I wake up in a white room, a heart monitor beeping in my ear.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened. 

I'd finally had enough. The moment Daniel confirmed that the blood on my car belonged to my mother, I just couldn't take it anymore. I fainted and now I wish I never woke up.

But here I am, once again conscious, hooked to machines, under the care of medical professionals. I should be in a padded room, wearing a straitjacket, because I'm obviously insane.

When I first saw my mother's body, I had hope. After all, it was the first time that I could confirm beyond any doubt that I had nothing to do with it. I was with Daniel for the past two days. There was no way I escaped him, ran off to commit murder which involved a lot of blood, and returned fast and clean enough for him not to notice anything odd.

But if her blood was on my car, it's obvious that I did it. The blood was fresh that morning, so I wasn't with Daniel. I didn't even know him then. It obviously happened the night after I was struck by lightning, when I went to bed early. I could have easily slipped out when I thought I was sleeping and killed her. Then attacked Steve like he claimed. I was either sleepwalking, or possessed or something. Or maybe I did it and hated it so much that I repressed the memories and convinced myself that I am innocent.

I'm not. I'm definitely not. There's no other explanation for everything that has happened.

I clutch my head in my hands and lean forward on the hospital bed, trying to push some sense back into my life. There is none. My chest aches and sobs break through my efforts. I don't think I've ever been in this much pain.

"Ms. Romney?"

A nurse walks in, looking concerned. I raise my hands to placate her.

"No, stay away." Who knows if I'll end up hurting her, too? It doesn't fit the pattern, but does the crazed me that kills people even think about patterns and logic?

"You're fine. You just fainted." The woman sounds soothing and I'm sure it's because she has no idea why I fainted.

I need to get out of here. I need to go to the police station and turn myself in. Everyone will be safe as long as I'm in a jail cell. Right?

"I need to go," I say. I should push the flimsy blanket off myself and stand, but I can't.

I'm freezing. How is it this cold in the hospital room? And then the lights flicker and I know what it means. My heart begins to pound and I bury my face in my hands. I don't want to see the shadows. But I can't stop myself from hearing them, I can't prevent them from freezing my soul.

"Could you give us a moment?"

Daniel's voice cuts across the room, filled with determination and a sense of confidence that seems impossible for me at the moment. The wheezing voices fall silent, and even if I'm still shivering, it's from feeling warmth again. I dare raise my face and I see the nurse glancing at him with confusion.

Did she not see the shadows, feel the change in the air? The cold, the noise? Am I truly insane? But then again, the only person who can also sense them is in the room with me.

Daniel himself looks like a Greek statue. He's back in his suit, this time a dark grey one with a white shirt and black tie, looking in control of the situation. I long to go to him, cry and cuddle in his arms, but I know I can't. Even that part of my life is over.

"Detective, I don't think now is the right time to question Ms. Romney. She just woke up and she's obviously distressed--"

"I understand, but it's imperative that I speak with her. Now." He narrows his eyes as he says the last word.

The nurse heaves a sigh, obviously in disagreement with his request. Fortunately, she leaves us alone, most likely saving herself in the process.

Once Daniel slides the door closed behind her, fear overtakes me again. He's in a lot more danger than the nurse because I actually know him and care about him. My heart thumps loudly. Care isn't exactly the right word. I'm not even sure how I feel about him outside of lust.

He strides towards my bed, a muscle twitching in his jaw, and I can tell he's angry. The lights flicker again and I jump, this time searching the corners of the room desperately.

"No, Eva, it's okay." His voice is smooth as he settles on the bed next to me. "You're okay."

"It's not okay!" I screech, my eyes still desperately searching. "Can't you see them? Feel them?"

"They'll go away."

He's right. The room is already warm again and they didn't even get to rattle and wheeze this time. But they're still there, merely hidden. The dream that I might have been imagining them is over.

I whimper and clutch my hair, pulling at the strands. Daniel reaches out and untangles my fingers from my locks. He's gentle, and it only makes me cry even more.

