Phantom ~ [Simon Ghost Riley]

XXI. An unfamiliar bed

I stumble backward, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the couch right before I flip around to grab my phone. I frantically search for his number. At this moment, I don't know who else to call. He's the only one who knows where I live.

"What's wrong?" he asks as if he knows already.

"Simon, I need your help. Please," I whisper, keeping my voice down so as to not alert the person outside of my apartment.

"Where are you?" He rasps.

"Home," I breathe. "Please hurry. I don't know what to do. Something weird is going on. I think there's someone outside my apartment."

"I'm on my way. Do you have your gun somewhere?"

"I think so," I whisper. "I can't talk. I don't want them to hear me."

"Put the phone down, but don't hang up. Grab your gun and hide somewhere safe. I'll be there soon, I promise."

I do as I'm told and put my phone on the couch. Then, I head over to my bedroom and grab my gun from underneath my nightstand. I check if it's loaded, which it is, and head back over to the living room. I get behind the couch so that I can hear whatever the person is doing. I make sure Bagel is near me and pull her behind the couch as well.

My mind races with possibilities. Is it a burglar trying to break in? A stalker? A kid who's pulling some sick joke? The fact that it's right after the anonymous phone call rubs me the wrong way. Whatever the case, I'm not going to take any chances. I clutch my gun tightly, feeling its weight and the cold metal against my palm.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I try to control my breathing, but my nerves are on edge. I feel like my body is buzzing with nervous energy, and every small sound makes me jump.

I had always thought of myself as a strong and independent woman, but at this moment, I feel helpless and vulnerable. I wonder if I had made a mistake by choosing to live alone, if I should have found a roommate or moved in with someone else.

But then, another thought crosses my mind: I refuse to let anyone invade my home and my sense of security. I'm not going to let fear control me. I stand up straighter, taking in a deep breath, and summon all the courage I can muster.

I keep my position, pointing my gun at the door. Ready to start shooting if I have to. The person outside starts with another knock, still trying to get in. But now, I'm ready for them.

Right as I get ready to shoot, the knocking stops. There is a moment of silence, and then I hear a faint whispering on the other side of the door. I can't make out what was being said, but it sends a cold chill down my spine.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Should I call the police? Should I confront the person myself? The other side of the door is left in complete silence. No footsteps, no whispers, no knocking.

Nothing.

I hold my breath, waiting for something to jump out or anything at all. It's like waiting for some bad horror movie jump scare. Cheap, and predictable. Though nothing happens.

I wait for another minute and suddenly the sound of footsteps is back. A loud thump sounds against my door before the door barges open. I immediately point my gun in the direction of my door, my finger lingering on the trigger when I realize it's him.

"Ace," He sounds out of breath. "What happened?" He stands in my doorway with a piece of paper in his hand. He crumbles it before I can see it and slips it into one of his pockets.

"Someone was here," I say, realizing I'm way more out of breath than I thought I was. "I swear. Someone- was."

"I believe you," he comes closer to me and places a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"