After hearing all about how they went to the store and spent some time talking, Darin and Stacy agreed that Nakota would be a perfect fit for Clark. Even Leon didn't seem too upset that his job as sole protector was being stolen. He did like the snacks Clark gave him, however. That following Wednesday, Clark found himself all alone in the house. Nakota was out getting Chinese food. Stacy was on a dinner date with her girlfriends, and Darrin was in Arizona, shooting on location. Normally he'd have invited Clark to come with him, but he knew the boy's answer would be no this time. He'd just picked up a highly-anticipated game, after all.

Leon was slowly starting to warm up to him, and it showed. The two sat on his bed, the dog snoring softly and Clark messing around on his computer. His subscription box on YouDoo was full of videos he hadn't watched yet, and he almost settled in for the night to watch them when his phone buzzed. He'd set a reminder for himself that he was supposed to live stream his game tonight.

He weighed his options and decided it was best to give his viewers what they wanted, considering he'd kind of botched the last live stream. After Clark sent Leon downstairs, he set up his game and waited for it to load. Normally he would have let the dog stay with him, but he had a tendency to shout and holler when he played video games and he didn't want to startle the poor thing.

It took about ten minutes for him to get everything set up, but soon he was sitting in front of his camera and poised to play. He made sure Lawson and his other chat room moderators were ready to go before he started things up. Not even five minutes into his first game he was being called out.

"Obviously you're gonna kill me if you're using that gay ass gun," the stranger yelled through the microphone. Clark smiled to himself.

"Every gun I use is gonna be a gay ass gun, asshole," he retorted. Back when he'd first started his channel, he'd dealt with a lot of jerks like this one online. It was to be expected that someone would use his sexuality as an insult. At the end of the day, it was petty and if that was how they wanted to play, he'd make it his mission to hunt them down specifically.

Clark was on a streak, killing the same user - Muscl3Carr212 - every chance he got. All it took were a few respawns for the man to rage over the mic, screaming that everyone needed to focus on killing Clark. Rather than letting it go, he decided to push the man's buttons even more.

"Aw, sucks that you need to call in back up just to kill little ol' me. Keep practicing, maybe one of these days you can rise to the occasion." Clark was sniped a moment later by a random player in the game, but he couldn't help but laugh.

"This is why people want you dead," someone teased in the chat room.

"Oh, whatever! Not my fault his aim is off." Clark continued his game, and even though his team lost, he was able to rest easy knowing that the Muscl3Carr212 was at the bottom of his team's scoreboard.

"Look at that, Clarphy," the man teased. "Sucks that you couldn't win."

"Coming from someone with three kills and eighteen deaths, you can kneel down and blow me," Clark replied. He muted the other player and put an end to that. The next few games were less hostile. He had a mixed bag of success, half of his games being won and the other being lost. The good thing was that he didn't really play to win. He liked competition, and seeing how well he could do in one game was the best kind of competition. He wanted to constantly break his own records.

Clark glanced down at the screen when he heard a specific tone. Whenever someone with the proper privileges posted a picture, a noise played to notify him. Clark waited until the game was loading before he opened the picture. He stared back at himself in surprise.

"What the hell?" He looked back to see who'd posted it. "Lawson, what's this picture of me for." Rather than receiving an answer, Lawson sent another link. It was the same image. "Lawson, what are you doing?" More links continued popping up. Clark dropped his controller and grabbed his phone from the bed, dialing Lawson's number. As he waited for him to pick up, he scrolled through the chat box. More and more users were disappearing, suddenly being kicked out and banned from his stream. In a panic, Clark tried removing Lawson from the room, only to find that no matter how many times he tried, he received an error message.

"Hello?"

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Lawson asked.

"I'm talking about you mass-kicking everyone out of the stream! Stop!"

"Clark, I'm not even at home. I don't know what you're talking about." Clark put his phone down on the bed, panic settling into his stomach. He tried banning Lawson's account again, to no avail.

Image.

Image.

Image.

Video.

"Shit," Clark breathed. His cursor hovered over the video link for a moment before he clicked. The second he did, he could hear his own muffled voice. "...the fuck are you doing?" The camera approached the window and pressed against the glass. Through the window blinds, he could just barely see himself on the bed, talking to Lawson. He slapped the computer shut and ran downstairs, tearing the modem from the wall. He unplugged everything, making sure the internet was disconnected. He returned upstairs, cutting right to enter his father's office.

Clark checked the video tapes outside. Someone was outside, and they were fucking with him. He scrolled through each one, but nothing came up - not even the one by his bedroom window. "What the hell?"

Downstairs, the door opened.

Sickness bubbled in his throat. Clark felt faint, but he tried his hardest not to lose it. Slowly, he crept to the balcony and looked over. "Hello?"

"Clark?" Nakota stepped towards the stairs and looked up at him. The tone of his voice changed instantly. "What's wrong?"

"He's outside," Clark said. Nakota dropped the food and rushed up to Darin's room. "I already checked," he called after him. Clark slowed his pace and watched Nakota type in the password.

"What do you mean you already checked? Where is he?"

"He's not outside. He's not on any of the cameras, but I swear to God, he was right outside my window. He recorded me through the blinds." Nakota studied the laptop screen, narrowing his eyes.

"This is frozen."

"What?"

"The videos," he said. He pointed to the timestamp in the top right corner. They read eight o'clock, but it was half-past nine. "These aren't live, these are frozen." Clark knew what that meant. The man could be anywhere outside.

