𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒

Ep 2. The Stranger's Secrets

I stood in front of my house, the night's events replaying in my mind like a broken record. My hand tingled where he had grabbed me, but I still didn't even know his name.

The darkness had swallowed him up when I walked away from his house—if it was even his house. I didn't know what to think anymore. His sudden shift from mysterious to dangerous kept gnawing at me, and now, standing here in front of my locked door at 2 AM, I felt more confused than ever.

I sighed, frustrated. Why did I even follow him?

Realizing that I still had no way inside, I moved to the side of the house. The garage. There was always the garage. Its side door had been broken for months—my dad never got around to fixing it. I tugged on the handle, and sure enough, after a few firm tugs, it gave way, letting me slip inside.

Inside the garage, I reached for the spare key we always kept on the tool shelf. After fumbling for it in the dark, I unlocked the door and stepped quietly into the house. The warmth hit me like a soft blanket, and the familiar sounds of the refrigerator humming and the distant creak of floorboards helped settle my nerves a bit.

Upstairs, everything was silent. No one had woken up. I crept back to my room and flopped onto my bed, heart still pounding, mind still spinning.

What the hell just happened?

I stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything. The boy—his intense stare, his cryptic words—none of it made any sense. I had never seen him before last night, yet he felt familiar in a strange, unsettling way. And then the warning: "It's not safe for you here." What did that even mean?

Sleep was impossible. I tossed and turned, my thoughts circling back to him—the stranger.

Morning After

When the first rays of sunlight streamed through my curtains, I was still wide awake. The restlessness from last night had lingered through the early hours, and by the time morning came, I knew there was no escaping it. I had questions, and I needed answers.

But where do I even start?

I didn't even know his name. All I had was the memory of those stormy eyes, his cold touch, and the strange feeling that he wasn't telling me everything. No one just says something like, "It's not safe for you here" without knowing exactly what they mean.

By mid-afternoon, curiosity got the better of me. Before I could talk myself out of it, I found myself walking back toward his house. It wasn't far, just a few doors down. In the daylight, it looked... normal. Too normal. The kind of modern house that you see in every new neighborhood. But I knew better. There was something off about it. Something off about him.

I reached the front door and hesitated. What am I even going to say?

I raised my hand to knock but stopped short. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should just walk away and pretend none of this happened.

But before I could decide, the door swung open.

It was him.

The same boy from last night stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. He wasn't surprised to see me, but there was something in the way he looked at me—like he had been expecting this.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was measuring his words.

"I need to know," I said, my own voice more confident than I felt. "What happened last night? And why did you tell me to leave?"

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes scanning my face as if searching for something. He stepped outside, pulling the door halfway shut behind him. He didn't want me to see inside.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice low. "I told you—it's not safe."

"Why?" I demanded. "You can't just say that and then push me away. What's going on?"

He glanced around the street, checking to see if anyone was watching. His posture shifted, his body tense like he was ready for something—something I couldn't see.

"You don't understand," he said quietly, taking a step closer to me. "This place... it's not what you think. And you, you're better off not knowing."

My heart pounded in my chest. "Better off not knowing what?"

He paused, clearly debating whether to say more, and then shook his head. "You shouldn't have followed me here. You need to leave. Now."

I stood my ground, frustration bubbling up. "I don't even know your name. And last night, you practically threw me out of your house. What's going on? What are you hiding?"

His jaw clenched, and for the first time, I saw something like guilt flicker across his face. He looked away, his eyes scanning the empty street before turning back to me.

"My name... it doesn't matter," he said, his voice cold. "What matters is that you stay away from here."

I frowned, feeling my irritation spike. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on. Why did you say I'm not safe?"

He looked at me, his eyes darkening with something I couldn't place—fear? Anger? Maybe both.

"It's not about you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's this town. This place. It draws people in, but it doesn't let them go. And if you keep digging, you're going to regret it."

A chill ran down my spine. There was something in his voice—something real. But before I could ask more, the door behind him creaked, and his expression shifted from warning to panic.

"Go," he said, stepping back toward the door. "Now."

Before I could protest, the door slammed shut, and I was left standing in the cold afternoon air, alone again. I stared at the house, my heart racing.

I didn't know his name. I didn't know what he was hiding. But I knew one thing: something was very, very wrong.

And whatever it was, I had just stepped right into the middle of it.

To be continued...
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THANKS AGAIN FOR READING EPISODE 2!!

I REALLY WANTED LUCIAN TO BE
MYSTERIOUS.

WHAT ARE YOUR PREDICTIONS ABOUT HIM SO FAR?👀