Page 10

EVE

Rain turned to drizzle, soft against the windshield as I drove home on autopilot. But my mind stayed on Orion—on the way he brushed me off like it had all been a nightmare—bad timing or a misunderstanding.

I’d seen the truth. I knew what I’d seen and his crappy attempts to dissuade me wouldn’t stop me from finding out.

He knew more—about the creature, about everything—and he’d decided I was better off alone.

Of course, I was on my own.

I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, staring blankly at the raindrops trailing down the glass. My breath fogged the window as I sat there trying to gather my thoughts before I went inside, but everything felt like a scrambled mess.

The warmth inside my house should’ve comforted me, but instead, it felt stale and smothering.

My soaked clothes clung to me, water pooling on the floor, but I paid the mess no attention.

I paced in front of the useless fireplace, wrapping my arms tightly around my chest. None of it made sense.

Creatures like that didn’t exist. Swords didn’t flash out of nowhere.

Demons, or whatever the hell that thing was, belonged in bad fright-night movies, not here in quiet and boring Alton Creek.

I dug my nails into my palms, relishing the sting.

What if I really was losing it?

This wasn’t about belief. It happened. There had been blood in my hair. My jacket was missing. Orion could’ve taken it while I was unconscious—maybe to hide something, but none of that was concrete proof.

And my body… it was healed. Completely. That wasn’t normal, even if I had no idea how that happened.

And, just because I couldn’t explain it didn’t make it not real.

I peeled off my hoodie and left it in a soggy heap, grabbing a blanket from the couch and wrapping it around myself as I sat in front of the laptop.

The screen blinked awake.

What the hell was I even supposed to search?

“Demon attacks”? “Shadow creatures”? “Creepy-ass transformations”?

The results were as awful as I expected—conspiracy forums, grainy videos, garbage comments. Fake news. Wires. Clickbait. But I kept scrolling, kept clicking. There had to be something.

Time blurred. An hour. Two, until my back ached and my eyes burned. The stories didn’t match. Ancient lore, horror fiction, religious theories—none of it felt right, and nothing looked like the man who attacked me.

Frustrated, I shoved my fingers through my hair and leaned back.

“Do you know how long I’ve been hunting you, little bird?”

The words sent a chill down my spine. I looked over my shoulder, heart hammering. No one. Just silence. But it felt… wrong. Like something was waiting.

I pulled the blanket tighter. Shook my head. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered. But even here, I didn’t feel safe.

Then—music blared from the screen. I moved to close the ad… and froze.

’Seen something you can’t explain? Serenia the Seer knows all!’

The banner was gaudy—swirling fonts, an ethereal-looking woman with white hair and a crystal ball.

It was laughable.

A scam.

But I couldn’t look away, like something was urging me to click on her name.

‘Answers for those brave enough to seek them.’

Before I could think better of it, I clicked.

The page loaded in a whirl of colors. Serenia’s show was in Roanoke. And tickets were still available.

I stared at the screen. This was insane.

Some TV psychic wouldn’t have the answers I needed so desperately.

But what else did I have? I couldn’t tell my friends.

Darcy would smile with pity in her eyes, and Lila would probably try to have me committed.

And my family? What was left of it anyway.

Louise was already worried enough, and I didn’t need her trying to coddle me further if she knew I was losing my mind.

There was no one else. No one who’d believe me.

The cursor blinked at me like it knew I was stalling.

Maybe Serenia was a fraud. Maybe this was a complete waste of time.

But I had to do something.

I clicked on the ad.

The small theater looked like it belonged to a time long past.

The once-bright marquee was faded and chipped, its letters crooked, barely clinging on to spell Serenia the Seer.

The building leaned slightly, with weathered brick and cracked windows that hinted at better days.

It might’ve been beautiful once, but now it just looked tired—much like the rest of Roanoke these days.

I stood on the sidewalk, shivering as the wind whipped around me, cutting through my jumper like it wasn’t even there. I wondered for the hundredth time since buying the tickets if I’d made a mistake.

