The Descent - Chapter 1 - Second Circle
Silco x female reader dark slow burn modern au. Stalker Silco.
A strange man moves into the apartment across from yours, he likes to watch and you start to like him watching. What could go wrong?
Warnings: stalking, violence, trauma, home invasion, sexual assault, threats, fear, panic, robbery, weapons, gun, romanticised toxic behaviour, toxic relationships, power dynamics, mental health probably, sex mention, swearing, bad editing (notsorry), evil silco, dark Silco, cold Silco. He’s not gentle and sweet ya feel? No jinx in this storyline bc I don’t know how to share. 🤷♀️
Chapter one
Second Circle
You peek out through the cheap venetian blinds to see him, leaning on his balcony railing, in the building directly opposite yours. Smoking cigarettes and watching.
He was always watching your apartment. You'd noticed it a few weeks after he had moved in. He made no effort to hide his blatant voyeurism. It seemed you had captured his attention somehow and that unsettled you. Living in the city for as long as you had meant you were no stranger to such things but something about his boldness made you especially uneasy. Some instinct in your gut warning you that this creep was not a typical window licking, peeping tom.
Yet, as the months pass you start to ignore that instinct. He makes no move other than to passively watch, so you try to keep your curtains closed and ignore him as best you can.
--
Sometimes your thoughts would turn to the bizarreness of the situation. This stranger who watched you. You had recently, and playfully started to consider that it was quite flattering actually. Saying to yourself that this was an admission of your value that anybody should pay that much interest in you.
Joking about it made you feel more in control, it took away the sting of fear and unsureness.
"My good lookin guy, very good at looking." you would mutter when you noticed him.
Despite all the jokes, In a strange way, it did make you feel special.
--
One night you were too drunk to notice that your windows and curtains were wide open as you rolled your hips on top of the nameless man that you'd procured from a nearby dive bar to satisfy your needs for the night.
You opened your eyes as you got close, relishing the rising anticipation of your hard earned, imminent orgasm. Bliss rises up your spine as you look out at the city lights panting and moaning shamelessly in a drunken haze.
Then you notice him, watching intently from his balcony through the large glass window of your modern apartment.
His eyes meet yours and you climax hard. Your orgasm ripping across your being with a quaking intensity you hadn't experienced for a long, long time.
--
After that, you dress and undress each morning and each evening, letting him see, going out of your way even to make sure he had a good view.
You start buying lingerie and sexy pyjamas to wear around the house.
If anyone ever asked you, you could never explain why you encouraged this. Other than admitting that you simply enjoyed the attention. There was something about being watched that seemed so harmless, a safe way to tease and taunt the man. His desire seemed to give you a strange confidence. You enjoyed ignoring him, pretending that you never even noticed he was there. That was part of the game for you.
He stood dutifully on his balcony for the show each morning, knowing your routine, chaining cigarettes, eyes like a wolf. Sometimes he missed the afternoon showing, you were always secretly disappointed.
--
You’re out of your usual routine one morning, running late. You walk out onto the street just as he is walking out of his apartment at the same time. You both freeze, like two mirrors across the road from each other. His considering gaze catches your own for a long moment before you panic, breaking the spell as you turn away down the street.
He doesn't follow.
--
In bed.
Your eyes snap open.
CCCCCRRUNCHHH
You're up.
You run towards the sound.
Splintering wood.
Your front door - It's being kicked in.
You scream but it's cut short as a massive man, unfamiliar, bursts inside, gun trained on you. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm as you look down the barrel of the weapon, frozen in terror, blubbering appeasingly.
Everything becomes a blur, suddenly, finding yourself giving any answers asked of you.
Briefly, over the muscular shoulder of the intruder you see your watcher across the way, holding a phone to his ear. Is he seeing all this? You hope he's calling the police. Who knew your sick games with this pervert would pay off. You would be more amazed if you weren't so absolutely afraid for your life.
