Ghost Behind You

1.28. The Journal (1)

The pain from the mark on Rose's arm was so intense that she couldn't hear the conversation between Zach and Lana. Her focus was entirely on enduring the knife-like agony, doing everything she could not to make a sound. It wasn't until Zach pulled the blanket off her and helped her up that she realized Lana's ghost was gone. The pain had started to subside, and the lights in the room were now on.

Tears and snot streaked Rose's face, leaving her a mess. Though she had wiped most of it on the blanket, the sight still made Zach chuckle. He quickly grabbed some tissues and gently wiped her face, reassuring her, "Look, the mark is gone."

"What? Gone?" Rose finally noticed the mark had vanished. She inspected her arms and other parts of her body where the marks had been. They were all gone, her skin smooth and pale once again. Relief and surprise washed over her. "What did you say to Lana? Did she let me go?"

"Yes, she agreed to spare you, but on one condition—I have to bring her the killer within a week." Zach lifted his right hand. "See? The mark is on me now."

"The mark's on you?" Rose grabbed his hand, her face a mix of confusion and concern. "How did that happen?"

"It was part of the deal. The mark is proof."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Rose suddenly shouted, anger flaring in her voice. "Why would you agree to that? If we don't find the killer in a week, you could die, right?"

"Yes," Zach replied calmly.

Rose was stunned, speechless. She hadn't expected Zach to go to such extremes. He had saved her again, but at the cost of putting himself in grave danger.

"Alright, enough of that. I'm confident we'll find Lana's body within a week, and once we do, this will all be over." Zach patted Rose's shoulder in reassurance. "There's no need to worry."

Tears welled up in Rose's eyes again, but this time she couldn't bring herself to speak. She just stared at Zach, her mind racing with emotions.

"No more crying," Zach said, half-joking. "Crying won't solve anything. Lana gave us a clue."

Rose realized now wasn't the time to wallow in fear or sadness. Hastily wiping her tears with her hands, she rasped, "What clue did she give you?"

"It wasn't very direct," Zach said with a slight frown. "Lana mentioned that she left some belongings here when she stayed—including a journal."

"Would the killer have left such things behind?" Rose asked, skeptical.

"She said the killer didn't have time to destroy them."

"Did she tell you where they are?" Rose pressed.

"I saw a vision—a filthy, cluttered room. But I'm not sure which room in the hotel it is."

A flash of recognition hit Rose. She remembered the small storage shed they had visited earlier. After thinking for a moment, she said, "I know where that room is. You made a bad trade."

"What do you mean? Do you know where the journal is?"

"This afternoon, when I went to the storage shed to find the registry, I saw a ghost standing on a travel bag. I'd seen that bag before in a dream, but I didn't realize it was a clue at the time. I didn't know whose bag it was, but now I think it's Lana's."

Zach groaned, running his hand through his hair. "Damn, I made a bad deal then. How was I supposed to know you'd seen the bag in a dream? You never mentioned it!"

"I didn't know whose bag it was. I was too focused on the burial site in the dream—I thought the bag belonged to the killer."

"Alright, alright, let's go get the bag then," Zach said, standing up.

"Now?" Rose asked, glancing nervously at the darkness outside the window.

"I'll go myself. I know where the shed is," Zach replied, looking around for a flashlight.

"You're leaving me here alone?" Rose asked, suddenly feeling lost as Zach moved around the room, preparing to leave. "What if something comes after me again?"

"Lana's already let you go, so you're safe now," Zach said, gathering his things. "Stay here, and don't worry."

Rose hugged her arms to her chest, her mind in turmoil. She wasn't sure why she was so afraid—whether it was the thought of being alone in the empty room or the idea of going to that dark, abandoned shed. All she wanted was for Zach to stay with her, to wait until tomorrow to deal with everything.

But the tables had turned. The one tormented by the mark was no longer Rose—it was Zach. He could have avoided this whole mess if it weren't for his concern for her. He probably wouldn't have made the deal with Lana if it hadn't been for her impending danger.

"Fine, go quickly and be safe," Rose said softly, handing Zach her protective amulet. "Take this. I probably don't need it anymore."

Zach accepted the amulet silently, giving her a reassuring smile before leaving the room. Once the door shut, Rose couldn't even hear his footsteps.

Sitting on the bed, Rose tried to keep herself busy while waiting for Zach. It was already 1 a.m., but she didn't feel tired. She racked her brain, trying to recall any more useful details from her dream. She began sketching the forest clearing from memory in her notebook, cursing the difficulty of drawing with just a pen. She vowed to bring proper drawing tools next time.

When she finally looked up, she was startled to see someone standing at the foot of her bed. Her heart skipped a beat, and she jumped in shock. But as her eyes adjusted, she realized it was Mary.

"What are you doing here? You haven't left for Beijing yet?" Rose asked, her heart still pounding. "You scared me half to death."

Mary was wearing only a nightgown, standing silently at the foot of the bed. Her left arm hung limp by her side, and her right hand was hidden behind her back. Her expression was blank, her wide, unblinking eyes locked on Rose. Something about her stare sent a chill through Rose—it wasn't how Mary usually looked at her.

"What's wrong with you?" Rose asked, moving toward her. "How did you know I was here? Say something!"

Suddenly, a strong scent of blood filled Rose's senses, though it didn't seem real—like the metallic tang was only in her mind. Rose froze, realizing the Mary in front of her wasn't acting normally. This wasn't just sleepless wandering—something was very wrong. There was no way Mary would be standing here like this in the middle of the night, as still and silent as a ghost.

As Rose looked closer, she noticed the eerie detail that made everything worse: Mary's eyes. Her irises were completely black—there was no white left at all.