“I’m glad to see you getting out of the house more,” Darcy said beside me. Her pastel pink scarf fluttered in the breeze as she gave me a look that was somewhere between concern and curiosity. “But are you sure about this? It just… seems a little out of character for you.”

My jaw tightened. I could feel the defensiveness bubbling up before I could stop it. “I wanted to try something different.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow but didn’t press.

Before the silence got too heavy, Lila rounded the corner, her leather boots clicking against the cracked sidewalk. She was as put-together as ever, her tight black pants and cropped waistcoat making her look like she belonged at a rock concert, not in front of a crumbling theater.

“Parking around here is impossible,” she said, exasperated, flicking her long blond hair out of her face. “I had to circle three times just to find a spot where I wasn’t worried my car would be missing its tires when I got back. Anyway, I need a drink.”

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the door handle and pushed her way inside, the faded posters taped to the glass crinkling as she went. Darcy and I followed.

It wasn’t much better inside—dimly lit with creaky floorboards and the faint smell of mildew—but it was a reprieve from the cold.

Darcy was eyeing the cracked walls with a soft frown, while Lila made a beeline for the dingy bar near the entrance. It was little more than a counter with a tarnished mirror behind it and a row of dusty liquor bottles. Lila strode up confidently, leaning against it like she owned the place.

“So,” she said, her voice teasing as she glanced back at me, “where’d you hear about this crazy show?

This is so not your thing, but I’m loving the change of energy,” she waved the bartender over and ordered three beers, tapping her nails against the counter top as she waited.

“I’ve always wanted to see one of these fraud psychics in action.

You know, the ones who tell people their great-grandma says hi and then charge them fifty bucks for the privilege. ”

I gave her a half-hearted smile. “I knew you’d enjoy this.”

Darcy was quiet but watching me with thoughtful eyes. She was all soft edges—her floral cardigan oversized and cozy, her dark hair swept into a loose braid that made her look like she belonged in a cottage somewhere. She had a husband waiting for her back home and three kids who adored her.

Lila, on the other hand, was sharp in every sense of the word—blunt with her words, confident in her skin, and utterly unapologetic. She had no trouble charming men and was already in line for a promotion at her law firm. Lila succeeded in everything she did, and she knew it.

And then there was me. My tattered leggings and beige sweater felt like a feeble attempt at putting myself together. I was still working the same grueling shifts at the diner I grew up in, going nowhere, and potentially losing my mind in the process.

Standing next to them, I felt… small. Insignificant.

Lila smirked, raising her beer in a mock toast. “Damn right.”

The lights in the lobby flickered, drawing all our attention.

“They must be starting,” Darcy murmured, her voice tinged with unease.

My nerves spiked as we followed the small crowd filtering into the theater.

The air grew heavier as we walked in, a mix of mildew and stale popcorn clinging to every surface.

The seats were a faded red, many patched with mismatched fabric, and the stage was outlined in sparkling lights that tried—and failed—to hide the cracks.

A girl barely out of her teens stood by the entrance, checking our tickets and pointing us to our seats.

“Good luck,” she said softly as we passed, her tone flat but somehow unnerving.

We found our row near the middle, and I sank into my seat between Darcy and Lila. Darcy whispered something while Lila laughed, their voices faint over the roar in my ears.

But my nerves were wrecked. I felt like I was being watched again. Like the air in the theater knew why I was really here, keeping me rooted in my seat.

Their voices blurred together until they didn’t sound real anymore.

Now that I was here, the whole thing felt stupid.

What had I been expecting? Some kind of epiphany?

An actual psychic with real answers? Lila was probably right.

This was all smoke and mirrors—a scam to part fools from their money, and I was no better than the rest of the buzzing audience in attendance.

The lights dimmed, the chatter in the theater fading to a hush. My pulse quickened as the curtain began to move, the faint sound of music swelling from hidden speakers.

“Shh!” Lila hissed, leaning forward eagerly.

The room plunged into darkness, leaving me on edge as the show began.