Three days before Valentine's Day, Zara started on a quest for the perfect gift for her boyfriend. The town mall, once familiar, now felt confusing as she wandered through its corridors. She entered a store filled with toys and board games. She had gifted her boyfriend clothes and shoes, but today she sought to surprise him with something he wouldn't expect. The alleys looked familiar and memories of an old flame seeped into her mind—memories of visiting this very store with her ex-boyfriend, their laughter now haunting echoes in her ears.

Pushing the past aside, she ventured to the section housing miniature vintage cars. Her now-boyfriend, Hassan, had an insatiable passion for cars, particularly vintage ones. His dream had always been to own one or, at the very least, drive one. Zara hoped to kindle that dream with a collectable set of vintage cars.

After making her purchase, she retreated home and hid the gift in her closet. The following day, as Zara readied herself for work, she opened her closet to grab a dress. Her eyes were drawn to an unsettling sight. The gift she had hidden so carefully was missing, replaced by a basketball. She frantically searched her room, her anxiety intensifying with each passing moment. Desperation drove her to the living room, where her efforts were in vain. Returning to her closet for one last search, her heart pounded in her chest as she discovered the gift where she left it.

Doubt clouded her thoughts. A haze descended upon her, making her feel disoriented and vulnerable. She collapsed onto her bed, unable to make sense of the eerie events unfolding around her.

In her haste to leave for work, she selected her attire with trembling hands. But when she began looking for the Daniel Wellington watch, which was a gift from Hassan, she couldn't find it where she had left it. She scoured her vanity, her drawers, and her room, but it had disappeared without a trace. In one of those drawers, she found an old coach watch, tarnished and ominous. Time itself seemed to be slipping through her fingers.

During the day, as she attended meetings and tried to focus on her work, she felt a growing sense of dread. The office bathroom, a place of solace, became a chamber of horrors. Alone in a toilet stall, she was subjected to violent pounding on the door. Her voice quivered as she demanded to know who lurked outside, but the relentless pounding continued. With trepidation, she pushed the door open to confront her tormentor, only to find an empty, silent bathroom. However, the message written in blood on the mirror left her shaken to her core: "I'm coming for you, Bitch."

Her screams echoed through the office as she fled the bloodied message. The janitor, her only witness, had seen nothing. The mirrors, once tainted with blood, now reflected a deceptive cleanliness, masking the malevolent presence that lingered.

Her paranoia grew as her day spiralled into chaos. Racing to her car in the dimly lit basement, she felt an unseen presence trailing her every step. Panic surged within her, and the darkness seemed to swallow her whole as she locked herself inside her car. Her pursuer remained invisible, and the sinister whispers of her mind only intensified.

She then received a message on her phone: "See you soon, my honeybee." The trail of sinister emojis, like malevolent tulips, connected her to her deceased ex-boyfriend, James, the only one who had ever called her "honeybee." His death had been shrouded in mystery, and now his ghostly presence loomed over her.

Returning home, the night was a never-ending torment. Sleep eluded her, replaced by relentless thoughts of impending doom. The next morning, a call from Hassan seemed like a lifeline in the darkness.

"Baby, I'm boarding the flight now. I'll see you soon."

Desperation laced her words as she replied, "I can't wait to see you." Her eyes betrayed her fragile facade, but Hassan dismissed her fears as mere stress-induced hallucinations rooted in his unwavering atheism.

Yet that night, as they lay together in the cabin, an ominous presence shattered their fragile peace. A monstrous bird, its eyes gleaming with malice, tore at Zara's flesh. The pain was excruciating, and she awoke screaming. The vulture-like creature vanished into the night, but Zara's conviction was unwavering.

"I told you," she whispered in terror. "It's James."

Hassan tried to comfort her, but his skepticism waned.

As Valentine's Day dawned, they sought solace in a secluded cabin, away from the world. Zara had planned this romantic escape from their usual lives, where they never got even an entire evening together, with her sharing the apartment with her roommate and him still living with his mother.

The cabin was prepared with roses and candles. Desire burned between them as they kissed. She teased Hassan, luring him into a false sense of desire. The babydoll dress, puffy pink handcuffs, and her seductive demeanor masked her true intentions.

In moments, Hassan found himself bound to the four poster beds stripped to his underwear. In the dimly lit cabin, the flickering candlelight cast a warm and romantic glow over Hassan and Zara. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and their bodies entwined with burning desire. Zara, her babydoll dress revealing her seductive allure, moved with sensual grace, teasing Hassan with her every movement. The world outside the cabin seemed to fade away, leaving only the two lovers locked in an intense and passionate moment.

But then, as their passion reached its peak, Zara suddenly froze, her eyes turning stone cold. An unsettling silence enveloped the room, and the warmth of the moment turned cold. It was as if an invisible presence had descended upon them.

