MILLIE BROWN

My heart leaps into my throat as the door flies open. I whip my head to the side and see Leah strutting in, completely oblivious to the over-six-foot-tall man crouched on my table.

He doesn't flinch, doesn't move a muscle, his eyes never leaving mine, and it's like he doesn't care that someone else is in the room. Or worse—he knows she can't see him.

I yank the blanket up to cover my chest, realizing that my top was still off and my stiffened nipples were still out in the open. My brain fumbles for an explanation, anything that doesn't sound insane. "I can explain," I start, my voice barely a whisper, shaky and breathless.

Leah doesn't even let me finish. She waves a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. "Are you drunk? You always take off your clothes when you're drunk." She walks over, bends down, and picks up my shirt from the floor. She tosses it at me, hitting me square in the face.

I scramble to grab it, clutching the fabric tightly as I look back toward the corner. He's still there, perched like some dark, predatory bird, watching us with that unsettling calm.

His expression hasn't changed; he's still holding his dick in his hands, stroking up and down slowly and sensually.

"So," Leah continues, completely unaware, "I was able to talk to Mum, and I can stay over. Isn't that exciting? We get to spend my last night here together."

Last night? I blink, her words barely registering. My mind is still tangled in the web of terror spun by the man in my room.

She's so close to him—so close I could scream. But he doesn't react. It's like she's talking in a different world, a different reality where he doesn't exist.

"Your last night?" I manage to croak out, trying to keep my eyes on Leah and not on him. My fingers twist in the blanket, my skin still prickling with that electric charge. I try to match her casual tone, but the words feel stuck in my throat.

"Yeah," Leah says, a bit too breezily, as if this isn't news. "Dad's finally got that job transfer. We're leaving tomorrow morning. I thought I told you." She pauses, narrowing her eyes at me, then softens.

"Millie, are you sure you're okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

If only she knew.

I force a laugh that sounds more like a strangled breath. "No, no ghosts. Just... tired. And maybe a little drunk, like you said." I pull my shirt over my head, the fabric sliding over my skin like a flimsy shield against his dangerous gaze.

Leah grins, clearly buying it. "Well, get dressed. We should go downstairs and enjoy the party. You only turn eighteen once!" She spins around and heads for the door, humming some off-key melody.

I swallow hard, daring to glance back at him. He's still there, still watching me, that small smile playing on his lips as he tugs his dick back in his trousers. I can't tell what he's thinking, but his expression tells me he's grown bored of our interaction.

As Leah reaches the doorway, a strange idea occurs to me—a wild thought that sends a jolt through my spine. What if he wants me to be alone? What if he's waiting for her to leave?

I have an idea of what will happen if she goes, but I'm not sure I want to give him the satisfaction.

"Leah, wait!" I call after her, my voice sharper than I intended. She stops and turns, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Actually... can you stay here with me for a bit? I'm really not feeling great. I'd feel better if you were here."

Leah tilts her head, her expression softening again. "Sure, Millie, if that's what you want. We can chill here for a bit and talk till the sunrises, just like we did when we were kids."

I nod, my gaze flicking back to the man. His smile widens ever so slightly, a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he's amused by my little game. I don't know if I've won anything, but I know, he's staying just to put me on edge. After a sinking exchange, he walks back to the window and jumps out.

"Hold on-did you say job transfer? Leaving tomorrow morning?" I ask, my brain finally catching up to the bomb Leah just dropped.
She smiles at me, that easy, oblivious smile of hers.

"Yeah, I told you over and over that Dad was working on something."

"But you never mentioned you'd be leaving with him. What am I supposed to do without you?" My voice trembles, a mix of confusion and something deeper-something close to panic.

Leah rolls her eyes like I'm being dramatic.
"Millie, we graduate and go off to college soon. We won't be apart for long."

My heart twists at her nonchalant tone. Is this what our friendship amounts to? I can't understand why she's acting like this is not a big deal.

I feel betrayed, like everything we've been through is being swept aside as an afterthought. Why doesn't she care more?

And why is my body reacting like this? My ears are ringing, a high-pitched whine that drowns out everything else. My skin feels like it's on fire, heat spreading across my face and down my neck.

Every sense is heightened, every nerve frayed. I can't seem to calm myself, no matter how hard I try. Everything is fading, fading-glazing over like an oil slick across my vision.

The room is a blur, twisting and spinning.
Leah's voice becomes distant, muffled.

She's running toward me, but I can't tell if she's getting closer or farther away. Did I fall? I feel the cold floor against my cheek, and then Leah's hand on my shoulder, shaking me. Her lips move, but the words don't reach me. "Leah," I try to whisper, but my voice is swallowed by the ringing in my ears.

"Leah, I can't hear you. Speak louder."

Then, a scream-a piercing, gut-wrenching scream from downstairs. Mom's scream.
Panic floods me. Why is she screaming? Am I still on the floor? Why do I feel like I'm unconscious but awake at the same time?

"Mum? Mum!" I call out, but my voice is drowned out by the chaos in my mind. I see her then-blood pooling around her on the kitchen table, her face pale, her eyes staring into nothing.

It's my birthday. Where is everyone? Why is the house so empty? "Mum, are you dead?" My voice is a small, broken thing. I reach out to touch her, but her blood is cold, too cold. It doesn't feel real.

"Leah!" I shout, my voice hoarse. Where is she? Is she here? I need her here. I have to keep her here, safe. But then I see them-my stalker and Leah, standing together like they belong in the same frame, like they're sharing some secret I'm not privy to. Can she see him now?

"Millie, no!" She shouts my name as his hands twist and transform, claws sprouting from his fingers. He moves with terrifying speed, slashing her throat in one swift motion. Blood sprays the room like a grotesque fountain, and I can't breathe. "Leah!" I choke, trying to get to her. "Leah!"

He grabs her by the arm, dragging her away from me. I push myself up, my legs wobbling like they belong to someone else. Where is he taking her? No, no, no... My thoughts tumble over each other like stones in a landslide.

A crystal glimmers in his hand, dark and foreboding. The air in the room thickens, warping and bending, and suddenly a black, swirling void opens up in the middle of my living room. A portal-a way out, or a way in. He leaps through it, taking Leah with him.

"No!" I scream, lunging after them. I reach for him, my fingers brushing against the fabric of his trousers.

I fail, He shoves me back, and I fall hard, the impact jolting through my bones. The crystal slips from his grip, smashing on the floor. It shatters into two jagged halves, one sliding toward me. I grab it, my head pounding with a pain so fierce I swear it splits my skull.

Am I dead? Did my head crack open?

The world blinks out, then back in again.

I jolt awake, gasping for air. I'm still in my bed. The room is dim. Was that all a dream?

"Leah!" I call out, my throat raw, my chest heaving. There's no response. I try to stand, but a foul, metallic scent fills my nostrils— blood. No. No way. I look down at my hands and see them stained red, sticky and warm.

It wasn't a dream.