I've been obsessed with her since the first moment I saw her. My need for her all consuming. I knew that eventually she'd be mine, but at the beginning I was willing to take whatever piece of her I could get. So, I resigned myself to watching her. At first it was just secretly, at night while she slept, when the shadows and darkness hid my lurking figure. It was thrilling to watch her without her knowledge, to see her in her most private moments, completely vulnerable. I would watch her doing simple things like laying in bed and reading a book. But I also watched her at times when I knew she'd want no one watching, times when she thought she was all alone. 

Over time I started to wonder if she knew I was watching. I imagined her putting on a little show just for me. Times when she walked around in just her panties and oversized sweater, bending over to pick something up, I wondered if that was for me, for my watching eyes that stalked her figure from within the shadows. I knew she would never admit it, not even to herself, but I knew that she enjoyed me watching her and fantasizing about her. 

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Eventually my need for her grew. I no longer got the same satisfaction by just watching her. I wanted more and I sensed she did too. I put cameras in her house to see more of her, to have more of her. It was simple enough to get into her home. I broke in when she was out, picking her locks within a few seconds. The smell of her hit me as soon as I entered her room. It was intoxicating, consuming. My lust for her grew to an almost unimaginable level just from her scent. I pIaced cameras, hidden carefully, around her house. I wanted to watch her every move. I couldn't control her, not yet anyway, but knowing that I could watch her whenever I wanted gave me the power I craved. 

I was the Devil, and she my Persephone. Whether she liked it or not, I would drag her to the depths of Hell with me.