Hassan, his heart pounding with confusion and concern, tried to shake Zara from her trance. "Zara, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

With a sudden, unsettling change in her voice, Zara spoke in a tone that was not her own. Something had taken control of her and a cruel laugh escaped her body.

Hassan's eyes widened in terror as he realized that something malevolent had seized Zara's body. He strained against the tight handcuffs, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Don't even try. You're not leaving this cabin alive." Zara's voice, now twisted and malevolent, sent shivers down Hassan's spine.

"What's happening here, Zara? Is this some sick prank? Please tell me it's a joke," Hassan pleaded, his voice trembling.

"Fool!" the malevolent voice roared, a malicious grin in its tone. "I was once a fool, just like you. I believed in her and trusted her, and it cost me my life. And now, it will cost you yours."

Hassan's fear deepened, and he questioned, "What are you talking about?"

"This innocent façade she presents to you is just a ruse. You know nothing about her," the malevolent voice taunted.

"I don't care. Stop this madness, you monster!"

"Monster, you say? HAHAHA. Perhaps I am, but I've only possessed the body of a depraved nymphomaniac who derives pleasure from causing pain."

"I can't believe any of this."

"A Muslim-born atheist lives in a foreign country with his ailing mother. You're not here out of love, but because she chose you meticulously, just like all the others before you."

Hassan tried to comprehend the malevolent revelation, but before he could respond, a spine-chilling scream emanated from Zara's body. Her voice, more intense and filled with anguish, cut through the air.

In that moment, Hassan saw Zara suffering, trapped within her own body. The malevolent entity that had taken control was here for a purpose, and it wasn't a coincidence. Zara had carefully orchestrated the secluded getaway, far from the city, where no one could hear their cries. And so did this ghost now.

As Hassan contemplated their harrowing situation, he knew it was a matter of life and death. Two souls hung in the balance, and their futures were entwined in an unholy nightmare.

Desperation and dread threatened to engulf Hassan, and he fought with all his strength to free himself from the handcuffs. With one forceful exertion, he broke the restraints, injuring his thumb in the process. He hastily moved away from Zara, who continued to suffer, her torment palpable.

Hassan's inner turmoil grew, torn between saving the woman he loved and the horrifying reality he had uncovered. He was a man of science and reason, yet he faced a malevolent force beyond his understanding.

Should he attempt to save Zara from the torment that had consumed her, even if it meant putting his own life at risk? Or should he flee the cabin, jeopardizing his own principles and beliefs?

As he hesitated, torn between love and fear, the cabin's walls seemed to whisper ancient secrets, and the darkness itself seemed to mock his indecision. With trembling hands, he considered the consequences of his choice

Would his actions lead to salvation, or was he spiralling into a sinister trap of his own making?

The room was filled with uncertainty, and the night held the promise of either salvation or damnation. The malevolent spirit's chilling laughter echoed in the air, leaving Hassan with questions that begged to be answered. Would he find the strength to confront the force that had taken Zara, or was he walking into the clutches of an evil beyond his wildest nightmares?

"Come to me", the haunting voice hissed, a macabre chorus in the darkness.

In the throes of confusion, Hassan's mind was a labyrinth of despair. He staggered into the dimly lit kitchen, his trembling hands grasping a cold, glinting knife. Zara ran frantically at him. In a moment of madness, Hassan lost control and thrust the knife into her abdomen and blood spilt over him. The knife fell from his trembling hand, clattering on the floor, its blade now tainted by the darkness of his actions.

Hassan rushed to hold her, but there was no salvation in his touch. Zara's breaths were shallow, her life slipping away with every agonizing moment. He sat helplessly beside her, a prisoner of his own actions, tears streaming down his face. Her eyes, once filled with life, now dimmed slowly, like fading stars.

Amid the oppressive silence, a distant cell phone rang, jarring Hassan from his torment. It belonged to Zara, and it rang from inside her bag. He reached the bag and opened it to reveal a carefully wrapped vintage car set, the very gift she had chosen for him.

Confusion and guilt engulfed Hassan as he stared at the gift, its presence casting a sinister shadow on the room. If Zara was indeed as dangerous as the spirit had claimed, why had she gone through the trouble of selecting such a thoughtful gift? Was it all part of her plan—an elaborate ruse to deceive him? The questions whirled in his mind, and he found no respite from the torment that had gripped him.

With guilt hanging heavy in the air, Hassan made a decision. She carried her back to the bed and using the blood-stained knife, he cut his vein open, accepting his own fate alongside Zara's. It was not justice, but a tragic and harrowing end.

As the room grew dim, two lives were extinguished, and the sinister questions that had plagued Hassan remained unanswered. Was it truly the spirit of James? Were its claims real, or was this a nefarious scheme designed to claim the lives of those ensnared in its grasp? The truth remained veiled in darkness forever.

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Written for spooky prompt 1 by TheHappyWriters

Word count : 1885