WITCH - ARA

Nineteen

After the incident with Keith, I reach home, Ava and I were having a sleepover today trying to comfort ourselves, y'know? and I'm planning to tell her the truth about me being a witch just like Keith said

I sit next to Ava on the porch, the evening air thick with secrets I’ve kept for far too long. My heart races as I prepare to tell her the truth.

“Ava, there’s something I need to—”

“Hey, could you grab me a bottle of water from inside?” Ava interrupts, smiling as if the world hasn’t just shifted under my feet. I freeze, caught between relief and frustration.

“Yeah, sure,” I mumble, standing up.

The house is dark, almost too dark for comfort. I step inside, feeling the weight of the silence, the way it wraps around me like a cold, unseen hand. The shadows stretch and bend across the floor, the kind that make you question if you're really alone.

I head toward the kitchen, every creak of the floorboards unnerving in the stillness. I flip the light switch, but nothing happens. Of course. My heart begins to pound harder in my chest, the darkness thickening, swallowing me whole. The fridge hums ominously as I open it, the soft light barely reaching the edges of the room.

Something in the corner shifts.

I freeze, breath catching in my throat, but it’s only my reflection in the window. Or is it? For a moment, I swear the shadow in the window isn’t moving in sync with me. I stare at it, my eyes wide, my hand trembling on the bottle.

“Get it together, Blaze,” I mutter, grabbing the bottle and turning to leave.

---

Third-Person POV

A man stands on the roof of the house across the street, eyes fixed on the two girls sitting outside just moments ago. He taps his earbud, listening to the voice on the other end of the call.

“The girl in the pink pajamas,” the voice repeats.

He watches Blaze disappear into the house, leaving Ava alone. “Got it, boss,” he says, eyes narrowing as he focuses on his target.

The man descends into the shadows, moving with silent purpose.

Back to Blaze's POV

I step back outside, holding the bottle, but Ava’s gone. The porch is empty. My chest tightens.

“Ava?” I call out, my voice cracking.

Nothing. The bottle slips from my hand, hitting the ground with a hollow thud. The air feels thick, and before I can process the fear creeping through me, a piercing scream erupts from inside the house. The sound is sharp, inhuman, ripping through the silence.

My legs tremble, my instincts screaming at me to run, but instead, I stumble back inside.

The darkness greets me like an old friend, swallowing me whole. My heart races as I scan the room. And then I see her. Crawling on the ceiling.

A woman—no, a thing, with long, matted hair covering its face, its body hidden in the shadows, naked but obscured by the darkness. The way it moves sends a jolt of terror through me, like something out of a nightmare.

It’s not human. It can’t be.

Before I can scream, the figure leaps down from the ceiling with unnatural speed, landing on top of me, knocking the breath from my lungs as I fall to the floor.

The darkness closes in.