Vanished

Unseen Threat

Chapter 8: Unseen Threat

The world felt quieter in her new apartment. She’d chosen it for its distance from the chaos of her old life and her desire to start fresh. She loved how it sat at the edge of the city, bordering a stretch of trees that cut it off from the bustling streets. For the first few days, it had been peaceful – almost soothing. Skylar had started to feel like she could breathe again.But then the gifts started to appear.The first one was simple enough: a small bouquet of daisies resting on her doorstep. They were freshly picked, their stems still damp with morning dew. At first, Skylar thought maybe they were from a neighbor, a friendly welcome gesture. But as she looked closer, she noticed there was no card, no indication of who might have left them.She shrugged it off, deciding it wasn’t worth worrying about. She brought the flowers inside, placing them in a jar with water. They brightened up her small kitchen table, and for a moment, she felt a bit of warmth, imagining someone kind enough to leave them.But then it happened again.This time, it was a small box, wrapped carefully in dark red paper and tied with a golden ribbon. It sat in the exact spot where the daises had been, waiting for her as she unlocked the door after work. A chill ran down her spine as she knelt to pick it up, wondering who would be leaving her gifts like this, especially someone who could know her precise schedule.Inside the box was a beautiful bracelet she admired while passing through a jewelry store and a carefully carved wooden music box. She lifted the lid, and a soft, haunting melody filled the room. It was strange – eerie yet captivating. She found herself drawn to it, the delicate tune filling the otherwise silent room.She kept it on the kitchen counter, but over the following days, the melody seemed to linger in her mind long after she closed the box. Something about the tune felt familiar, almost as if it were mocking her. At night, she’d hear it echoing faintly in her dreams, her mind unable to let go of the melody.The gifts continued to come, each one stranger than the last. Some were beautiful, almost thoughtful in their own way, like the hand-knitted scarf in her favorite shade of green or the lavender-scented candles that seemed almost custom-made for her tastes. She’d take each one inside, unsure whether to appreciate them or to be unnerved.But other gifts… they felt darker.One evening, she came home to find a small, porcelain doll sitting on her doorstep. Its glossy black eyes seemed to watch her as she bent down to pick it up. The doll's eyes were open widely, as if watching her . The longer she stared at it, the more the doll seemed to fill her with a sense of foreboding. It was a strange gift, one that felt more like an omen than a token of kindness. She placed it by the window, hoping the morning light would chase away the unease it gave her.A few days later, she found a single black feather, long and glossy, resting on her doorstep. She knew it could’ve been a coincidence – maybe it had just blown there in the wind – but something about it felt deliberate. And then the notes began.At first, they were just odd phrases scrawled on slips of paper. She’d find them tucked under her doormat or slipped between her door and the frame. The handwriting was messy, as if written in a hurry. The first note simply said, “Do you see me?” It sent a shiver down her spine, and she spent hours wondering if it was some sort of joke or if it was meant for someone else.But then came another, more unsettling: “I’ve been watching you.”She tried to dismiss it, telling herself it was probably a prank. But the thought that someone could be watching her, could know where she lived, left her feeling vulnerable in a way she couldn’t shake. She started glancing over her shoulder when she walked to her car, checking the windows before going to bed at night. The cozy apartment she’d chosen for its peaceful solitude now felt like a cage.The next gift was different. It was a small, antique-looking mirror, the kind you’d see in a Victorian portrait. When she picked it up, she noticed a faint scratch along the edge of the glass, like someone had run a knife across it. As she stared at her reflection, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. There was something unsettling about it, as if the mirror were holding a secret.Then, one morning, a note was left with another bouquet of flowers, only this time, the petals were wilted and dark, almost blackened. The note simply read, “Remember me?”A chill ran down her spine as she held the crumpled paper, a feeling of dread creeping over her. Remember? Was it someone from her past, someone who held a grudge? She didn’t want to think of who it might be, didn’t want to believe someone could hate her enough to torment her like this. She tried to brush it off, tried to tell herself it was just a coincidence.But the messages kept coming.“You can’t hide forever,” one of them read, scrawled in jagged, looping handwriting. Skylar’s hands trembled as she read it, her mind racing with questions. She felt watched, hunted even, by an invisible presence.One night, after tossing and turning in bed, she decided to confront her fear. She pulled on her jacket, marched to the front door, and swung it open, stepping outside into the cool night air. She stood there, scanning the darkened street, waiting for any sign of movement. But the street was quiet, empty. She felt foolish standing there, daring someone – anyone – to show themselves.Then, she noticed a faint rustling sound by her feet. She looked down and saw another note, tucked carefully under her doormat. She knelt to pick it up, her fingers shaking as she unfolded it.“Soon.”Just one word. But it felt like a promise, a chilling warning that made her blood run cold. She slammed the door shut, locking it and checking the deadbolt three times before retreating to her bedroom. The darkness felt suffocating, closing in around her as she sat on the edge of her bed, clutching the note in her hands.The next morning, she found a final gift waiting for her on the doorstep: a small, white box with a red ribbon. She felt a knot form in her stomach as she reached for it, her hands trembling. She unwrapped it slowly, dreading what might be inside.The lid lifted, revealing a small, delicate pendant in the shape of a heart. For a moment, she felt a flicker of warmth, a memory of a time when gifts were given out of love. But as she picked up the pendant, she noticed something else beneath it: another note, folded neatly at the bottom of the box.She unfolded it, her heart pounding as she read the words.“Your heart is mine. I’ll be seeing you soon.”She dropped the note, her mind spinning with fear. She didn’t know who was doing this, didn’t know what they wanted or how far they would go. But one thing was clear – someone was watching her, waiting, and they weren’t going to stop.From that day on, every shadow felt like a threat, every whisper like a warning. Skylar knew she couldn’t ignore it anymore. This wasn’t just someone playing games. This was a real, unseen threat, one that had her trapped in a nightmare with no way out.