Chapter 58 Requiem for Hallie
Hallie stared at the red dress; her fingers curled tightly around the small white card. The words on it seemed to burn into her mind—Wear this tonight. It's time to settle unfinished business.
Her heartbeat hammered against her ribs. Who the hell sent this? And why? Her first instinct was to toss the whole thing in the trash, but she hesitated. The dress was gorgeous, expensive, tailored to perfection. Someone had gone through a lot of effort to make sure it ended up at her door.
The thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. Maybe this was some over-the-top stunt by Ryder. A poor attempt at romance after ignoring her all day. But even as she entertained the thought, she knew better. Ryder wasn't this cryptic—he was lazy, inconsiderate, and about as deep as a puddle. This wasn't his style.
Another possibility slithered into her mind; one she didn't want to linger on.
What if this has nothing to do with Ryder?
A chill crept up her spine, and she hugged her arms around herself. No. She wasn't going to let some anonymous gift get into her head. If someone thought they could intimidate her, they were dead wrong. She'd just...ignore it. Yes, that's what she would do. She'd forget about the stupid dress and move on with her day.
As if the universe had been waiting for her to make that decision, her phone vibrated on the coffee table, breaking the suffocating silence. Hallie lunged for it, desperate for a distraction.
Hallie blinked at the messages. The tension in her shoulders loosened, just a little. This was exactly what she needed—a distraction, something to clear her mind. And, for once, Sabrina was actually coming through.
Hallie smirked; her anxiety momentarily pushed aside. A spa treatment sounded perfect. A chance to unwind, be pampered, and forget about cryptic notes and unresponsive boyfriends.
Little did she know, her day was about to take another unexpected turn.
Hallie stepped onto the sidewalk, the cool afternoon air clinging to her skin as she adjusted the strap of her purse. The spa was only a few blocks away, but every step felt weighted, her movements sluggish. Maybe it was the unease still gnawing at the back of her mind—the red dress, the note, the strange feeling that she was walking straight into something she didn't understand.
Or maybe it was the fact that she was seven months pregnant.
Her belly made everything feel heavier, her balance slightly off, her body aching from carrying the extra weight. She hated feeling vulnerable, but tonight, that vulnerability felt sharper, more dangerous.
The streetlamps flickered as she passed, casting eerie shadows that stretched too long against the pavement. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself, forcing her gaze forward, refusing to acknowledge the tingling sensation at the nape of her neck. Someone was watching her. She could feel it.
Get a grip, Hallie. You're being paranoid.
A car idled at the curb, the engine low and rumbling, but the windows were too tinted to see inside. She quickened her pace, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder. The spa was in sight now, its sleek glass doors glowing warmly against the darkened street. Almost there.
She exhaled, forcing a relieved smile as she stepped inside, immediately greeted by the soft scent of eucalyptus and lavender. Calming, soothing—exactly what she needed. Sabrina had done good this time.
A receptionist with a tight bun and an unreadable expression looked up, her lips curling into something that resembled a smile. "Hallie, right? We've been expecting you."
Hallie hesitated. There was something off about the way she said it, something too knowing, too deliberate. But she pushed past it, nodding. "Yeah. My friend set this up. Sabrina?"
"Of course. Right this way."
The woman led her down a dimly lit corridor, the walls lined with doors, each one closed tight. The air was thick with essential oils, but there was an undercurrent of something else. Something metallic. Something wrong.
The woman stopped at the last door and pushed it open. "Your room. Please, make yourself comfortable."
Hallie stepped inside hesitantly, one hand instinctively resting on her stomach. The space was luxurious—soft white robes, plush massage table, candles flickering on a side table. It should've felt inviting, but the back of her neck prickled again. A sound filtered through the built-in speakers, low and melodic.
Then it changed.
A voice crackled through the speakers, distorted at first, then chillingly clear.
Hallie's breath caught. The world tilted.
Who the hell—
The door clicked shut behind her. Locked.
And she wasn't alone.
Then, music erupted through the speakers. A low, steady drumbeat. A creeping melody.
"The Pretender" by Foo Fighters.
Hallie's heart lurched. What the hell? The volume swelled, the lyrics curling through the air, mocking her. [This story is exclusively available for free only on Wattpad. If you see it anywhere else, it has been stolen.] She rushed to the door, twisting the handle. Nothing. She pounded against it, her voice hoarse with panic. "Hello? Let me out!"
The music only grew louder. Deafening. Her pulse slammed against her ribs, a wild, erratic rhythm.
Then, suddenly—it stopped.
The silence was worse.
A crackle. Then...her own voice, whispering through the speakers.
At first, she didn't understand. Then realization hit like ice down her spine.
It was her. Breathless. Moaning.
Oh God.
It was from a night with Ryder.
Her knees buckled. Her most intimate, private sounds filled the room, bouncing off the walls, twisted and amplified. Her cheeks burned, horror clawing up her throat. She wanted to scream, to rip the speakers out of the walls, but she was frozen.
Then, another shift. The recording cut.
Laughter. Low, mechanical, inhuman.
And then—
Her voice again, but it wasn't from that night. It was different. Sharp. Venomous.
This line was repeated 3 times.
Hallie's blood turned to ice. "No—"
The lights cut out.
Pitch black.
She screamed, arms flying up to shield herself.
And then—
A hand, cold and clammy, closed over her wrist.
She gasped, jerking back, but the grip tightened, fingers pressing into her skin. A whisper slithered through the darkness—too close, too familiar. "You thought no one would find out?"
A sudden flicker—just enough light to illuminate a figure looming over her. A mask? A face twisted into something unrecognizable.
Hallie's breath came in shallow gasps. Then—
A phone screen lit up. A video. Her. Writhing beneath Ryder, lost in the moment. Her stomach plummeted. The unseen figure chuckled darkly. "You ruined my life. Now I'm returning the favor."
Her pulse pounded in her ears. "Who are you?" she rasped.
Just as the words left her lips, something pressed over her face. A cloth. A sickly-sweet scent filled her nose. Dizziness washed over her, panic surging.
Her vision blurred, and just before she slipped into unconsciousness, she heard her own voice, whispering through the speakers once more.