Secrets

Chapter 8 - Been Watch

Mia blinked her eyes open, her vision blurred and unfocused. The dark ceiling above her came into view, unfamiliar and oppressive.

Her head throbbed as she slowly sat up, groaning at the dull, relentless pounding in her skull. She winced, rubbing her temple, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The room felt stifling, the air heavy and thick.

Dragging herself to her feet, Mia stumbled toward the balcony in her room, pulling the curtain aside to peer outside. The warm hues of a setting sun spilled into the room, bathing everything in an eerie orange glow. The sun's already going down? How long was I asleep?

The house was silent, too silent, the kind of quiet that made her ears strain for any sound at all. She froze mid-step, her gut tightening with unease. Something was wrong.

She moved cautiously, glancing around her room. It didn't take long for her suspicions to solidify. Things weren't where she'd left them—her phone wasn't on her nightstand, her chair was slightly askew, and the blanket at the foot of her bed was crumpled, as if someone had touched it.

Mia's pulse quickened. Someone's been here.

Forcing herself to breathe, she shook her head. Eliza. It had to be Eliza. She vaguely remembered being brought home earlier. That made sense, didn't it?

Trying to dismiss the uneasy feeling clawing at her, she turned back toward the balcony window—and froze.

Her eyes caught on the balcony door. The curtain fluttered lazily in the breeze, the door slightly ajar. And standing there, silhouetted against the fiery sunset, was a shadow—a figure.

Mia's stomach plummeted. She blinked, her breath catching, her body frozen in place. The figure was humanoid, but something about it was off. Its shape was wrong, warped. Dark protrusions extended from its back, jagged and unnatural, as if they were straining to break free from its body.

Her gaze traveled upward, and then she saw them—the eyes. Two pinpoints of crimson light, staring at her unblinkingly through the dimness.

The sunlight behind it made it impossible to see any other features, the figure shrouded in darkness. But those eyes burned into her, their intensity cutting through the haze in her mind like a knife.

Mia's heart thundered in her chest. She couldn't move, couldn't even look away. The figure didn't shift, didn't breathe—it just watched.

Her fingers twitched at her side, every nerve screaming at her to run, but her body refused to obey.

The wind stirred again, brushing the curtain across the figure's form, distorting its already unnatural shape. A cold dread seeped into her veins, rooting her in place.

And then—

"Oh, you're awake."

The voice shattered the oppressive silence, jolting Mia so violently that she stumbled back, her hand flying to her chest.

She whirled around to see Eliza standing in the doorway, her expression relaxed, though it quickly shifted to confusion at Mia's panicked state.

"Are you alright?" Eliza asked, her tone edged with concern as she stepped closer. "What's wrong?"

Mia's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her mind was racing, the image of the shadow still seared into her vision. She turned back to the balcony, lifting a trembling hand to point.

But it was gone.

The door was closed, the curtain still, as if nothing had been there at all.

Mia stared, her breath hitching, her pulse roaring in her ears. She scanned the balcony, her eyes darting to every corner, but there was nothing. Just the dim glow of the fading sunset and the quiet hum of the breeze.