The porch was lit by a flickering light, just bright enough to make out the faces of the party guests. Music pounded inside, but out here, everything felt suspended, as if the world were holding its breath.
I froze, unable to look away from that familiar face. The fear that had gripped me slowly faded, replaced by a dull irritation. My voice tightened as I muttered:
"Are you sick or something, Derrick?"
He chuckled softly, a smug smile curling on his lips.
"Sick? No… but you do look nervous. And trust me—surprisingly, it suits you."
"I'm not in the mood for your crap. Move."
He took a step forward, his shadow falling over me. His eyes gleamed with something unsettling.
"You think you can talk to me like that? Look at you… your eyes dart, but your body trembles. You think I don't notice?"
I stiffened and forced myself to meet his gaze.
"I'm not trembling."
A predatory grin spread across his face.
"Oh, you are. And it's beautiful. Fear… it's the truest emotion there is. And you, Avery—you can't hide it."
His breath, heavy with alcohol, hit my face as he leaned in.
"You don't get it… you don't decide when this ends."
His hand clamped down on my arm, rough, dragging me toward him. A shiver of disgust tore through me.
"Let go!"
"Keep going… it only makes this more fun."
Anger flared. I shoved him hard.
"You're insane!"
He stumbled but didn't lose that smile. His low laugh echoed like a warning.
"You'll see… someday, you'll thank me."
I didn't wait—I turned on my heel, heart racing. But as if the night had it out for me, a cup slammed into me, spilling ice-cold liquid across my chest. The sugary drink soaked into the fabric, sticking to my skin.
"Seriously… just what I needed," I hissed through clenched teeth.
The person apologized, face flushing, handing me a napkin. I shook my head.
"It's… fine… just… damn it…"
"Avery, are you okay?" Claire appeared, worry etched on her face.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered, forcing a weak smile.
"Do you want help?"
"No. I'll handle it."
I headed upstairs, determined to clean myself up on my own. And, because luck clearly wasn't on my side, I ran into Serena in the hallway leading to the bathroom.
Her eyes sparkled with malicious delight, her smile venomous.
"Well, well… look who's here."
Here we go again, I thought.
"Oh my God, what happened?" she asked, fake concern dripping from her voice. "But you know what? Maybe it's a good thing… it adds a little something to your naturally awful taste. Makes it almost… less ugly."
She brushed her fingers over my stained top, pretending to gag.
"You should thank whoever did this—they spared the world from having to suffer looking at that thing."
I inhaled deeply to keep from exploding.
"Are you done?"
"Yes. And you know what? I suddenly feel so much better," she sighed dramatically before walking away. "Oh, and scrub well… wouldn't want it to get ruined."
I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah…" I muttered, raising a fake invisible toast. "Perfect combo."
In the bathroom, no matter how much I scrubbed, the stain clung stubbornly, as if nothing could wash it away. The sticky sweetness made me nauseous. Exhausted, I splashed cool water on my face, breathing deeply to calm myself.
But when I lifted my head, my reflection seemed to waver. My features rippled, like seen through stirred water.
And right there, in the mirror… something was wrong. A distortion, a strange reflection—almost alive.
Then a scream—familiar, horrifyingly familiar—rang out. A shrill cry that tore through my mind, freezing me to the core.
The mirror shattered with a sharp crack, shards flying outward. I staggered back, arms raised to shield myself. A cold wind burst through the room, chilling my skin, and the shrill chorus of crickets suddenly filled the air. My eyelids lifted slowly, trying to make sense of what was happening… and a terrible truth hit me.
I was no longer in the bathroom.
Forest stretched around me, cold and damp, wrapped in a thick fog that bit at my skin. The icy air filled my lungs—heavy, almost metallic. My fingers trembled, my legs refused to move. And that gaze that had chased me all evening… I felt it again—heavy, insistent—lurking in the dark.
I stumbled back, heart hammering. My feet sank into damp moss—not tile. Every breath escaped in pale wisps.
A rustle to my right made me turn. Between the warped tree trunks, a silhouette was taking shape—blurred, yet terrifyingly real.
Another snap of branches—and a whisper grazed my ear:
"Run…"
And in that instant, the scream erupted again, closer—more agonizing. My heart felt like it would burst. I ran without thinking, breath ragged—but stumbled almost immediately over something hard.
I hit the ground, the cold and damp seeping into my skin. Reaching out to understand what had tripped me, my fingers brushed against something icy that made my skin crawl.
Fingers—or rather… a hand.
My eyes flew wide with terror when I saw the body. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the scream clawing its way out.
Moments ago, I was in a bathroom trying to scrub stains from my shirt—and now I was face-to-face with a lifeless body. A man lay there, motionless. His features were half hidden by the dried blood coating his temple. His empty eyes stared at the night sky. Was he a stranger? Someone I knew? Or had I lost my mind entirely? Had I really left the bathroom?
A familiar dread twisted in my chest.
Suddenly, a crack sounded behind me. I spun instinctively. A shapeless figure was emerging again from the darkness.
"Wh-who's there?" I whispered, my voice shaking.
One step. Then another. Closer.
I backed away, breath shattered, until I bumped into the corpse. Its cold fingers seemed to brush mine again.
I screamed—a raw, instinctive, ripping sound I couldn't swallow this time.
And with a blink—
The forest vanished. I was back on my knees in the bathroom, shattered mirror around me, heart pounding wildly. Water and the towel lay scattered across the tiles. Silence swallowed everything—thick, almost tangible.
Everything looked normal… but I knew what had happened was neither dream nor hallucination.
And one chilling thought kept ringing in my mind:
Something had happened.
And this wasn't the first time.
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