My head hurt. Like, really hurt. The kind of pounding that made the bell in my skull ring louder than any alarm. I didn't drink that much last night... so why the hell did it feel like I'd swallowed fire and gotten trampled by a truck?

Something wasn't right.

Then came the groan.

A sickening thud echoed next, something or someone hitting the ground.

"Fuck!" Shasha's voice, raw and sharp, tore through the silence like a blade. Panic swept over me.

I sat up, everything around me momentarily forgotten. My vision was hazy, stomach twisting.

"Eli... help m..."

"What the hell?"

 I froze. 

Shasha's wide, terrified eyes locked with mine. That look, the kind that screamed don't look behind you, made my heart spike.

Her body moved with an unnatural speed for someone who had been wasted just hours ago. She lunged across the room and yanked the curtains shut.

"Shas, what is it?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she was shoving things into the trash fast, frantic, terrified. Her hands shook.

"For someone with a hangover, you're moving like the damn Flash."

"Go take a shower, now, Eli," she snapped, her voice tight. Angry. But not at me.

I wanted to press, to ask, what are you hiding? But the fear in her eyes... it wasn't worth it. Not right now.

I headed toward the bathroom, rolling my eyes but then I saw it.

In the mirror.

In the reflection of the full-length glass...

Black writing, smeared across my shirt in thick ink.

Words that froze every nerve in my body:

"I'M COMING FOR YOU."

A scream tore from my throat raw, hoarse, louder than I knew I was capable of.

I stumbled backwards, hitting the edge of the tub hard. My knees buckled. The room tilted. I dropped to the floor, trembling violently. My heart punched my chest like it was trying to escape, like it knew something I didn't.

Why?

Why is this happening to me?

Footsteps.

Then the door flew open, Shasha burst in, phone still clutched in her hand, her face pale.

"Eli! What happened? Are you okay?"

She rushed over, dropped beside me on the floor, her hands flying to my back, rubbing in fast circles.

I couldn't answer. My eyes stayed locked on the words across my chest, every letter screaming louder than my voice ever could.

Her eyes followed my gaze then widened.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Eli..."

"I-I didn't write this," I choked out, my voice barely a breath. "I swear to God, I didn't"

"I know." Her voice cracked. "I believe you."

I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. "No, you don't."

"Eli..."

"I saw him, Shasha."

She froze. "Who?"

I stared at her. Silent. Broken.

Then I whispered the name.

"Jayvin Black."

Her breath hitched.

"He did this," I said, voice shaking. "He was here. I saw him last night. At the party. Watching me. Touching you. And now this..." I pointed to the message on my shirt.

"Eli..."

"No! You have to believe me! I'm not crazy!" My voice cracked, desperate and raw.

"I didn't say you were." Her voice was soft, her eyes glassy. "I believe you. Okay? I do."

She gripped my hands tightly.

"But this... this is serious, El. Like, dangerously serious."

"I know." I looked down at the ink again. "It's a warning. He's letting me know he's back."

Shasha swallowed hard. "Then we need to figure out why."

I nodded, chest tight.

Because this wasn't a dream.

This was real.

And Jayvin Black was coming for me.

"Shasha... please. Can we just go to class and pretend today is normal?" I begged, my voice barely holding steady. The pressure in my chest felt suffocating. I didn't know what I was saying, I just needed something, anything, to feel normal. An escape. Even if it was a lie.

Shasha glanced at me with worry, softening her features.

"Sure, El. Whatever you want," she said gently. "Just... give me a minute."

I sat on the cold bathroom floor, the tiles pressing against my skin, trying to will the panic out of my system. I don't remember how long I was there or how I even got dressed but at some point, I walked out into the living room, my limbs stiff, like I was on autopilot.

"Yeah, she's here now. I'll call you back," I heard Shasha say quickly, ending a call.

The room looked untouched, normal. Too normal.

"Who were you talking to?" I asked, my voice dull and flat.

"No one..." she replied, grabbing our handbags a little too quickly. "You ready?"

