Eight boys walk into a nightmare. The killer is hunting them. The mystery is trapping them. But the real danger isn't the monster hiding in the shadows... it's the boy sleeping next to them.
When the world turns upside down, survival requires a sacr...
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"Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?"
Sooo.... here's the new chapter I promised!
// This is Chapter 5. Read this only if you have read "Chasing That Feeling"
2: 00 am
The accident scene was a wreck of twisted metal and shattered glass, spread across the middle of the dimly lit road. The remnants of the crash stretched across two lanes, cordoned off by harshly bright police tape that fluttered in the cold night wind. A single streetlight cast a pale, ghostly glow over the scene, its light catching on the slick of spilled oil shimmering in a dark, rainbow stain across the asphalt.
The car at the back was the most damaged, its front end a crumpled mess from where it had slammed into the car in front. The windshield was fractured, spiderwebbed with impact cracks, and inside, the driver-a young man, his face pale and unmoving-lay slumped back in his seat. His body was eerily still, his head tilted at an unnatural angle, suggesting that the violent collision had taken his life instantly. Glass from the shattered window sparkled like deadly jewels across the dashboard and seats, giving a chilling contrast to the stillness within.
In front of his vehicle was another car, wedged tightly between his and a large, battered truck at the head of the crash. The impact had caused a chain reaction; the force had pushed the middle car into the back of the truck, the rear crumpled and the front pressed awkwardly into the truck's bumper, which had bent under the strain. The truck itself bore scars from the collision-a dented bumper and fractured taillights-but it was built to withstand such impacts, and it stood largely unaffected, a silent witness to the destruction it had unwittingly caused.
Police officers moved carefully around the scene, their flashlights sweeping through the wreckage as they documented the aftermath. The cold air held a tense stillness, broken only by the low murmurs of officers coordinating and discussing their findings. One officer was taking photographs, capturing every grim detail, from the tire marks that cut dark lines across the road to the shattered glass littering the ground. Another officer bent down beside the victim's car, noting down observations on a small notepad, occasionally pausing to confer with a colleague as they reviewed the scene.
Felix practically sprinted down the hospital corridor, his heart pounding with worry. His footsteps echoed loudly against the sterile, white-tiled floor, and each step felt like it brought him closer to relief or devastation. He burst through the door he'd been desperate to find and made a beeline toward the bed, where Chan sat, covered in bruises and small cuts that marred his face. Without a moment's hesitation, Felix threw his arms around Chan, hugging him as though he could shield him from any more harm.
Chan's face tightened from the pain as Felix hugged him but softened quickly. He knew how much the other needed this hug, how it grounded him. Gently, he wrapped his arms around Felix, nestling his face against Felix's neck, letting the embrace calm both their fears.
