Aaira's life takes a chilling turn when she discovers an enigmatic stalker who loves her unconditionally, blurring the line between affection and obsession. As she navigates this twisted relationship, the novel explores the dark corners of love, fea...
“I told you, babe, to keep your distance from him, didn’t I?”
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Aaira’s breathing was erratic as she stumbled toward the mirror again, her trembling fingers smudging the dripping letters, trying desperately to erase the haunting message. The faint scent of iron lingered in the air, amplifying her terror. Her clothes, soaked in a pinkish hue from the water mixing with whatever substance clung to her, clung to her skin like a suffocating second layer. Her reflection stared back at her, distorted and miserable, a shell of the composed woman she tried so hard to be.
She forced herself to look away, staggering to the closet. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she yanked the doors open, pulling out a clean towel and a set of fresh clothes. But before she could even change, a faint knock echoed through the room. The sound sent her heart racing, her pulse pounding in her ears.
*Knock-knock-knock.*
The sound was slow, deliberate, and far too ominous for her liking.
Aaira froze, clutching the towel tightly to her chest. She glanced at the door, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. *Was it him?*
The knocking persisted, louder this time. Summoning every ounce of courage she had left, she tiptoed to the door, her bare feet cold against the tiled floor. Peering through the peephole, she saw nothing but the dimly lit corridor outside.
Aaira: “Who’s there?”
She called out, her voice shaking. There was no response, only silence. She waited, her body tense and ready to bolt at the slightest sound. When nothing happened, she slowly backed away from the door, her eyes darting around the room for anything she could use as a weapon. She quickly wore a hoodie and a trouser.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated on the bedside table, its screen glowing faintly in the dark. Aaira flinched at the sudden noise, but she quickly grabbed the device. The caller ID was blocked. Her fingers hovered over the screen as a familiar sense of dread washed over her. *Should I answer?* she thought.
The phone buzzed again, insistent and unyielding. Against her better judgment, she swiped to answer and held the phone to her ear, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aaira: “Hello?”
A moment of silence stretched into eternity before a low, raspy voice spoke.
Unknown: “You look beautiful in red.”
Aaira’s stomach dropped, and the phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor. Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the ground, clutching her knees as tears streamed down her face. The words echoed in her mind, drowning out all rational thought.
*He’s here. He’s watching me.*
With shaking hands, she scrambled to pick up the phone and block the number, but her screen displayed a chilling new notification:
