Page 1 of Chasing Secrets
Chapter One
Nope. Jalen spun on his heel and headed back down the block, refusing to get involved with whatever was making those noises in the alley at two in the morning. Maybe he was dumb enough to walk home this late, but he sure as hell wasn’t suicidal enough to stick his nose around that corner. The entire summer he’d been seeing things that made him wonder if he was losing it. Stuff like men growling real deep-throated animal sounds and then, a couple weeks ago, passing the Frothy Pine, he’d spotted two guys in the parking lot arguing in low voices about tracking down vampires.
Vampires.
There was no way Jalen would believe vampires were real. Those two men had to have been wasted.
As he started down the block, an unsettling feeling crawled up the back of his neck. He glanced over his shoulder, squinting into the darkness, but the street behind him stretched empty and silent.
He quickened his pace, his sneakers making soft thuds against the sidewalk. The streetlamps cast long, distorted shadows that reached for him with ghostly fingers.
“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his damp hair. The night air hung thick and humid, making his T-shirt stick uncomfortably to his back.
A car passed, its headlights briefly illuminating the row of closed storefronts. Jalen checked behind him again. Still nothing, yet the feeling persisted. Invisible eyes boring into him from somewhere in the shadows.
He pulled out his phone, pretending to check messages while using the screen's reflection to scan behind him. The blue light illuminated his tired face and not much else. Jalen slipped the phone back into his pocket and kept walking, faster now.
“Great. Now I’m paranoid on top of being an idiot who works late shifts.”
Maybe those weird growling sounds he’d been hearing around town were finally getting to him. Or maybe he was just losing his mind.
The sound of his own footsteps seemed unnaturally loud against the quiet of the night. Each time he passed an alley, his heart rate kicked up a notch. What was wrong with him tonight? He’d walked this route dozens of times without issue.
The moon hung fat and yellow above him, casting just enough light to make the shadows deeper, more threatening. Sweat trickled down his temple, partly from the muggy night, partly from the growing unease twisting his stomach into knots.
Every rustle of leaves made him flinch. Every car horn sounding in the distance had him looking around wildly. The six blocks to his apartment had never felt so long, making him feel exposed.
“Almost there,” he whispered to himself, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. “Just get inside, lock the door, and forget this whole thing.”
The feeling of being stalked intensified with every step, as if someone—or something—was closing the distance between them. His breathing grew shallow as he rounded the corner onto Maple Street, the familiar sight of Pinecrest Apartments never looking so welcoming.
The security light at the entrance of his apartment complex flickered weakly as he approached. Jalen fumbled in his pocket for his keys, cursing when they slipped from his sweaty fingers and clattered to the pavement. He bent to retrieve them, and a cool breeze brushed the back of his neck, carrying with it a scent he couldn’t identify. Something wild and unfamiliar.
“Come on, come on,” he whispered, finally getting the door open. The familiar musty smell of the lobby wrapped around him as he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.
At his apartment door, his keys fell again, the metallic sound echoing in the empty hallway. “Fantastic,” he grumbled, bending to pick them up. “If there is someone following me, I’m basically gift-wrapping myself at this point.”
Inside his apartment, Jalen leaned against the door, breathing hard. The silence of his small home gradually calmed his racing heart. He flicked on lights as he moved through the living room, banishing shadows to the corners.
“You’re fine. Everything's fine,” he told himself, heading to the kitchen. “Nobody followed you. You’re just hungry and tired and imagining things.”
His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since his lunch break. Jalen turned on the kitchen light and opened the refrigerator, squinting against the bright light. The cool air felt good on his face as he surveyed the sparse contents. Half a carton of orange juice, some questionable Chinese takeout, and a lonely apple stared back at him.
“Gourmet selection as usual,” he muttered, grabbing the takeout container and sniffing it cautiously. Was it supposed to have such a funny smell?
A soft thump came from somewhere behind him. Jalen froze, takeout box in hand. The sound had come from his bedroom.
“No way,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly dry. “No fucking way.”
Jalen lived on the second floor. His bedroom window faced the parking lot, a good fifteen feet from the ground. There was no fire escape, no balcony, no logical way anyone could have gotten in through his window.
He stood in the kitchen, paralyzed with indecision. The smart move would be to run, get out of the apartment and call the police from somewhere safe. But what if he was just being paranoid? What if it was just the upstairs neighbor or the building settling?
Or his imagination playing tricks after his paranoid walk home?
The creaking of a floorboard from his bedroom decided for him. Jalen grabbed a knife from the drawer, holding it awkwardly in front of him. Should he run out the front door and call for help? Or check the bedroom and prove to himself it was nothing?
Before he could decide, the sensation of another presence in the apartment washed over him, undeniable and terrifying.
