They’re right there.
Just get them and go.
Moving fast now, I head over to the keys, looking over at my bedroom door as I do so.
Only to see it wide open.
I stop, stare.
Okay, now I’m really confused. Did I imagine hearing it close? I try and think back. Maybe I was still half asleep and the sound came from my dream. That’s happened to me before.
That must have been it.
I’m being paranoid again.
I walk over to the bedroom and cautiously poke my head in.
It’s dark in here too.
Pitch black.
Unnaturally so.
And yet…I have the same feeling I had behind The Cloister. Like the room is no longer a room, but a long, cavernous void where nothing can escape, and standing between me and that eternal darkness is someone.
Or something.
I swear I hear it…breathing.
In. And out.
Coming…closer.
Closer.
Oh god.
I quickly fumble for the light switch, turning it on, filling the room with light, expecting to see someone standing inches in front of me.
But there’s nothing.
It’s just my room. Everything in its right place. My purse on the dresser.
I collapse against the doorframe, pressing my hand into my chest. Jesus, I need to stop giving myself a heart attack. I can’t even blame it on the weed since I didn’t have any today.
I exhale loudly, pushing all the air out. It’s starting to feel warmer in here too.
All in my fucking head.
Maybe I’m a little more stressed about this last exam than I realized.
I sigh and turn around, heading back into the kitchen to get a glass of water before I go back to sleep.
I stop suddenly, staring blankly at the red roses in the vase on the table.
Every single one of them is dead.
Chapter Three
“Here we are,” the driver says to me, coming to a crawl along the curb.
“Can you drop me off in the parking lot?” I ask, gesturing to the row of cars to the right. “It’s less distance to walk.”
“Of course,” she says. “Pretty spooky out tonight. Gotta be safe, right?”
She says this all in a very apathetic voice, so I’m not sure how much she really cares, but she pulls into the parking lot and I get out by the path that will lead me to the last building in the Foothill Student Housing, where Elle lives.
It is spooky. The fog is thick tonight and the air is cold enough that I wish I wore tights under my skirt. After a warm and sunny February and March, April seems to be giving us one last blast of winter.
I gather my jean jacket closer around me, adjusting my new purse on my hip, the crossbody chain tangling with my necklaces. The parking lot is fairly well lit, but even so, the mist is heavy around the lights, obscuring the path in front of me. Feels like I’m walking into a dream, which puts my senses on high alert.
I haven’t seen my stalker recently, but that’s because I’ve been home doing nothing but studying. I finally had my exam yesterday, and I’d like to think I aced it. Every question that came up I was able to answer with confidence, so now that it’s all over, I’m able to let my hair down and relax, hence why I’m meeting Elle at her dorm, having a few drinks, then going to a house party nearby.
But even though thoughts of the stalker—and Atlas Poe—have been moved to the back of my mind, my exam taking all precedence, I know that the area around the campus and student housing can be a bit dicey sometimes. It’s considered a safe area, but you can never be too careful. There are always stories of girls getting attacked.
I walk down the path, my pace quickening. Through the fog I can barely make out the lights coming from Elle’s building, everything else disappearing into the trees.
A twig snaps behind me.
I stop and spin around.
There’s nothing there but mist, swirling around me like a cloak.
But I’m done with taking chances.
I start jogging down the path, the feeling of something dark and menacing right at my tail, until I reach the door, breathless, throwing myself inside the building.
I look back out.
Nothing there.
Just fog moving the trees.
I exhale loudly.
Even though I haven’t sensed the stalker, if I ever even had one, I can’t say things have been one hundred percent normal lately. Yes, I’ve been studying, which means I’ve been running on low sleep, eating a lot of junk, smoking a lot of weed to help me sleep, and drinking the occasional glass of wine. Sunshine is giving me migraines now, probably because I’ve been holed up in the dark, staring at a screen for hours on end.
But there’ve been some things I can’t explain.
Like the red roses dying.
Not just wilting on the stem but literally drying up, like they’d been pressed between pages of a book, like the life was sucked out of them long ago.