Page 45 of Haunted Prey

Begrudgingly, I went upstairs, but I wasn’t ready to sit in bed all night. I decided to take a shower, hoping it might calm my nerves. I would have considered a bath but the tub wasn’t in the best condition with chips and cracks on its side.

I let the water run till it warmed up. I took off my clothes and then stared into the mirror. Sometimes I really didn’t recognize myself. Sometimes I couldn’t even look myself in the eye.

I rubbed at the heart necklace instead and turned for the shower.

I spent a solid half hour under the hot water before I forced myself out. I snuck into my room to change into borrowed pajamas and slide my arm back into the sling. As I went to slip back into the bathroom to comb my hair and brush my teeth, I paused in the hallway.

The darkness down the passage felt heavier somehow. Or maybe I was just imagining it. I had to be.

Was that his shape or was it something else?

I stood there, staring, trying to figure it out. I turned for the bathroom, and it was like I could feel him right behind.

I froze. My head felt fuzzy as if another headache was starting. Another episode of the Lulladex withdrawal I couldn’t seem to shake.

Like a sleepwalker, I stepped back into the bathroom and turned to look in the mirror, and sure enough, he was there.

Was he a result of the pill or of my trauma or both? I was betting on both. Still, he scared me. I told myself I didn’t believe in ghosts, but this sure felt real as fuck.

Silently, he slipped an arm around me, his mouth against my ear. “Come follow me, Evee,” he whispered. “Come follow.”

“How?”

He picked up a small pair of scissors someone had left on the counter next to the sink. He turned the scissors one way then the next in front of my face.

“Show me your mine. And we can be together forever. You just have to become like me.”

Like…him.

I took the scissors and held them.

I pictured Emery’s face when the mask was off. The scars he had. From wounds he had inflicted on himself. So many beautiful scars.

Become like me.

As if time had been paused and someone had hit play, I brought the scissors to the side of my temple and pressed the sharp end into my skin.

The headache will slip right away. The nightmares will spill out and you’ll float away…to the ocean…to me.

The way his voice warped at the end made me shudder, made me want to scream. I sliced across my temple down to my eyebrow.

I gasped at the pain and dropped the scissors. Blood gushed into my eye. I blinked, and my phantom was gone.

“What the actual fuck?”

I looked over. Alex was gaping at me from the doorway, his face ashen.

“Yo, are you okay?” He took a step back as if he were about to bolt.

I put a hand up to the cut, hoping to stifle the blood. Before I could utter a word, he was inching his way down the hall.

“It’s cool, we're cool,” he said in a shaky voice. “I’ll call 911.”

I blinked again, confused at what the fuck I had just done. Finally coming to my senses, I grabbed a towel and put it to my temple before following him.

I caught him in his room, about to hit the emergency number.

“Wait. Please don’t. I’m okay. I just…I was going to cut my hair, but I slipped. That’s all. Please don’t call anyone.”

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