The Stranger Chapters Novels & Stories

Almost instinctively, I pulled out my phone and checked my browsing history for the video from last night. In it, the side profiles of the two elderly people were identical to the faces of my in-laws standing before me now. If the clip hadn't flashed by so quickly, I would have recognized them right away. And in other videos—those fleeting, fragmented moments—my wife, Cynthia Muller, appeared again and again, holding a child in her arms. The little boy called her "Mom" with intimate affection. Under a sky lit by fireworks, the man held her close and kissed her.

Her breath caught. It had been a long time. Too long. And it shouldn’t be this. Not to the sound of a stranger’s voice. Not to someone she hadn’t spoken to. Not to someone she couldn’t trust. But her body didn’t care about any of that. When she came, it was quiet. Shallow. Shameful. The kind that left a sting behind her eyelids. She didn’t sleep again. The next day was warm. The kind of dry heat that stuck to the skin and made clothes feel too tight.

“That’s nice. But I should really—” “Wait.” His voice was firm, commanding enough to still my steps. “What’s your name?” “I don’t tell my name to strangers,” I muttered, turning away. But before I could move, his hand caught my arm. Startled, my feet tangled beneath me. I stumbled, bracing for the cold floor—but instead I collided with something hard, warm. My heartbeat roared in my ears.

“I know something is off. That’s not Laurel upstairs. Her mannerisms are all wrong. Her habits. Her eyes. The handwriting style on Morel's school note last week did not resemble Laurel's handwriting. I squeezed the stair railing harder while my blood turned to ice. Dr. Shawty urged me to lower my voice while scanning the area quickly. You may be correct but you shouldn’t accuse people like that. It’s more complicated than you think.” My legs trembled. He was going to tell her. He was about to expose me! “Complicated?” Lillian scoffed. “My son’s been living with a stranger! My grandson addresses a woman as ‘Mommy’ whom he just met and who remains unaware of his bedtime schedule. I couldn’t li

And curiosity, in my world, always ended in blood. END OF CHAPTER 1

*Charlotte* The icy blue eyes of the stranger flickered from me to the now passed-out drunk man who attempted to molest me as he laid out on the ground, bleeding from the injuries. The pieces of the teapot scattered across the floor crunched under his heavy boot as he took a step forward, a flicker of hesitance on his face as though he didn’t quite know whether to approach me or the man. It crossed my attention, though as I glanced over at the spot he had been sitting at all night, that he had gotten over to us suspiciously quick. Even at a full dead sprint, anyone would find it difficult to cover that distance in such a short amount of time.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as I waited for the stranger to arrive. Finally, I heard the commotion of footsteps approaching my room. The door swung open, and there stood the stranger, his eyes filled with a kind and determined resolve. He extended a hand towards me, and without hesitation, I took it, feeling a rush of newfound strength and hope. The stranger had come to rescue me from Tristan, and I knew that my prayers had been answered. With his help, I would finally break free from this nightmare and find the salvation I had so desperately sought, for I was no longer alone in my struggle for freedom.

Three The stranger could detect the strong scent of alcohol on Florence’s breath despite the scent of rain hitting the dry ground, but he refrained from making any judgmental comments. He observed her distress, her tears flowing freely, and he understood very well that she was going through a difficult time and everyone did go through something somewhere. Even earlier, from the safety of his car, he had witnessed her collapse onto the sidewalk, her cries echoing through the rain. He knew that she was not the only person in her suffering, that everyone, in their own way, was battling their own demons. He was battling his own demons as well.

“Urghh!” I grumbled out of frustration as I watch the tattooed stranger drive out of my street. The jerk made me beg him for sex only to turn me down, apparently he had a child to take care of and couldn’t stay but still didn’t make any attempt to ask for my number or even give his, such a jerk. I hissed and headed inside my tiny apartment, the emptiness welcomed me once again. It’s always been just me ever since Henry got hospitalized, we lived together after my graduation.

WARNING!! There is a 20% brutal scene in this chapter. NALANI It seems like I'm in another situation now that I don't know when it started. I don't know why there had to be two men holding me left and right with the crowd—it seemed we were in a field and in the middle of it was a stage where a man had his neck placed below the blade that was also placed on the upper part of the frame.