room and it's like when did he get there and he proceeds to start flirting with me, his own sisters friend right bang in front of her? Since they're s

Brack asked with a strange look on his face. “Nothing,” I replied. He absolutely would not want to know my problem. After another bite of steak, Brack continued. “Chances are good there won’t be a DNA match.” This surprised me. “Why do you say that?” His eyes intensified. “He’s smart and in most cases, stalkers keep a low profile until they find that special someone who activates their warped side.” I had enough guilt thinking this was entirely my fault. “Gee, thanks. That makes me feel better. Just call me Warped Activators R Us.”

Gianna echoed, glancing at the bathroom door consciously before bringing her voice lower. “So my stalker's also a bike thief?” “Apparently, there's been a string of similar incidents lately. Word on the street is it's a bunch of delinquent high schoolers doing this. They follow people around, scare the shit out of them and maybe lift a wallet or two.” Gianna mulled over the news as Sonia kept talking. Something about the incident told her it was different…whoever that person was, he certainly didn’t feel to her like some punk kid.

He slowly walked closer to the kitchen counter and sat in front of the dish, still smiling. Somehow, after all the time when the stalker had made him foods, he expected the stalker to make him some hangover soup after his party, and they really did it. It kinda made him happy though. He then scooped the soup and savour the first taste. The soup has a slight spiciness in it but it was smooth on the throat, a very good condiment after drinking some dry alcohol. Even until the weekend ended and the school started, Ricky kept on wondering about the stalker. The only clue that he have was that the stalker wasn't a human.

He smirked leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head, putting his legs on the table like he owned the place “well if it isn't my little ass-kicking warrior.” I let out a short amused snort, folding my arms across my chest. I could play this game better than he could and I was not going to let him scare me. There were a dozen kids behind the door all I had to do was scream and believe me when I say, I’m a screamer. "I'm not your anything, thief," I retorted emphasizing the term of possession. This is how it all begins I tell you. I had watched enough crime shows to know stalkers always think they own their prey. I had to make that point clear. I'll be damned if I was connected to that

I asked him one day hoping that he would mistakenly give me the same mail id that the stalker uses. "Mail? You have my number, Anu. We have W******p. You can message or call me anytime." he said. "Just give me your mail id." I insisted. "Anu, Mails are just to start the conversation. They are very old fashioned. We are more than friends now." he said. I am now very sure that he is Mr. Stalker, why else would he not give me his mail id? "More than friends?" I asked him.

There is a thin line between fight or flight, called freeze. Liqufied mass holding her breath in her throat is the evidence. “Having fun?” he pointed his chin to the lingerie bag. If the hoarse, gravelly voice didn’t do the job, his massacring smile does. “Come, I need to talk to you” the limbless puppet roughly pulled to stand and dragged to exit the restaurant. Gone the playboy in Suman. Hello to the raw, cold man. His stalking finally paid off. The image of her in a sexy neon pink sleeping gown pushed the boundaries of stalking to staking. If only he could pursue her…