Page 8 of When Death Whispers

My monster is starving and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants…

My death.

2

I should’ve known betterthan to let my guard down.

The lights are back on, but my body is still wired for survival—heart racing, skin crawling, muscles taut and ready to run. We’re closing up shop early since the power went out, and it’s not expected back until after the storm passes. The generator is barely enough to keep the essentials running for an hour, so Donovan, the owner, told us to call it quits.

My monster may be gone for now, but it’s still dark out. Sunrise isn’t for another two hours.

Fuck.

I hover just inside the threshold, hands buried deep in my hoodie pocket, trying to work up the nerve to step outside. The generator hums in the background, doing its best impersonation of normal. But nothing about tonight is normal. Not after what just happened. Not after the way he touched me.

He’s not toying anymore.

He’s hunting.

And he’s hungry.

I glance toward the dark parking lot again and do the math in my head. I could pack tonight. Be gone before tomorrow. I’ve done it before—ghosted entire towns with nothing but a backpack and a burner phone. I could head south this time. Somewhere with noise and streetlights and enough people to blend into.

It wouldn’t be hard.

But this time, it wouldn’t be easy either.

Because this time… there’s someone to leave behind.

My stomach twists, a tangle of guilt and something far more dangerous—attachment.

Hudson.

He was too close tonight. Too warm. Too kind.

And I let him be.

Dammit, Parker. You should’ve known better.

Another gust of wind rattles the metal exit door, and I flinch before I can stop myself. I hate how easily fear slips its way back under my skin. How I’m already imagining the headlines:Girl Caught in Storm – Found Dead in Ditch. No one would think twice. Just a tragic accident.

But then I hear the jingle of car keys and look up to see Hudson walking out of the break room. The overhead light casts a halo around him like some kind of stupid, ironic angel. His hoodie is half-zipped, his hair a little messy, and the familiar knot in my chest pulls tighter.

Five minutes in a car with him is safer than twenty minutes in the dark with what’s waiting for me.

And after that… I’ll disappear. I’ll lure the monster away. And Hudson will be safe.

“Hey… Hudson?”

He pauses mid-step, eyebrows lifting when he sees me twisting my fingers into the hem of my hoodie. His face softens, just slightly. It always does when I let something real slip through.

“Would you… mind giving me a ride home?”

He blinks. “Wow. That sounded like an actual question.”

I almost roll my eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. His voice isn’t smug—it’s surprised. Maybe even a little pleased. Like he’s glad I asked.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, voice quieter now.

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