1.
Mega
I take a deep breath, inhaling the rich, earthy scent of the bayou. My new home. I've always dreamed of living somewhere with character, and this old house certainly fits the bill. Nestled at the edge of the swamp, it's the perfect blend of rustic charm and natural simplicity. I moved in a couple of days ago, but there are still boxes that need to be unpacked, and the place isn’t homey enough yet. Fishing out the quilt I bought at a flea market, I drape it over my worn leather couch and take a step back.
Putting my hands on my hips, I tilt my head to the side.
It actually looks pretty good and it suits the shabby-chic interior. Everything here is old. The wooden floors creak with every step, telling stories of the ones who lived here before me. The breeze that sneaks through the slightly warped window frames carries whiffs of the mysterious swamp. Most people wouldn’t probably find such an isolated place so comforting, but I do.
Then again, I’ve always had an edge to me.
Humming to myself, I arrange my books on the shelf, when my phone buzzes on the coffee table. I glance at it, frowning because I’m not expecting a call from anyone. It’s been years since I spoke to my family, and the number is unknown. I hesitate for a moment, then pick it up.
"Hello?" I say, already tense because I don’t like to be caught off guard.
There's no response. Just silence. Then, I hear it – the sound of breathing. Slow, deliberate. My heart skips a beat.
"Hello?" I repeat, a little louder this time. My voice wavers, betraying my unease. ”Can you hear me?"
The breathing continues, and I feel a chill creep up my spine. I clench the phone tighter, trying to convince myself that it's probably just a prank call. Kids playing a joke. Nothing to worry about. But the longer the silence stretches, the harder it is to hold onto that thought.
"Who am I speaking to?" I demand to know, trying to summon some courage.
Finally, the breathing stops, replaced by a voice. Low, almost a whisper, but clear enough to make out every word.
"Do you ever get scared, living in that big, old house all alone?"
My blood turns to ice. I can feel my pulse in my ears, loud and frantic. My eyes dart around the room, searching for something – anything – that might explain this. Did someone see me move in? Are they watching me now?
"Who is this?" I ask.
”I would be scared. Shadows always seem bigger when you’re alone.”
”I’m going to hang up now.”
”But we’re just getting started. And I want to keep talking to you. You have the most beautiful voice," the caller rasps, his tone smooth and unsettling.
My blood runs cold.
”I like the way it trembles. Your innocence, your fear... it’s intoxicating.” A chilling laugh escapes him. ”I like the darkness in you.”
"You know nothing about me," I clip, my hands trembling.
”I don’t have to know. I can see it in your eyes.”
For a moment, I expect seeing a figure standing in front of me but there’s nobody there. ”You need to leave me alone…”
”I can’t,” he says and I can hear the smile in his voice. ”And you don’t want me to either. You want someone who sees you for who you really are.”
"No," I whisper, but even to my own ears, it sounds weak, unconvincing.
"I can make you feel things you've never felt before," he continues, his tone seductive. "I can make you mine."
My breath catches in my throat, a shiver running down my spine. "Stay away from me," I croak.
”Do not hang up…,” he warns, but I let out a choked cry and do just that. I stand there, the phone still pressed to my ear, my heart pounding in my chest. The house feels colder, the sun icier and more menacing. If I turn around, I have the feeling someone will grab me and every single creak the house makes amplifies my terror. Somebody out there knows me intimately. Somebody out there is watching me. Waiting for the right moment to strike.
He’s not done with me yet.