"You should go," I say between tears.

I can feel him tensing, but his voice is still soft. "Don't you want me here?"

"You saw what happened to my mother! You could be next!"

"Eva..." He sounds tired now, but I can't raise my face and look him in the eyes.

"It's me. Can't you tell it's obviously me? I killed all those people! My mother. And Steve."

Poor Steve. He was the most innocent one in this entire thing. On some horrible level, I can convince myself that my mother and Anika deserved what they got. They were both mean, mean women, making other people miserable, not just me. I know that doesn't justify murder, but I can maybe rationalize my actions. But not with Steve.

So he liked his videogames and could be a little too much into them. He most definitely didn't deserve to die over that.

"It's not you," Daniel says, his voice firm. "You know were you were when all three murders happened. You weren't even home when Steve got killed. Or at your mother's place when she did."

"What if I was and I just can't remember? Think about it! There are no finger prints! I have no finger prints! They were all connected to me. Why would anyone else kill them?"

"Why would you?"

I hug my knees and place my forehead on top of them. He makes a good point. I have absolutely no logical reason to kill any of those people. I never even thought about it. Sure, there was passing anger and the need to unload, but I never consciously planned it.

"You're just overwhelmed. Which is natural given everything you've been through. You need rest."

I don't think I can ever rest again. I'm too afraid I'll kill someone else the moment I fall asleep.

"I'm going to speak to the doctor about taking you home."

"No!" I raise my face. "I don't want to go home. I can't go home." That's where I was every time death happened. 

Daniel hesitates and I'm sure his mind is on the other side of the problem, and namely that I can't be alone in the house where Steve died. That's also true. But I'm more scared about killing again than facing my demons.

"This is such a clusterfuck," he mumbles under his breath.

I couldn't agree more. "You should arrest me."

His blue eyes widen and I see the panic in them clearly. "What?"

"I'm a suspect. I'm already linked to three deaths. Wouldn't it make sense to keep me in custody?"

He narrows his eyes at me, his expression changing from shock to annoyance. "Are you being thick on purpose?"

"Come on, Daniel. I know you have enough to detain me, and I won't complain. I won't challenge it!"

The look on his face proves I'm right. But I can also tell he doesn't want to arrest me. He was right. What we did, what happened between us... It was highly unethical and is now clouding his judgement. I wish I didn't have to push him like this, but he has to understand.

I place my palm on his cheek. The warmth of his skin is so inviting. "It would keep everyone safe," I whisper.

He pulls away from me, his eyes flashing with anger. The lights flicker again and I shudder, once again analyzing the corners of the room.

"You didn't do anything," he says, his voice low and controlled. "You didn't kill those people."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because you remember not doing it!"

His voice is suddenly loud and hostile so I turn my attention from the corners to him. I can understand his frustration, his anger. I wish I could believe him. But I also remember the incident with the shadows, how they slipped inside me and changed my appearance. My black eyes and the twisted grin on my face. The sharpness of the features, of my limbs.

I didn't want to believe it then, but I do now.

"That's the point, really," I say, keeping my voice as calm as possible. "I don't remember doing it. If I did, it means I had control and could stop myself."

He shakes his head. "No. That's not how it works. There's no evidence."

"There's no evidence that I didn't do it either."

"Reasonable doubt." His voice is so low, I can barely hear it. "The system works on reasonable doubt. We have to prove that you did it, not that you didn't do it."

"I'm trying to make this easier for everybody."

"Well, you're not!" He focuses on me again, the determination back. "You will come with me, to my place. You'll be safe there."

"Daniel..."

"Your other option is going to your own place or a hotel or wherever, because you're definitely not getting arrested."

For a moment, I want to scream. I can get arrested for something as simple as talking back to a police officer. I could get arrested if I wanted to. But getting into more trouble is not something I'm actively pursuing. A part of me appreciates his conviction and his faith in me.

It's the only thing that gives me the strength to nod.

