I snatched the phone from her immediately. "I'm sorry, it slipped. I... I was about to go out to get groceries to prepare for breakfast," I stammered, turning and storming out the door before she could see the tears welling in my eyes.
My mind was a chaotic mess, consumed by the day I lost my brother. He had been brutally murdered by goons on the very day of his college graduation. The guilt of it ate at me; I hadn't even had the time to properly mourn him this month, too busy scrambling to gather money for my own college fees.
I caught my reflection in a parked car window and flinched. I looked deranged. My hair was a bird's nest, and there was a streak of dried saliva on my cheek. I looked exactly like what I feared I was becoming, I looked crazy.
I went to the doctor with the hope that he would tell me this was all stress. That I wasn't losing my mind. I poured it all out to him, explaining the visions, the paranoia, holding nothing back.
He just sighed, clicking his pen. "Ninety percent of people who have vivid encounters like yours are just going through a mental episode,"
His words shattered me. But before I could respond, nurses and staff were screaming, scrambling, running helter-skelter in a blind panic.
I turned toward the reception, and my blood ran cold.
It was him. The man with the matching birthmark.
I had seen him two days in a row now. Why did I keep seeing this man?
The way the medical staff looked at him... they weren't just nervous; they were terrified.
The atmosphere flipped instantly. The man grabbed the doctor by his collar and lifted him off the ground with one hand. I was shocked by his terrifying, supernatural strength.
"Where is the blood you promised?" the mysterious man asked, his voice a low, husky growl that vibrated in my chest.
"I'm sorry... I... I couldn't meet the amount you demanded," the doctor stammered, his legs dangling in the air.
"I told you, Dr. Louis. If you want you and your staff to be safe, meet my demands. I'm trying to be the good guy here. But your trial is over."
In the blink of an eye, the man buried his face in the doctor's neck. There was a sickening crunch, followed by a wet tearing sound. Right in front of me. Within seconds, the doctor was dead.
The man dropped the body onto the table like a sack of potatoes and wiped fresh blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he turned in my direction.
He stared right into my soul.
I didn't wait to see what happened next. Adrenaline hijacked my body. I grabbed my bag and ran out of the hospital, not daring to look back.
The street was a blur. It was impossible to find a taxi, so I ran toward the bus line, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Sandra," a voice called from behind.
My heart skipped a beat, feeling as though my soul was trying to eject from my body. I turned around but saw nothing. Just pedestrians walking past, oblivious to the monster in the hospital.
I ducked into a nearby shop, not because I was hungry, but because I needed to be around people. I grabbed random groceries, my hands shaking uncontrollably, checking over my shoulder every three seconds.
By the time I rushed home, I pretended to be calm. Anna was sitting at the kitchen table. I didn't have the courage to tell her I'd just witnessed a murder.
"Hiya, you're back," she said. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble; you should have actually sent me to get that stuff."
"It's no trouble," I lied, setting the bags down with trembling hands. "I just fancied having breakfast together."
Anna's face lit up. "That's sweet of you."
After eating that much at midnight, she still wanted more food? Even with odd things happening, at least I had someone around. Though, I was sure there were cameras hidden in the vents.
"So, what are you doing later?" Anna asked.
"Honestly, haven't planned that far. Might just relax with a book."
"That sounds like a good idea. Mind if I join you?"
"Of course not," I replied.
I prayed my mouth wouldn't betray me and scream about the blood-drinking man. I turned to look at Anna, who was humming as she unpacked the groceries. I frowned a little as I remembered she wouldn't stay with me forever. I didn't want to bring her into danger. Whoever was watching me was taking note of her as well, which sucked.
"You okay, Sandra? You look pale. Did I say something..."
"No, Anna. Just remembered something that upsets me."
"You wanna—"
"No, I don't want to talk about it." I forced a smile, hoping I didn't sound cruel.
"It's okay, I understand." She nodded.
"Anna, my parents sent me out two years ago. I was sixteen at that time. So yeah, I haven't seen them in two years," I uttered, just to move the conversation to a different topic.
"Oh my, I am so sorry to hear that."
"Don't be, I am good. I'm adopted anyway, so they owe me nothing."
