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A low voice came from behind me, making me skid to an immediate halt. "You're with Ms. Greenbury, yes?"

I turned. A tall, handsome man in a white coat and mint scrubs was standing before me. His name-tag said he was a resident.

"How is she?" I asked, worried.

"She's got a fractured ankle, but otherwise, she'll be fine," he said, his voice lilting with a gentle Indian accent, as he checked his clipboard. "Could've been a lot worse from what I hear. Dropping a glass coffee table while on the stairs? Dear me." He shook his head.

"Yeah, can't say it was fun." I forced a smile.

That 'glass coffee table' was the cover story we had come up with in the car. After all, we couldn't exactly tell the doctor that we had just faced some sort of a... Even now, I struggled to put it into words.

"You can go see her now." He pointed down a short hall. "She's in the far bed. We're just waiting for her cast to set, then you can go home."

"Great. Thank you so much!" I said and then darted away, following his finger.

The double doors at the end opened up into a large ward.

I glanced up and down the rows, trying to spot Polly.

Most of the beds were empty, save a mother with her young son, who was counting the fresh stitches in his arm; a teenage girl in a volleyball uniform with a bag of ice on her knee, surrounded by a few of her teammates; and one bed, at the end of one row with a crowd around it.

That had to be Polly.

As I walked over, no one noticed me; they were too enraptured with Polly as she was busy retelling our cover story.

"So, halfway up the stairs, I misplace my foot, and whoosh!" She made a swiping motion through the air.

"My foot goes out from under me. So, I fall and, in the process of falling, let go the coffee table. It lands on my leg before sliding down and taking out poor Rachel, my friend who I came in with. And then the glass did what glass does when it's dropped, and my ankle did what ankles do when you drop a coffee table on them. They broke!"

Her small crowd laughed, completely under her charms. Still, though Polly was giving it her all, I could see a noticeable difference in her eyes. They were darkened... not quite dead, but they had come close. They had seen the kind of things you couldn't unsee.

A nurse clapped his hand to his face in horror. "That's awful!"

Polly shrugged casually, playing her role well. "It's as simple, and as stupid, as that."

"Guess next time you'll leave the heavy lifting to the men!" teased a silver-haired doctor.

Polly's jaw clenched for a moment, and then her mouth swept up into a brilliant smile. To an outsider it might look enticing, but I had seen it enough times to know what it really meant. It was a good sign to back off. "Right you are, doctor!" Polly said through her teeth.

I cleared my throat to save Polly from the gawkers. They all turned to look, and Polly's eyes brightened as soon as she saw me. "There you are!"

I waved awkwardly as I waded through the group of people, making my way to her bedside. "Hey! How are you feeling?"

"Like I could use a drink," Polly cracked, and her group of admirers chuckled; was it only me who saw how forced it was? Poor Polly.

"We all could, honey," came a voice from behind me. It was a nurse, who looked very imposing despite her short stature. She nodded to the crowd of people around Polly. "But these guys need to earn it first." She clapped loudly twice. "Get back to work, people! Let the lady rest!"

Polly's fan club quickly scattered. After they were all gone, the formidable nurse turned back to us, now absolutely cheerful. "Sorry about that, honey... Sometimes you have to crack the whip to get anything done. They'll find any reason to screw around."

For the first time in a couple of days, Polly's smile seemed genuine. "I know that all too well. I'm a manager too."

The nurse nodded knowingly. "Well, I'll get your paperwork so you can fill it in while you wait for your cast to set. Just buzz if you need anything else... though we don't serve alcohol." Then she shut the privacy curtain and let us be.

As soon as we were alone, Polly's facade crumbled, and she slumped back into the bed, her brow twisting into a knot.

"Thank God they're gone, I was about to lose it," she muttered to herself, her voice quivering slightly. After a moment of quiet, she added: "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you."

I shook my head.

I didn't blame her; what rational person would believe that it was a hostile supernatural presence instead of the simple explanation of an emotional breakdown? If anything, I blamed myself. The thing had gone after me first, after something I must have done, and now I had gotten her involved. She had already suffered enough, especially if she had watched her sister go through this too. My chest tightened a little more.

"Don't worry about it," I whispered, not meeting her eyes.

"Don't worry about it?" Polly sat up again. "This isn't like I owe you a cup of coffee or something! My stubbornness nearly got you killed! Twice! But I decided how I'm going to make up for it. I'm going to help you."

My eyes flicked back to her face; it was tense, resolute. "Help me?"

"Yes. I'm going to help you get rid of this thing."

"But... why?"

She tilted her head and gave me a look like it should be obvious. "From the sounds of it, it probably killed my sister. Now it's trying to kill you. I can't let it do that to someone I care about, not again."

I said nothing. I had thought about this while being bandaged up, and something about it didn't sit right with me. When Polly's sister had been attacked, Polly never even had a clue because it had been careful enough only to attack Lillian when she was alone.

