"Did you like my present?"
Michael's voice slipped through the phone like something alive—cold… controlled… almost amused.
I froze.
My breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat, refusing to move forward… or back.
"The shock…" I forced the words out, my voice trembling despite everything."It was indescribable… How could you do this? Why? Why her?!"
Silence.
Then—
a faint chuckle.
"Yes… I didn't expect you to be so… appreciative."
My grip tightened around the phone until my fingers hurt.
"Why the hell would you—"
"This is just the beginning."
He cut me off.
His voice dropped—lower… closer… like he was standing right behind me.
"Just wait… and watch what happens next."
A chill crawled slowly up my spine.
Not fast.
Not sudden.
Slow… deliberate… like something enjoying the process.
"But I advise you," he continued calmly,"clean up. Leave."
A pause.
"I've already called the police."
My heart—
stopped.
"They're coming for you."
Click.
The line went dead.
I didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't think.
Michael…
The same one who brought me here.
The same one who introduced me to the barmaid.
The barmaid…
Slowly—
too slowly—
I turned my head.
My eyes found her.
"Why…?"
The word came out hollow. Broken.
"Why her…? Why me…?"
It wasn't just anger.
It was something deeper.
Something… rotting inside me.
I moved.
I don't remember deciding to.
I got dressed.
My hands were trembling—
but I couldn't feel them.
Everything felt distant.
Muted.
Like I was watching myself from somewhere far away.
I approached the body.
Stopped.
Then slowly… knelt.
"…I'm sorry."
I didn't know why I said it.
The words didn't feel like mine.
I searched her belongings.
There wasn't much.
A phone.
Some money.
"Because I don't have shit…" I muttered bitterly.
But when I looked at her again—
I froze.
Her face…
It didn't look terrifying anymore.
Not like before.
"She was human…"
That thought—
hit harder than anything else.
Not a nightmare.
Not a situation.
A person.
I stood up.
Left.
The hallway was empty.
Too empty.
No cameras.
No staff.
No sound.
Even my footsteps felt… wrong.
Like they weren't echoing properly.
I stopped near the exit.
"Was I lucky…?"
A dry, broken smile pulled at my lips.
"…No."
A pause.
"Of course not."
My phone rang.
I flinched.
Answered immediately.
"I made the way for you…"
His voice.
Again.
Always his voice.
"W–wait—"
"Just wait for my call."
Click.
Gone.
Again.
He never gave me time to speak.
"…You set me up."
My voice dropped to a whisper.
"A perfect trap…"
I went back home.
I don't remember the way.
I don't remember walking.
But I remember—
opening the door.
And seeing him.
Michael.
Sitting there.
Waiting.
Like he had always been there.
Something inside me snapped.
I lunged at him.
"WHY ME?!" I shouted, hitting him with everything I had."Why did you choose me?!"
He didn't dodge.
Didn't step back.
He let me hit him—
once.
Twice.
Then—
he struck back.
One hit.
The air vanished from my lungs.
My body collapsed.
"Because you deserve it."
His voice was cold.
Flat.
Final.
"Deserve WHAT?!"
"Revenge."
The word didn't sound like a word.
It sounded like a sentence.
I staggered back.
Then turned—
ran to the kitchen.
The knife was already in my hand before I realized it.
I came back.
Holding it toward him.
"Tell me the truth!" I yelled."I know what I did wrong—BUT WHAT DID SHE DO?!"
He smiled.
Slowly.
Twisted.
"She…"
A pause.
"…was part of my old family."
My body went cold.
"No…"
A quiet laugh.
"Yes."
The world tilted.
"She was…"
Another pause.
"…my aunt."
"…Oh my God."
Something inside me broke.
Completely.
Before I could react—
he grabbed me.
Threw me to the ground.
My head hit hard.
White.
For a second—
there was nothing.
Then sound returned.
Footsteps.
The door opening.
He stopped.
Without turning—
he spoke.
"Enjoy yourself."
Too calm.
"This is your last day of freedom…"
A pause.
"…before we begin."
"What?!" I screamed."What does that mean?!"
He turned slightly.
Just enough.
"Wait and see."
And then—
he was gone.
I forced myself up.
Ran after him.
"WAIT!"
The street—
Empty.
Completely empty.
Like he had never been there.
"Last day of freedom…"
I whispered.
A sick feeling spread inside me.
"He's going to report me…"
A broken laugh escaped.
"Of course he is…"
I went back inside.
Locked the door.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Still…
it didn't help.
Something felt wrong.
Like I wasn't alone.
I stepped into the bathroom.
Turned on the water.
Hot.
Too hot.
But I didn't move.
I was trying to wash something off…
Something that wouldn't come off.
"Today was supposed to be my graduation day…"
A hollow laugh.
"Meeting an old friend…"
I looked at my reflection.
"…What the hell happened to my life?"
I waited.
The phone in front of me.
Silence.
But it wasn't silence.
There were sounds.
Or maybe…
it was just my mind breaking.
Every movement—
footsteps.
Every shadow—
watching.
I couldn't turn on the light.
The dark felt safer.
Eventually…
my body gave up.
I lay on the floor.
And slept.
Or…
something close to it.
It wasn't sleep.
It was a trap.
Every time I closed my eyes—
fragments.
Blurred faces.
Broken images.
Whispers.
Screams—
distant.
Muted.
Then silence.
Morning came.
I woke up gasping.
My body—
heavy.
Drained.
"…Morning?"
Something was wrong.
Slowly…
I looked around.
I wasn't on the floor.
I was—
in the bed.