I feel so exhausted, but I'm afraid to sleep. He knows what could happen, so with him there, maybe I can close my eyes for a few hours. So I get dressed while he takes care of my discharge papers and we leave together. By the looks of it, it's late afternoon and everything is silent.

"How is the investigation going?" I ask, just to break the heavy silence.

"You didn't do it, Eva."

I disagree, but don't press the issue. "I'm still interested, though."

"The evidence is still being analyzed. And you will need to give an official statement about your mother. I was able to put it off because I was there with you and could give them all the relevant information."

Of course I'll have to give a statement. And maybe then another statement about why all of this is happening to me.

"They think you might be a target."

"What?" I turn to him just as we pull up in front of his house.

"Think about it," he says, not looking at me. "Someone is killing your loved ones."

I can't count Anika as a loved one, but I see his point. "Yes, but target me why, specifically?"

"Do you think that a psychopath capable of the murders we've seen would think in logical terms?"

His words get to me and I hug myself. He's right. But he doesn't understand, or refuses to, that the psycho could be me. Because if it is, it makes sense. Steve and the PlayStation chord, Anika and the crystal duck. Even bleeding my mother dry. I always felt like she's the one sucking the joy out of my life. Bleeding me dry.

The only thing that doesn't make sense in all of this is the blood on the windshield. Why would I give myself away like that? Unless my inner demon was merely trying to get my attention.

Daniel probably interprets my silence as fear because he squeezes my shoulder before getting down and helping me to the door.

His house is much tidier this time around, and he leads me not to the couch, but up the stairs and into his bedroom. It's almost clinical in its cleanness, with just pristine furniture and absolutely no personal touch. I sit on the bed, wondering if his career keeps him too busy to personalize the place.

The mattress is comfortable and I sink into it, reaching my arms to the side. Weariness settles over me and I want to sleep so badly. I'm also terrified.

"I'll head over to your place to bring you some clean clothes and toiletries," Daniel says, taking his tie off and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.

I want to thank him, but I can't concentrate as he continues undressing. The muscles of his back are so taunt. My own reaction makes me sick. I shouldn't come anywhere near him. I should ask him to handcuff me to the bed to make sure I don't hurt him.

He turns to me and his tired gaze turns worried. Before I can do or say anything, he marches to the bed and crouches before me. He takes my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him.

"You have nothing to fear," he says, his voice earnest. "You didn't do anything wrong."

I try to shake my head, but he keeps it in place. "I did. Why can't you see that I did?"

"You. Didn't. And you should stop trying to convince yourself otherwise."

Why can't he see the obvious? Why can't he make the logical connections? He's so convinced that I'm innocent when there's absolutely nothing to prove that except my own affirmations. As far as he's concerned, I could be lying. Everything I've ever said and done could be nothing but an act.

"You're innocent." The conviction in his voice startles me a little. And it's not just the way he says the words, but the spell of darkness in his eyes. It reminds me of when I saw his own features distorted by the shadows.

A chill runs down my spine as another possible theory comes to mind.

"Repeat after me," he insists. "I didn't do it."

"I didn't do it." My voice shakes.

"I'm innocent."

"I'm innocent."

He smiles, but it's somewhat dark. "Good girl." He pats my cheek and gets up, heading for the closet.

I hug myself and watch his progress, my mind spinning in maddening circles. I can barely breathe as I watch him changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before stopping by the bed again.

"You didn't do it, okay? You're just rattled after everything that happened."

I just nod, unable to speak anymore. He smiles that dark smile, and bends over to kiss me. His lips are like fire, but this time the burning kills me on the inside. When he leaves the room, promising to return quickly, I can finally let out a breath.

Maybe he's right after all. Maybe I didn't do it.

Because right now, I'm sure he did.

👥

Chapter WC: 2,522

Total WC: 26,310

Could Eva be right? Did she do it? Or is her other assumption correct and Daniel is the guilty party? Why else would he insist that she's innocent? He must know something.

We're getting closer to the end, so stick around to find out what happens!

Thanks so much for your support and I hope you're enjoying the story!