Yet, this time, despite all the other similarities, it had no problem attacking me while another person was right there.

What had changed?

Was it something about Polly?

Or maybe it wasn't the same thing after all... My head just ached the more I thought about it, the what-ifs and maybes bouncing around my skull.

"Well?" Polly prodded, as I left my silence drag on.

"Polly..." My eyes traced over the crisp white cast wrapped around her leg. It had already broken her bones, and it undoubtedly could do much worse. I couldn't agree to letting Polly help me. "Look at you! You've already gotten hurt. If you get involved even more, it might kill you."

"It already tried to kill me. And even if you ditch me, it could still come after me. Why do you think it wouldn't?"

"But... I don't even know what I'm getting into! We don't even know if it is the same thing that killed Lillian!" I snapped but already knew I was losing. My argument wouldn't hold up against Polly's iron will. I was grasping at straws.

"Well, if it's not, this one hell of a coincidence."

"No!" my voice rose, but I still refused to look at her. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist if I looked into those eyes, those eyes that had every reason to be there with me, if not more. She knew exactly what kind of danger was ahead, and she was ready to face it.

Desperate and out of ideas, I turned to leave, to simply run away. Polly grabbed my wrist. I tried to wrench myself free, but her grip was unbreakable. Finally, I gave up and turned to face her.

"I'll go after this thing even if you won't let me do it with you. But we both know we have a better chance together."

That force she had... it steamrolled right over you and, like always, my will was going to buckle to hers. She wasn't going to drop this. My only two options were to either accept her help or get the hell out of her way.

"Please, Rachel."

"Fine," I sighed and sat down in the chair next to her bed, defeated.

I glanced at Polly, and found her face had brightened, a light smile tugged at her mouth though her expression was still sombre.

I managed to smile back; despite everything, I found small comfort in the fact that I wouldn't have to do this alone.

After a heavy silence, I spoke: "So... Where do we start?"

"From the beginning, I guess. Find out what it is, where it came from, and what it wants with you. Maybe something happened in your apartment, like a murder or a suicide. That's how this sort of stuff starts, right?"

"But your sister didn't live in my apartment..."

Polly's face fell into a frown. "Right..." She went quiet for a moment. "But we know more about your situation than hers. Might as well focus on how it all started for you."

I nodded simply, not having any other ideas to offer; as a sceptic, I'd spent most of my life ignoring this stuff. But even so, I wasn't sure this was a regular haunting.

I kept seeing those creepy yellow eyes in my head.

Even I could tell that it was no ghost, and I at least knew enough to know that if it wasn't a ghost, it could be much, much worse.

Either way, we had to start somewhere. I buzzed for the nurse.

?

It was already the afternoon by the time we awoke.

After a quick, greasy breakfast and in-depth planning session, we decided that our first step in our plan was to check out my apartment, talk to my landlord, and—even though I really didn't want to—talk to my neighbour, Luc. My newfound belief in the supernatural didn't make me like him any more; hell, it made me like him less, seeing as now there might be actual weight to his prediction.

It didn't exactly put me in a cheery mood.

Polly and I tried to make ourselves look presentable as possible with what we had.

We didn't look bad, but we didn't look good either.

Our hair was limp and greasy from the two days without bathing, and we didn't have many toiletries on hand—certainly not any makeup. But it would have to do. We weren't about to put our lives at risk just to have a shower.

When we arrived at my apartment, the appearance of the building caught me off guard. My mind had apparently warped it into a horrible place that fit the description of a haunted dwelling, but it looked just as unassumingly simple as ever.

As we climbed out of the car, I noticed, to my surprise, the psychic shop's sign was flickering feebly, alight and open at a reasonable hour for once. My stomach clenched; that meant he would be home, and I would have to speak to him. I didn't exactly relish the idea; maybe I'd let Polly do the talking. After all, she seemed eager enough. I turned to talk to her, but she was already halfway up the front steps to the door of my landlady's flat.

I'd thought crutches were at least going to slow her down, but apparently not.

She prodded the buzzer as I ran up the steps to join her.

Only a few moments passed before the door opened, revealing Mrs.

Malik, wearing a creamy mint-green dress with her signature frilly apron and string of pearls.

Her cheeks were as full and rosy as ever, except she looked shocked at our arrival, like we were relatives come back from the dead.

I could hardly blame her with our shabby and battered appearance.

Mrs. Malik was polite enough to quickly wipe the startled look from her face and beamed at us instead. "Miss Vaughn, yes?"

I nodded. She looked to Polly questioningly in a polite way. "And this is?"

"Pollaine Greenbury, nice to meet you," Polly said, her demeanour sliding effortlessly into her charming, professional tone. This seemed to pacify Mrs. Malik, and she beamed wider at Polly.

"How I help you girls?" Mrs. Malik asked, thick accent flavouring every syllable.

Polly and I exchanged glances. I figured I should be the first one to speak, since it was my apartment. "Umm, have you heard any strange noises lately? I've been hearing... things."

