Christ pushed open the classroom door and walked inside, still chewing the last bite of her cookie as she slid into her seat. She dropped her bag on the desk and leaned back, staring blankly at the front door of the classroom.
Her eyes didn't blink.
She looked strangely focused, like she was waiting for someone specific to walk through that door.
And she was.
Henry.
The moment his name even crossed her mind her heartbeat messed up a little, speeding then slowing, like it didn't know how to behave. Henry wasn't just any boy—he was the most popular guy in school, captain of the football team, the type of boy everyone talked about, admired, or wanted to sit next to in the cafeteria.
He had that perfect messy hair, the stupidly charming smile, the easy confidence that made every hallway feel like it belonged to him. Teachers loved him, students adored him, and half the girls practically fought over who got to sit closer to him.
Christ, however—
She acted like she didn't care at all.
She always pretended she didn't even notice him.
Didn't look at him.
Didn't think about him.
But the truth?
She was madly in love, stupidly in love, secretly in love.
She only allowed herself to look at the door because no one was paying attention yet. And just as she narrowed her eyes—
He arrived.
Henry stepped into the classroom, sunlight behind him making him look like he entered in slow motion. Instantly, the room reacted. Chairs scraped, girls whispered, two girls literally ran up to him pretending they needed help with "notes," and one even giggled at something he didn't say.
He didn't rush.
Didn't push them away either.
He moved at his own pace — slow, relaxed, confident — greeting people casually as if he wasn't the most talked-about boy in school.
Christ didn't move an inch.
She kept her head down and pretended to be deeply interested in the scratches on her desk. Her face was blank, expression cold, body language bored — but her ears were listening to every step he took, every voice calling his name.
Her heart?
That traitor was beating way too fast.
Before she could mentally yell at herself, her best friend dropped into the seat next to her and sighed dramatically.
"What's so cool about him?" she complained loudly, glaring toward Henry. "I swear I still don't get it."
Christ didn't respond.
She knew why her best friend hated him — she had been disqualified from the football team because of Henry's complaint last year. Since then, she didn't like him even a little.
She crossed her arms.
"Seriously, Christ, you have such bad taste," she said, rolling her eyes.
Christ shook her head quickly, trying to look uninterested.
"I don't care about him," she lied smoothly.
Her best friend snorted. "Yeah, right."
While their little drama went on, something completely outside the classroom — far away, beyond the buildings, beyond the fences — was watching Christ.
Watching the room.
Watching Henry.
Watching the doorway.
A presence strong enough to feel the heartbeat of every person inside.
It didn't have eyes.
But it saw everything.
By the end of the last period, students left the school building in noisy groups. Christ walked with her friends for a while, pretending not to be tired, pretending not to feel anything weird.
But halfway home, she suddenly slowed down.
Her spine tingled.
She felt something—
something cold, something heavy—
watching her again.
A strange sensation ran up her back, like someone's gaze was crawling under her skin.
She turned slightly, but there was no one behind them. Only the empty road, quiet houses, and the fading sunset.
Her friends kept talking. "Did you finish the assignment? Did you see Henry's goal last game? Are you coming to practice tomorrow?"
Christ wasn't listening.
She could feel it again. A presence. Following her. Same as yesterday. Same as the morning.
She swallowed and forced herself to walk normally.
It's nothing.
Just imagination.
Just nerves.
At least… that's what she tried to tell herself.
Once her friends left one by one and the street became more empty, Christ picked up her pace. She walked faster. Her footsteps echoed on the pavement. She didn't run — she didn't want to look scared — but her mind screamed at her to get home quickly.
The sky had turned dark purple.
The wind was colder.
The silence was thicker.
Something was behind her.
She couldn't hear it.
She could only feel it.
Her breath shortened.
Her fingers curled tightly around her bag.
She reached her building and hurried inside. The moment the door shut behind her, she let out a long, shaky breath.
Home.
Finally safe.
She rested her head against the wall for a few seconds before forcing herself to climb the stairs to her apartment. The lights in the stairwell flickered, buzzing softly. It always freaked her out, but she brushed it off.
One step…
Two steps…
Three steps…
Her breathing calmed.
But then—
Something blocked her path.
Christ froze on the stairs.
Her eyes widened slowly as she lifted her head.
Standing on the staircase just a few steps above her was a massive shape. Too tall. Too wide. Too dark. Its body was twisted, its limbs long like broken shadows stretching into reality.
A giant monster.
Silent. Unmoving.
Just staring down at her.
Its eyes glowed faintly — like dying embers inside a skull made of smoke.
Christ felt her blood turn to ice.
For a moment, her voice wouldn't come out.
Her throat locked.
Her heartbeat thrashed painfully.
And then—
She screamed.
A scream louder than she had ever made in her life.
A scream that shook the stairwell and echoed through the entire building.
Because the thing in front of her wasn't human.
It wasn't an illusion.