The Eyes On Me

Chapter 13: Fractured Mirrors

The silence that followed Zane’s departure felt deafening. His presence had always been magnetic, drawing me into a world I didn’t fully understand, but without him, I was left with the pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t solve alone. The weight of his words still lingered in the air:

“They’ll do whatever it takes to control you.”

I stood by the window, watching the rain streak down the glass in thin, shimmering lines. It was dark outside—darker than usual, or maybe it just felt that way.

The sky reflected the storm brewing inside me. I could still feel Zane’s touch on my skin, his promise of protection ringing in my ears, but I couldn’t help but wonder how much more I could take.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, trying to steady my thoughts. The journal lay on the table behind me, unopened, its secrets still waiting to be uncovered. But there was something about it that unnerved me now, something I couldn’t quite place.

The more I read, the closer I got to whatever darkness had ensnared my family—and me.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. My heart lurched, instinctively bracing for the worst.

But I wasn’t ready for another encounter, wasn’t ready for more mystery, more shadows.

Cautiously, I approached the door, peering through the peephole. No one.

I exhaled shakily, but as I turned away, a flicker of movement caught my eye through the window.

There, across the street, stood a figure—tall, unmoving, bathed in the faint glow of the streetlight. I couldn’t make out his face, but I knew who it was.

The stalker.

My breath caught in my throat. I stepped back, feeling a cold rush of fear slither down my spine. His presence felt different tonight—more deliberate, more intense. For the briefest moment, I could almost feel his gaze locking onto mine through the glass.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and dialed Zane. My fingers trembled as I pressed the phone to my ear, listening to the rings stretch out, each one longer than the last.

When his voicemail clicked on, dread pooled in my stomach.

I needed Zane here. Now.

I moved away from the window, pacing the room as my mind raced. The man outside didn’t leave—he stood there, as if waiting for something.

Waiting for me.

The journal called out to me from the table, its pages filled with cryptic entries and unsettling truths. I didn’t want to open it, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed answers.

With shaking hands, I flipped it open to where I had last left off, scanning my grandmother’s writing, searching for something—anything—that could help me understand why this was happening.

And then, something caught my eye. A passage I hadn’t noticed before, written in a shaky scrawl that looked like it had been scribbled in a hurry:

He’s always watching. Always. The shadows follow wherever I go. He knows everything—what I fear, what I desire. I can feel him drawing closer every day, and I’m powerless to stop it. He’s already won.

The words sent a chill through me. My grandmother had felt the same fear, the same looming presence. She had been haunted by someone—someone who knew too much, someone who controlled her from the shadows. Just like me.

I heard the door creak.

My heart stilled in my chest. I hadn’t locked it after Zane left. Slowly, I turned toward the sound, my pulse racing, every nerve in my body on high alert.

The door opened slightly, just a sliver of darkness beyond. My breath hitched, and for a moment

I thought I saw a hand resting on the edge of the doorframe. But when I blinked, it was gone.

"Who's there?" My voice trembled as I called out.

No response. Only silence.

I took a step forward, my body taut with fear. Another step. The door inched open just a little more. I felt frozen, caught between my instincts to run and the overwhelming need to know who was on the other side.

Suddenly, the door swung open fully, revealing no one.

The hallway was empty.

I took a hesitant step toward the door, feeling the weight of unseen eyes on me, the same eyes that had been watching from across the street. I could almost feel him in the air around me—the stalker, the man who had been silently intruding into every corner of my life.

Before I could take another step, my phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me. A message flashed across the screen from an unknown number:

*“Come outside, Emilia. I won’t hurt you.”*

My blood ran cold. I dropped the phone, backing away from the open door. I wanted to scream, wanted to run, but my body refused to move. The words echoed in my mind: *I won’t hurt you.* But why did they feel like a threat?

The rain outside grew heavier, the sound of it pounding against the window like the heartbeat of the night. I was trapped—trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape.

And then, I saw him again.

The figure from across the street was now standing right in front of my door.

This time, there was no mistaking the intent in his posture, no denying the silent promise in the way he stood there, waiting. His face was still shadowed, but I could sense the pull he had on me, the dark, magnetic allure that sent shivers through my veins.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t call Zane. I couldn’t stay here, and I couldn’t face him alone. My heart raced, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I stood frozen in place, knowing I was about to be forced into a choice I wasn’t ready to make.

The stalker took a step closer, his figure now only feet from me.

I gripped the edge of the door, my hands trembling as I stared into the darkness that had become my life.

And then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he spoke.

"Emilia... it’s time you knew the truth."