I was pulling out my books and necessary stationery when a strange stillness crept over me. The corridor, which only moments ago had felt alive with distant chatter, was now silent , unnervingly silent. I glanced around. Not a soul in sight. The entire stretch was empty, blanketed in a heavy, pitch black gloom that made even the familiar seem foreign.
Then I heard it , soft, deliberate footsteps echoing from somewhere behind me.
My heart gave a sharp jolt. Someone was coming toward me.
I squinted into the darkness. A shadow emerged, long and wavering under the dim emergency lights. The figure's outline was familiar , almost comfortingly so , but his face was lost in the dark. He slowed his pace and then, out of nowhere, started laughing.
A sound that shouldn't have belonged there.
My trembling fingers fumbled for my phone. The glow of my mobile flashlight sliced the blackness apart. That's when I saw him clearly, his hands and clothes drenched in blood.
"Why are you still hiding from me?" he said, voice low and distorted.
When his face finally came into view, my stomach lurched violently. It was him.
My past.
"Anna--"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
My own scream yanked me awake.
I shot upright in my bed, heart hammering so violently that my ribcage ached. My bedroom ceiling stared back at me, indifferent, familiar. It had been a dream. Again. The same nightmare.
My hands were slick with sweat. I wiped my forehead, reaching shakily for the glass of water on my nightstand. It was already 4:30 a.m. The sky outside the window was still black, but with a faint blue whisper of dawn.
I needed air. I needed to move. Maybe a walk would scatter the remnants of the nightmare clinging to my skin.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet brushing the cold floor.
It's been five years since I began living alone. My parents and brother moved to Japan , they wanted me to go with them, but I stayed. Maybe out of stubbornness, maybe because a part of me wanted to prove I could exist on my own.
But our family has never been the kind you see in movies. We don't exchange warm "how are you"s. Conversations, when they happen at all, feel like an obligation. I don't even remember the last time I told them about my nightmares, or about anything real.
All that matters to them is how we look in society's eyes, the family name polished to a shine. The pressure was suffocating. So I cut myself loose.
My phone screen blinked awake when I touched it. One new message from an unknown number. My stomach tightened. This number had been sending me strange texts for three days. Some of my friends were YouTubers and pranksters , maybe this was one of them.
I opened the chat anyway.
Unknown: You should relax before you go to sleep. Stress is one of the main reasons for nightmares.
Unknown: Also, don't forget to eat breakfast before you leave.
I stared at the screen. My blood ran cold. How would this person know about my nightmares? I hadn't told anyone. Not a single soul.
Blocking them was my only instinct. My thumb hovered over the option. Creepy. I blocked the number.
I changed into my running clothes. A morning walk. Fresh air. That's what I needed.
Even though the world outside was still drenched in darkness, I stepped out, slipping my earphones in. Music swelled in my ears, soft and calming. The rhythm of my feet on the pavement slowly began to ease the static in my head.
But soon, the sensation returned , that cold awareness prickling along my spine. Someone was following me.
It wasn't the first time I'd felt it, but today it carried weight, like a hand at the back of my neck. I refused to turn around. My heart beat faster. My breath came shallow.
Then I felt the footsteps quickened.
Panic ignited. I ran faster. My prayers to every god I could think of tangled in my mind, frantic and desperate.
His presence grew closer, like a storm building behind me. And then , a grip on my arm. Firm, strong. He spun me around.
"Anna!"
My name, shouted.
I ripped out my earphones, lungs aching for air. "Simon?"
Simon William stood there, chest rising and falling, worry etched across his features. Relief flooded my body, but my hands still shook.
"You scared me," I managed, trying to steady my voice.
He let out a short, almost guilty laugh. "I was calling you, but you weren't listening , those earphones." His eyes flicked over my trembling form, and something in his face softened. "I'm sorry. I thought you were mad at me or--"
"No. It's fine." I forced a weak smile. "But… what are you doing out this early? You're not exactly the morning-walk type, are you?"
He scratched the back of his neck, the gesture making him look more human, more tired. "There are two cases eating me alive."
"You mean the recent kidnapping and the murder?" My voice felt thin, a fragile thread in the cold Autumn morning wind.
Ashridge had always been a quiet town, the kind of place where nothing worse than a lost dog or a traffic dispute ever made the news. Streets were familiar, neighbors waved politely, and life moved at a measured, predictable pace. Crime was almost nonexistent, or at least, that's what everyone believed.
Until it wasn't.
Suddenly, Ashridge was gripped by a wave of kidnappings and mysterious disappearances. Ordinary routines shattered overnight, leaving a chilling unease in the air. Doors were double locked, shadows seemed to stretch longer, and every familiar face carried a whisper of suspicion. The town that once felt safe now vibrated with fear.
"Yeah." He fell into step beside me, his strides deliberate. "We haven't found a single clue. And the media--" He broke off, jaw tight. "They're making everything harder."
"Don't worry," I said softly, because saying nothing felt wrong. "You'll solve it. Officer Simon William always does."
He gave me a ghost of a smile but didn't answer. We walked in silence for a few beats, the streetlamps flickering overhead, the pavement humming faintly under our shoes as dawn crept in pale streaks across the horizon.
Simon William has been my neighbor for two years. We've grown close, sharing casual laughs and morning greetings, yet I've always kept him at arm's length. Not because of him, but because of the darkness I carry in my heart. A darkness I could never reveal, not even to him, not even to the one person I've trusted in this unraveling world.
"Anna," he said at last, his voice lower, "it's not safe for you to walk here alone. Especially at this hour."
I tried to lighten the mood with a small smirk. "Don't worry. I have a neighbor who's one of the best police officer, always on duty."
But his expression stayed serious. "I'm serious. Be careful. Even if the culprit seems to be targeting men, that doesn't mean you're safe."
My smile faltered. "What do you mean? Who--"
"Yesterday we learned that your office colleague , Julian George , is missing."
I stopped walking. The name hit me like a slap. Julian had just spoken to me yesterday morning over a rushed cup of coffee, teasing me about my schedule, asking if I was free next Saturday. Now missing?
Simon's eyes darted around the empty street before he continued, lowering his voice as if shadows themselves were listening. "We found the same candy."
My stomach turned to ice.
"What do you mean, 'the same candy'?"
"At first," Simon said, his eyes locking with mine, "we thought the kidnapping and the murder were separate cases. But they're linked. The killer leaves candy at the scene , every time. That's how we connected them."
The air between us grew heavy, cold enough to bite. The music still played faintly from my dangling earphones, but the melody sounded like something from another world.
To be continued