Kingdom Come (Book 1)

Chapter Three:

Alice jolted awake, a gasp caught in her throat. Her chest felt crushed, as if someone's combat boot bore down on her ribcage, forcing the air from her lungs. Sweat slicked her skin, her pillow damp beneath her cheek. Her swollen, aching eyes hinted at hours spent crying. She turned on her side, fumbling for her phone on the nightstand. Its harsh glow pierced the darkness. "Four in the morning? Ugh," she muttered, her voice raw. She sighed and swung her legs off the bed, seeking solace in the living room.

The house was eerily still. Only the fire whispered, its soft crackle keeping the cold at bay. Shadows stretched across the walls, weaving through the glow of the kitchen light. The familiar faces in the framed photos seemed to watch her, their eyes catching the dim flicker and holding her captive. She shivered, both from the chill and the unsettling stillness.

Grabbing a blanket from the cupboard, she curled onto the sofa, pulling the edges of the fleece tight around her shoulders. The TV flickered to life, its monotone voice recounting the grim state of current events—wars, devastation, upheaval. Yet her focus wavered. Beyond the walls of her house, something stirred. The neighbor's porch light blazed, illuminating three figures despite the freezing temperatures.

One man drew her attention. He stood at the center, larger than the others, swathed in a black leather jacket that creaked with each measured movement. He was taller than her by several feet, his presence vast and heavy, commanding. His broad shoulders carried an unsettling weight, his stance both casual and deliberate. The man radiated power.

She edged toward the window, her curiosity pulling her closer, though her instincts screamed to stay back. The faint laughter drifting across the road. Her heart thudded as his head turned. His gaze, sharp and deliberate as he ran his hand through his dark hair, found her window. Her stomach dropped. For a fleeting moment, she felt his stare—calm, confident, and unsettlingly aware.

His lips curved, the faintest smile. He looked familiar but she couldn't place it. Alice stumbled backward, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. As another figure emerged from a car pulling up to the curb, the group—now four—disappeared inside the rented house. Its bright red "Rented" sticker on the sign glared like a warning in the icy wind.

Alice returned to her room, her steps faltering under the weight of unease. With the blanket wrapped tight around her, she dropped onto the bed and shut her eyes. But the tall man's piercing gaze refused to leave her mind, lingering in the shadows.

*****

Alice woke up again to the sound of her alarm. Seven am. She stared at her ceiling for five minutes before she rolled out of bed, trying to pluck up the courage to get ready for school.

Alice secretly thanked god it was Tuesday, the day before Thanksgiving break as she made her bed, the pillows tear stained.

Alice looked at herself in the mirror, studying the features that had often drawn comparisons to her mother. She could see it clearly now—the pale skin, the long, brown hair cascading down her waist, the way her slender frame mirrored her mother's build. She hated being reminded. Her eyes, though, stood apart. The green was particularly striking, almost out of place. They were something she must have inherited from her father, as her mother's side only had shades of blue or brown.

She reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she noticed the stillness of the room. The quiet surrounded her. She looked at herself again, tilting her head slightly. Shaking her sadness off,  Alice quickly dressed, - she went for jeans and a simple long sleeve black shirt with her jacket. She even managed to slide on a few thin rings of turquoise, onyx and silver to complete the look.

She then moved closer to her mirror again, putting on a little foundation and blush to hide the puffiness of grief, swooping a little, matte taupe eyeshadow over her eyelids.