Page 30 of Don’t Watch Alone

Chapter twenty-six

Blaiz

They wheel me into a cold, empty hospital room—white walls closing in like a padded cell, fluorescent lights so bright, so sterile, making everything feel unreal.

The hospital odor is burning my nose; the smell is curling in the back of my throat like a deadly substance, and I swear if I breathe in too deep I’ll vomit.

A cop stands outside the door like I’m some kind of monster, like I’m the fucking one they need to worry about.

Like I haven’t already been through hell just to stay alive tonight.

I didn’t go looking to murder anyone tonight; I just wanted to see a horror movie with my friends.

I didn’t want any of this to happen. Christian and Robert are dead because if I hadn’t stopped them, I wouldn’t even be sitting here right now.

There’d be another sheet-covered body pulled out of that mall, and it would have been mine.

So why does it feel like I’m the one under suspicion?

Why does it feel like I’m the one wearing invisible handcuffs?

None of it makes sense, and maybe that’s the most terrifying part of it all.

The mall is still covered in murder—my friends’ blood soaked into the tile and carpet, splattered across shop windows, puddled in places I can’t stop seeing every time I blink my eyes.

All of them... gone. Just gone. And when I think about Tony, it hurts me like a stabbing pain, because how can I breathe in a world without him?

Seven years together, ever since we were dumb, awkward kids in middle school, and now.

.. he is just a memory eating away at me.

I try to hold on to something good, something real.

My mind drifts back to senior prom, the afterparty, the glow of string lights and laughter like distant echoes.

But then the memory turns to something else, something bad.

I see Robert’s face from that night—his breath reeking of alcohol, his eyes glassy but locked on me like he knew something that I didn’t.

He leaned in close and slurred something about how I should leave Tony, that he wasn’t good enough for me.

It felt weird back then, just another drunk idiot talking shit.

But I was so wasted, I blacked out before the night was even over, and now I know I didn’t just drink too much.

Someone fucking drugged me. And it had to be Robert.

I must have been drugged at Christian’s party last week as well. And Robert was there. They were both there. The realization hits me—my body tenses up, my blood pressure spikes, and suddenly I’m not safe even inside this room. Why now? Why not back then, when they already had a chance?

And Andy. Quiet, weird Andy, who showed up at my work and warned me not to go to the movies tonight. How the hell did he know? What did he see or hear?

And Mary. Sweet, Mary. Harmless. Unaware. They stuffed her in a fucking freezer like she was some kind of garbage. She didn’t even know them, so she didn’t deserve what happened to her.

A loud knock cuts through the confusion in my mind, and then a voice: “Miss, I’ve got an update for you.”

I stare at him, my body heavy with exhaustion and anger and something uglier; something colder. “Update? Or are you here to slap cuffs on me because I killed the monsters who were trying to cut me open?” My voice cracks. “They murdered every single person in that mall. I didn’t fucking do it.”

The detective shows no reaction. He steps closer. “No one’s charging you with any kind of crime. We searched Christian and Robert’s homes. There’s something we found in Robert’s place I thought you needed to see.”

He hands me a thick stack of photographs, and my fingers grip around them.

I flip through them slowly, each one cutting into me deeper than the last. My face.

Again and again. Walking into work. Leaving my apartment.

Talking to Tony at the fair last year. Different days.

Different clothes. Different angles. I’m being watched. I was being watched.

For years .

My stomach is turning into a chaotic form of knots as I flip through the photos, then I freeze. One of the pictures isn’t just of me; Andy is in it. He’s in the background, out of focus, but it’s him for sure.

“That’s Andy,” I whisper. “Why is he in some of these? He was one of the victims... he warned me... I thought he was just some weird stalker. A customer of mine said she went on a date with Andy once and found a whole room full of pictures of me.”

The detective nods slowly. “Robert and Andy were roommates.”

“What?” My voice explodes out of me. “Fucking roommates?!”

“Yeah,” he says. “So the photos your customer saw? They were probably Robert’s. Andy might’ve just been caught in the line of fire. Hell, maybe he was trying to protect you.”

I don’t know what to say. My head’s spinning. The horror that’s been suffocating me all night shifts—not just fear, but confusion, regret, guilt, all twisted into a mess I can’t begin to understand. Was Andy stalking me, or was he watching them?

And Mary... why her?

The detective reaches into the folder one last time, removes a folded piece of paper, and hands it to me as if it were a sacred object. I take it and unfold the note.

In case I’m dead, I need someone to know. I tried to stop Christian and Robert, but they threatened to kill me if I opened my mouth. They took Mary by mistake—they thought she was Blaiz. Once they realized it wasn’t her, it was too late. They couldn’t let her go.

The words become blurry, and I can’t see straight.

My name. Mary’s death. Andy’s last confession.

I sit still, gripping the paper as the room seems to be shrinking around me, making it hard to breathe.

This nightmare... it isn’t over. Not really.

Christian and Robert might be dead, but they didn’t just leave behind blood and trauma—they left behind the kind of damage that changes a person forever.

And I’m not who I was before tonight. I can feel it deep down in me, in the way I breathe. Something is broken inside me. Something that won’t ever heal.

Because after what happened in that mall… I don’t think I’ll ever be whole again.