Before I could answer, she paused mid-step, then turned around and stared at me like she was seeing something she didn't want to admit.

She let out a breath, shook her head, and took my hand.

"Sit down, Eliza."

I blinked, confused. She tugged me to the couch and sat on the floor beside me, clutching my hands like they were the last thing holding her together.

"You're not going anywhere today," she said quietly, but firmly.

Her voice cracked.

"I should've believed you," she whispered, eyes shining with unshed tears. "All this time... and I just ignored it. Pretended it wasn't real. But it is. And now it's too damn close."

I saw the guilt on her face. Felt the weight of it in her grip.

"You don't have to do anything, Shas"

"I need to," she cut in, shaking her head. "If it's him... if Jayvin Black really crawled his way out of whatever hellhole he came from... I swear I won't let him hurt you again."

I exhaled, leaning deeper into the couch cushions as her words sank in.

"And we both felt it," she added, shivering slightly. "The writing... the silence that felt like a scream. It's him. I know it."

I nodded slowly.

I knew it too.

But saying it out loud felt like sealing our fates.

A flash hit me last night. The man. The eyes. Hidden in plain sight.

"Eli?" Shasha snapped her fingers in front of my face. "You're zoning out again."

I shook my head quickly, swallowing back the knot in my throat.

"I saw him at the party, Shasha," I finally said, my voice low and broken. "I know it was him."

Her breath caught. Neither of us spoke.

The silence was louder than that music had been.

Shasha left a few hours later, saying she'd pick up lunch and promising she'd dig for answers anything to help make sense of this nightmare we were suddenly living in.

She tried to smile as she closed the door behind her, but I saw the crack in her mask. She was scared too.

And yet... I stayed behind in the silence.

Even in the calm, fear clung to me like a second skin.

There was no safety here. Not in this apartment. Not in this city. Not even in my own fucking mind.

I curled up under the blanket, knees tucked into my chest like I used to when I was younger when nightmares meant mom would be there with cocoa and soft humming.

But she wasn't here now.

Now, I was alone.

Except... for that little brown box she left behind.

I reached over, hesitating just a moment before tearing it open. No writing. No label.

Just memories.

Photos.

Old, fragile snapshots of a life I barely remembered me as a child, smiling like I had no idea what pain was. My baby sister, asleep in a carrier. My mom in a floral dress. My dad with a smile I hadn't seen in years, arm wrapped around her like she was his whole world.

It felt like staring into someone else's life. A past version of me trapped in a frame, forever happy.

That man in the photo he wasn't the one I knew anymore. That smile was long gone. That joy, extinct.

My fingers trembled, the picture blurring as tears welled up.

Then

Knock.

My head snapped up.

Three sharp, violent hits against the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My breath stopped.

Every nerve in my body went rigid.

Shasha had the only other key.

And students were in class.

So... who the hell was that?

Silence followed thick and menacing.

Then: footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Floorboards creaking one at a time.

My body moved before my brain could catch up. I grabbed my phone, hands shaking uncontrollably as I tried to dial but the signal cut out.

Metal hit the floor. A loud clang. Right outside my door.

Then came the worst sound yet

Tearing. As if something metallic was being pried apart. Bent. Broken.

I couldn't breathe.

Another knock.

Harder. Deeper. Meaner.

I scrambled beneath the bed, limbs flailing, chest heaving like it had a mind of its own.

Then

The smell hit me.

Gasoline.

Sharp. Chemical. Heavy.

I tried covering my nose with my sleeve, but it was no use. My lungs burned.

I had to move. I had to get out.

I crawled toward the door, desperate, but my arms felt like wet sand. Everything slowed. Blurred.

And then...collapse.

My face hit the cold floor.

Hands found me in the dark. Grabbing. Dragging. Cold. Unfamiliar.

Fingers brushed my neck...

And then, nothing.

Only darkness.

Thick, swallowing, silent.

And the last thought in my mind, curling like smoke:

Why is this happening?