The large invader riffles through your valuables. He drags you roughly by your upper arm like a rag doll from room to room, taking your laptop, jewellery and your purse.
He pushes you away demanding you stand against the back wall while he does a final sweep, roughly tearing cabinets open and swiping through your cupboards. You pray he will just leave but when he finishes his quick search instead of the door he wheels towards you. Eyes gleaming as if he just noticed that you are in fact worthy of his consideration.
Something in his eyes makes you step back into the picture frame behind you as he approaches.
He grabs a fistful of your hair, pinning you against the wall with his body. Running the tip of the cold metal gun slowly from your temple, down your neck, to rest just in between your cleavage.
"If I had more time I'd steal a lot more from you sweetness." The threat trailing his warm breath over your face.
With a gut wrenching start you realise you can feel his hard cock pressed against you through his pants.
He grabs your face with one hand, thick fingers holding your jaw as he forces your eyes up to his. "Too bad." He says as if you are missing out on a special treat. He pulls away from you smirking and backs out of the room, gun still trained on you.
"Next time" he says blowing a kiss before striding out the front door.
—
After the burglar leaves you wait, frozen in place for a short while, shaken and gently sobbing before running out into the street. You look left and right and who should be leaning against the bricks on the sidewalk out the front but your ever vigilant watcher.
You run across the road towards him and he looks shocked momentarily, taking a step back away from your rapid frantic approach before you shamelessly wrap your arms around him hugging him and crying. Needing support from someone, anyone.
Hadn't he always been there?
Slowly, unsurely he wraps his arms around you, reciprocating.
"Its okay" he says, his voice is pleasant. A low vibrating rumble against you.
"I called the Police, I'll wait with you."
He keeps one arm wrapped around you, rubbing patterns along your back soothingly as he receives a call with the other. It sounds like he's talking to police, here he was just handling this for you. Taking care of it as if it were his own problem.
When the police arrive you are still crying gently in his arms.
"Is this your... girlfriend Sir?"
"Yes." He says not skipping a beat. Okay that was strange, maybe he’s just trying to make it seem … not as strange as it actually is?
When he gives a statement he gives his name as Silco. You realise then, you are just now learning his name, he already seems to know yours which gives you pause, you had never spoken to him. But you weren't really in any position to worry about that having already thrown yourself at the man.
—
Police pour into your home, taking fingerprints and photographs. Its not long before one of the forensic team approaches you on the street and explains it might be a while before you could return home, definitely not till tomorrow morning at the earliest.
"Oh, thank you." You say, still quite shocked.
At this news you finally unwrap yourself from the stranger now known as Silco. Starring blankly out in the street you stifle a yawn feeling exhausted now that all of the adrenalin had worn off.
Embarrassment starts to sneak in, should you apologise to him? You wonder, turning your eyes up to his.
He looks down at you thoughtfully, as if you are a problem he needs to solve.
"Would you like to come in for a warm drink while you wait?" He asks gesturing towards his apartment across the road. His manner is cold and calculating but his actions had been nothing but generous and kind. It was a confounding combination.
You look up towards his apartment, probably not the best idea but you agree with a nod.
The thrill of the situation and the shock of the home invasion made everything seem less insane and more reasonable.
"I'd like that... thank you." You admit gratefully.
--
In his nice, high end apartment he stands across from you behind the kitchen island where you sit perched on a high stool.
He meticulously prepares you a warm drink before making some coffee for himself.
"It's a shame that we're finally meeting under such unsavoury circumstances." He says gently, pouring steaming liquid into a glass coffee mug.
You smile gently pushing a marshmallow around in your hot chocolate.
"As opposed to our usual unsavoury circumstances?" You laugh gently before sighing and resting your cheek against your hand.
"I like our thing." You confess keeping your eyes low.
"Me too." He replies softly before bringing the cup to his lips.
It felt good, to hear him say that.