I saw Polly roll her eyes at my lame attempt, but I stayed focused on my landlady.

Mrs. Malik looked thoughtful and then shook her head. "No, no, everything quiet, everything good."

"Oh..." My voice trailed off. I had no clue how to get the information I needed out of her. I couldn't exactly come out and ask if she's seen any horrible transparent monsters that screamed like banshees.

Luckily, Polly took the reins. "Nothing? No bumps or voices or animals?"

Mrs. Malik's eyes narrowed. "No pets allowed in this rooming."

"No, Mrs. Malik, I don't have any pets!" I added shrilly. "Have you heard anything though? I hear... something that sounds like a dog sometimes."

My landlady considered this point for another moment. "No, maybe the telly-vizzy? My roomings been all very good, very nice." She smiled at me.

I smiled back, wide and insincere. If only she knew what was lurking in her basement suite.

"If you don't mind me asking, who lived in Rachel's apartment before her?" Polly jumped on the mention of tenants.

"Oh nice young couple, but got baby made, had to find bigger home." She laughed then, like she had told a dirty joke.

I hardly thought "got baby made" constituted vulgarity in this day and age, but her innocence made me happy in some way. It was like she was incorruptible in the midst of all this shit.

"Happy leaving!" Mrs. Malik continued. "Very good people but family is much better and I am a happy for them! Any other thing?"

"No, that's all... Thanks for your time, Mrs. Malik," I said. My voice was a whisper, carrying my disappointment from this fruitless endeavour.

But my landlady didn't pick up on it, and kept smiling as she waved goodbye and shut the door. I sighed and rubbed my temples. My apartment didn't seem to have a dark history that could be the cause for all this, and we had no other leads.

I glanced at Polly as we began to descend the stairs. "Well, that was a bust. What's next?"

Before Polly had a chance to respond, we heard a door creak open.

She turned back, looking up the stairs, like she expected to see Mrs.

Malik returning with some fact just remembered.

But it didn't come from above but below, from one of the basement suites. Gripped with horror, I quickly scanned my own doorstep, expecting to see that shimmering, transparent creature crawling out, ready for another attack... But there was nothing there.

I flicked my head back the other way, to my neighbour's door.

It was him.

Luc.

He hummed to himself as he ascended the stairs to street level, hands in the pockets of his navy peacoat and his black waves bouncing slightly with each step.

As he turned to look up and down the street, I saw he had a slight smile playing on his lips.

He was so sexy.

.

.

I couldn't help but acknowledge it, even though I hated him.

He must have some redeemable qualities, like being good in bed.

.

.

I thought, then stopped myself, cursing internally for even letting my brain wander down that path.

He was a huge jerk, and regardless of being hot, he was totally not worth my time.

I had much more important things to deal with.

Speaking of which.

.

.

"Hey!" I called out. "Hey, wait! I have some things to ask you!"

Luc turned to face me. His smile had been replaced by a taut look of confusion. As soon as he saw me, his face fell and his eyes widened. What little colour he had in his face vanished.

I scowled back at him, my mouth slightly open in offence. I knew I looked a little rough today, but surely not that bad—

"You... You son of a bitch!"

The shriek came from behind me, from Polly. It carried a hatred that I could feel in the air, the kind of hatred that made you feel sick just from seeing someone... like the effect Rick had on me.

I turned to look at her, shocked at her hostility.

Her eyes were wild, fierce, vicious, her full lips pulled back in a snarl.

Sure, I had told her all about him and what he had done, but his crime against me wasn't worth this kind of loathing. If she hadn't been impeded by crutches, I was sure Polly would've leapt forward and simply killed him.

Looking back to Luc for some kind of clarification, I saw his expression had changed from shock to horrified sadness. I glanced between the two of them, trying to make sense of this situation, waiting for someone—anyone—to explain it to me.

But apparently Polly wasn't going to let her crutches interfere with her rage. She hobbled down the steps, shaking with fury, making her descent unstable. "You bastard. You evil piece of—"

She slipped on one of the lower steps, trying to take too many at a time. I caught her arm just as she fell, almost slipping myself. We crumpled to the ground. Polly fought against my grip to upright herself again; I tried to keep her still, and calm her down.

But when we finally collected ourselves and looked up, he was gone. Absolutely gone. I hadn't heard his footsteps as he ran away or the door to his apartment slam or the sound of a vehicle. He was just gone.

Polly growled in frustration. I pushed her down onto the step, forcing her to sit.

"What the hell was that?" I snapped at her, once she was settled.

"That bastard..." She ignored me, still flicking her eyes back and forth, as if trying to spot him in his hiding place so she could leap up and continue her attack.

"What. The. Hell. Was. That?" I repeated, my voice low and serious.

"That was him! That was him, the fucking rat bastard!" she shouted back at me, her face flushed with anger and exasperation.

"Who?"

"Rachel, that was the guy my sister was dating... the guy who dumped her just before her attacks started."

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