"What do we do?"

"We're leaving." Nakota reached under his jacket and pulled out something metal. Clark didn't need to be told what it was. He followed the man out of the room and down the stairs. As they walked, Nakota turned off all the lights, leaving them in darkness. He watched the windows closely. A dark shadow moved past one in the living room and his hands went up instantly, the gun trained on the curtains. "Behind me."

Clark stepped to the side and tried to control his breathing. He glanced down at an end table and grabbed one of the paperweights. Having something in his hands helped him stay focused. They stood still for what felt like eternity until Nakota jerked his head to the left. Clark headed down the hallway and pushed through the doors of the library.

"Go out the back, through the laundry room," the man whispered. He watched as Clark moved through the shelves of books and opened the door to the laundry room. The room faced the west, where the road was. "When you go, run."

"Okay." Clark took a deep breath and flung the door open, taking off as fast as he could. He dropped the paperweight to hop over the fence. His slacks got caught but he used his force to tear through them, scratching his thigh. The pain was unnoticeable. A moment later, Nakota bounded over the fence. He quickly unlocked his car parked yards away. When they were both inside, Nakota peeled away from the curb a little faster than necessary. Clark's eyes remained on the house behind them, wondering if the man had seen them get away. He took a much needed breath and relaxed in his seat, closing his eyes.

"What the hell happened while I was gone? You said you'd be alright with Leon."

"I put him in the spare room downstairs. I was playing this game -"

"That fucking military game?" Nakota asked, glaring at Clark.

"Yeah, the military one. I didn't want to scare him with screams and shouts. And in the chat room, my friend started posting pictures of me. Only, it wasn't him. He wasn't home. The person started kicking everyone from the room, banning them. There was at least a few hundred bans. And - and there was this video. It was right outside my room, right there by me." Shivers ran up Clark's spine as he recounted the situation.

"Jesus," Nakota said. He shook his head. "I knew you should have come with me. You shouldn't have been there alone. I fucked up."

"No, you didn't. I shouldn't have kicked Leon out."

"It doesn't matter what you did, I didn't do my job right. You almost..."

"I won't tell them you were gone." Clark and Nakota shared a look. "I won't tell them you were gone. You were downstairs somewhere else, and you were right by my side when I realized what was going on. The tapes are already frozen, they won't see you walking through the door."

"No -"

"Yes, it never happened. We had Chinese delivered, you were there the whole time." Nakota kept his eyes on the road, refraining from blinking. His jaw was set. Clark cleared his throat and looked out the window. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. Call your mother on my phone, let her know something happened. Let her know we need to do something different. This is the second time he's almost got to you. Something has to change." Clark followed his instructions and dialed Stacy's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom. Something happened."

"Yes, I was recording live. Thousands of people knew I was online. I've told you this three times already." It was the same officer who'd asked him about the gun. He was really starting to dislike the woman. Officer Hill looked at him crossly.

"You know that it wasn't smart to be online with this man after you right?"

"Do you also tell robbery victims that they shouldn't have kept so much expensive shit in their house? I was almost killed, maybe worry about catching a murderer and not scolding me for trying to have fun and not worry about dying?" Clark clenched his teeth and stared the woman down. To calm the situation down, Stacy intervened. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"What's the progress on finding this man? This is the second time he's been attacked. This man hacked into our computer. He was only a few feet away from my son, for the second time in one week. Can any of you please tell me you're closer to finding this bastard?" Stacy took a wavering breath and bit her cheek. She had to keep it collected. She knew that these men were only doing their job, but it infuriated her that even with a bodyguard, her son was unsafe.

"Ma'am, we're trying our hardest. But this person left no DNA. There are no finger prints, no hair follicles, no real evidence as to who this person could be. We're looking, but from what we have so far, it's -"

"It's anyone's guess. Fantastic."

"I wish I could have shot him," Clark muttered. Nakota glanced at him and shook his head.

"We'll let you know if we discover something," Officer Hill said. She looked between the both of them and began walking away.

"Never heard that one before," Clark huffed. He turned and headed up to his room, slamming the door shut. After a moment, he opened the door a crack and sat at his bed. Just looking at his window sent chills down his spine. A killer had been only a few feet away from him. He'd been watching him for God knows how long. Clark was almost as angry as he was scared. Not only from the woman insinuating that he'd brought this upon himself, but also that he was made to feel unsafe in his own home. He wasn't a bad person. He didn't deserve to feel like a sitting duck just waiting for someone to creep into his home and fill his stomach with knife wounds.

"Honey," Stacy said softly. She entered his room and took a seat on the bed next to him. "I called your father. He said you two will talk in the morning, but for now, he wanted me to tell you that this video thing... It's gotta end. At least until we catch this man."

"Mom," he started. She held up a hand and he bit his tongue.

"Please don't argue with me. You have to understand, you being live on the internet... it's dangerous. This person is out there, and he wants to harm you. I know you're upset, but I know that you'll come around and understand. We'll talk later, okay?" Clark didn't say a word. He kept his eyes on the ground, trying his hardest not to get upset. For as emotionally strong as he considered himself, he had a nasty habit of crying when he was frustrated or angry. Lucky for him, he was both. Stacy sighed and walked to his bedroom door.

"If you want, you can sleep in my room again tonight." She waited for an answer that wouldn't come. "Okay. Good night." Clark remained silent for the rest of the night.

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Twitter: @JackHarbon

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