Still, you knew how dangerous this was. Despite how comfortable you felt right now, there was something not right about this man, an air of malevolence (but that was thrilling too).
“Do you… “ you falter, unsure if you should continue but when you raise your eyes up to his one eyebrow quirks up, as if waiting patiently.
You clear your throat trying to rally your courage.
“Do you… watch other people?” You ask, almost instantly regretting it.
He takes another sip of his coffee, calm, unhurried.
His eyes never leave you. You struggle against the urge to squirm in the silence.
His focus on you was always so intense. Of course you enjoyed it, but being in a room together now, up close. It was something else, hot, fierce, like standing too close to the fire.
“I think that you want me to say no.” He murmers, eyes gleaming as he steps back away from you. Slowly, deliberately making his way around the long marble kitchen island that separates you both.
“I think, you enjoy my attention.” He continues, his lazy gait, unhurried on the tiled floor.
“I think you crave it.” his shoe clicks on the tiles, closer now.
He places a hand next to your hot cocoa, palm flat on the counter and leans in.
His other hand stays at his side, controlled.
“I think you enjoy being… just, out of reach.” He says closing in on you.
He leans in slowly, inch by inch, his breath brushes your cheek. Your heartbeat stutters. His lips near your ear.
“Just you.”
You stop breathing, the words settle on your skin, like ash. Hot, final, branded.
You don't move, his breath is still warm on your cheek.
Then he turns away, without a word. He walks towards the coat rack shrugging on a dark winter coat, it looks custom, fitted, clean.
You watch in silence as he walks back over towards you and grabs some of his personal items from a bowl on the counter.
He slides a key over the marble towards you with a shhhk.
“This is a spare key, you may come and go as you please.”
You stare at it.
“Are you… leaving?” the question feels louder than expected.
He doesn't answer at first, checking his phone.
”I have work.” he says simply.
“The spare room at the end of the hall is made up as a guest room. You’re welcome to stay while I'm out”
You nod slowly, processing this before asking.
“What … time do you usually come home?”
He pauses.
“Five ... Maybe six”
“AM?” You ask.
His eyes flick up.
“Yes"
That's all, Just one syllable. Heavy as stone.
He turns towards the door.
“Wait!” You call after him, stepping forward and reaching out, catching his coat sleeve.
“Thank you.” You say, meaning it, trying to show it with your eyes.
“It is nothing.” He says looking away and gently, but firmly pulling his arm away from you.
You watch his back disappear through the door. It closes slowly with a click.
Silence.
—
The spare room is immaculate, almost clinical, clean, comfortable and impersonal. Like a hotel room.
You go to the ensuite bathroom and splash water on your face, wincing when you see the large dark bruise blooming on your arm where you'd been dragged from room to room like a ragdoll. Helpless.
You quickly turn away from the mirror, and lay on top of the bed instead. You stare at the ceiling, mind racing, a deep sigh deflates you.
After about fifteen minutes, tossing and turning, you give in.
Of course you need to look in his room. Just in case there is some kind of creepy shrine dedicated to you, surrounded by candles or something.
You push the large door open, walking in to see black silk sheets on a large bed. You scrunch your nose at how typical it was of a wealthy strange man. His large walk in robe is filled only with fine clothing, all in shades of black and red. No shrine. You pick a discarded business shirt up off the edge of a laundry hamper and for some reason, you bring it to your face and inhale.
It smelled like cigarettes and aftershave and a subtle, spicy body odour. You knew this was weird of you but you were staying in your stalkers house after someone just threatened your life so you also felt like if there was a time you deserved a pass, it was now.
Through the long hallway of his walk in robe was the entrance to his bathroom, refined, spacious, stylish.
You’re pretty impressed by this point, and smile as you make your merry way back through to his bedroom. Now fully committed to disrespectful hedonism, you climb on to his bed and lay down with your head on the pillows. Sprawled out on top of the silk sheets you’re annoyed to admit they feel really nice.