"Sandra, you're a strong lady, I respect you. In my case, I ran away overnight. I'm currently not going to school, but you do part-time work and pay tuition fees all by yourself. You're insanely phenomenal," she said, patting my shoulder. For once, I felt proud.
She lowered her voice. "I'm just stuck here. I'm seventeen, no longer sixteen. I don't need people who are trying to sell me off to a stranger for the sake of their selfish interests."
I quickly hugged her tightly. "I can't believe you had the courage to do that. It's really inspiring. But aren't you scared they might still find you? I'm scared my parents might find me as well. I ditched my surname and I'm using my first name only. When people ask, I tell them I'm an orphan. You ran away from a forced marriage. That takes guts."
"Since both of us have similar pasts, how about we live together?" Anna whispered.
"Yes, I really want you to live here with me, but..." I remembered I was currently not on good terms with some people and was sure that she might get hurt if she kept getting close to me.
"Is it because you are scared of the gunshots that I never witnessed?" Anna teased.
"Well, that might be part of the reason," I smiled.
"I need to speak with Sandra." A voice of a man and a knock on the door interrupted our conversation.
"Oh, you didn't tell me you had a lover?" Anna teased as she went to open the door.
"Don't! Do not open that door!" I screamed, lunging forward.
She paused and looked at me like I was crazy. "What is wrong with you?"
Before I could stop her, she turned the handle and pulled it open. My heart stopped.
But the doorway was empty. There was no one standing there.
"Turns out the person was too shy to wait," Anna smiled. "So, tell me why you don't want me to meet your boyfriend."
"I have no boyfriend," I insisted. "I only wanted you to use the peephole to confirm who it was before opening the door. You know how things work around here."
Anna giggled. "Come on, stop being a pain in the ass and tell me his name already. You should..."
She paused as the sound of hissing steam dragged her attention back to the stove. The cooking pot was boiling over.
While she attended to the pot, I scanned the hallway carefully. My eyes landed on a note lying on the floor. It read:
Meet me outside the gate. I believe you.
I hesitated, my heart racing, before picking it up. I went back inside and headed straight for the kitchen, casually sneaking a knife into my sleeve without Anna noticing.
"Didn't he call you before coming?" Anna asked.
"He left a note."
"Can I at least see it?"
"It's in the bin. He said we should meet him in front of the gate," I lied. She paused for a second, looking at me, before finally nodding.
When I got outside the gate, no one was there. I slowly pulled out the knife. My hands were trembling; I didn't even know how to hurt a fly, let alone defend myself.
Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind me.
"Ah!" I screamed, spinning around and pointing the knife at the stranger.
"Wait, listen! I'm not going to harm you, okay?" he said quickly, raising his hands in surrender. "Calm down and lower the knife."
He wore a grey suit with a white shirt and no tie. His shoes were patent leather, and a pair of dark sunglasses concealed his eyes. His appearance was rather out of keeping with modern fashion.
"Excuse me, do you live around here?" I asked.
"Sandra," he called in a husky voice.
The voice was so familiar, yet I could not quite place where I had heard it before.
"You know my name? Are you from Zen College?" I asked, trying to catch his eyes, but the sunglasses were too thick to see his eyes.
"It's been ages, Niamon," he said, and I swear my soul nearly legged it out of my body. My heart skipped a beat and I started burning up.
"Ni... Nia... Niamon?" I stammered, with frequent pauses as I struggled to find the right words.
"Niamon? That's the weirdest name I have ever heard. I am sorry, I am not Niamon," I said as I turned to go back to the gate.
"I am sorry for bothering you," he said, walking after me.
As I hastened my steps, he kept pace with me.
"Wait... Sandra, please listen," he called out, then he suddenly grasped my arm. I spun around, trying to shake him off, but his grip tightened.
"Let me go!" I yelled, and he released my hand immediately.
"I mean no harm, Niamon, you have to listen to me. Running away won't help."
"Why do you keep calling me that when you know my name? And how do you know my name is Sandra?"
"It's a long story, Niamon. One I can't risk telling you here." He scanned the garden, his eyes darting toward the shadows. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Meet me at the old oak tree in the town square. Sunset. Come alone."
"Why should I trust you?" I hissed, backing away.
"Because the gunshots were real. You aren't crazy." He lowered his sunglasses, looking me dead in the eye. "Take my advice by getting a new apartment."