Then you accidentally take a moment to let yourself think about everything that had happened in the last few hours. How blindsided you had felt, how helpless.
This time the tears well up in your eyes and you start to cry uncontrollably. The sadness and fear of what you had experienced pour out of you in shuddering, loud, uncontrollable weeping. You cry for a long long time, curled up on the black silk sheets, trembling as you weep. Staining them with your salted tears and smothering yourself in the scent of the strange man that watched you undress from across the road.
—
Silco comes home early, having delegated out as much work as feasible. It had been a long night, despite finally having held the woman of his desires in his arms for the first time. He sighs as he shrugs his slender shoulders out of his fitted coat, hanging it up on the rack before striding over to empty his pockets into the bowl on the kitchen counter. Noticing the half empty hot chocolate mug you had left in place, he pauses thoughtfully.
Turning his gaze up towards the hall where the spare room was.
He hesitates for a second before quietly and slowly padding up the hallway, he places a hand carefully on the doorknob and turns it, opening the door just enough to see...
Ah. It’s empty, she’s gone.
Of course, it was sensible and probably even polite for her to be gone.
Silco runs his fingers up through his hair and makes his way back out into the kitchen, reaching for his cigarette case and lighter, he strolls out through one of the large glass sliding doors onto the balcony, leaning on the railing and lighting his cigarette.
He looks out towards your apartment. The curtains are wide open as usual, the place was a mess but the police had all left at least. Silco glanced at the bed, empty. The couch, also empty.
Hmmmm, he didn’t like not knowing where you were. He also didn’t like not knowing things about you. He would resolve that, if you had family members or friends nearby that you had gone to stay with, he wanted to know.
He stubbs out the cigarette and strolls back inside, swinging the door to his bedroom open he starts unbuttoning his shirt, getting ready for bed.
A small noise makes him freeze, whipping his head to finally notice you, curled up delicately in the centre of his bed.
His breath catches for a moment at the sight and he wonders at it.
How your small soft form is so vulnerable, the gentle rise and fall of your breaths.
Hand curled towards your chest.
The slight parting of your lips, so peaceful.
So close.
Then your eyes flick open.
—
Your eyes snap open to see Silco, standing across from you, unbuttoning his shirt. You panic, realising that you’d slept in his bed, and now he was undressing as he approached you?
Oh no no no he was a creep, you knew it and you shouldn’t be surprised by it but this was too much. This was crossing the line, well further over the line. A new line?
You sprang up backing out of the bed and standing with your hands raised.
“I don’t want to sleep with you!” You blurt out defensively.
“Why are you in my bed?” He asks calmly, lowering his hands, leaving the top few buttons of his shirt open.
You falter.
“I offered you the spare room, at the end of the hall.” He says sternly pointing in that direction.
“I… I” You have no defence for this. Maybe you are the creep here?
He waits for a moment tilting his head.
“You what?” He asks. “Was there a pea under the mattress?” Taunting you now.
Your mouth snaps shut with your frown and you storm past him, making your way out of the bedroom door. In times like these, the best defence was a strong offence.
He turns cooly, watching you as you pass.
“Glad I could help.” He quips, following you at a measured distance.
His words still you briefly.
You turn to him, expression angry.
“Thank you for your help.” you bark awkwardly.
He gives a slight incline of the head. No more than that.
Then you storm out the door doing your best not to slam it like a child.
Definitely not your best work.
--
After the door shuts, Silco exhales through his nose in amusement.
"Her pride has teeth" he thinks, "but no aim."
Retreating into his room, he lays down, fully clothed on his bed, inhaling deeply.
It smells like her.
End.
——
Thanks for reading 🔪📖🖤
I have been really enjoying writing this so I hope you dig it!
Also- there’s A LOT more of it already written, so if you want more, let me know and I’ll try and make time to edit it sooner.
<3 Iron
—
>>>Continue on to Chapter two
Bonus - Chapter 2 teaser Silco POV short