Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
SUMMER
I barely sleep, nightmares plaguing my mind as I toss and turn all night, still not used to the creaky house or the eerie silence of this smaller rural town. I’m used to noise. Mystic is much bigger than Kinsmen.
Here? I can hear a pin drop. Or someone scream.
I didn’t hear anyone scream, although I screamed in my dream. The kind where no sounds come out.
I roll over in my bed and realize I’m sticky with sweat dripping down my back. I’ve slept with my window open for the last six years, and last night was the first night I slept with it closed. Moonlight streamed through my window, making the trees sparkle with an ethereal glow.
Six years… It’s been six years since I first saw him in the corner of my bedroom in that burlap mask, six years since he started visiting me at night. Two years since he stole my innocence, with no sign of him since. Before then, he only watched me, and sometimes he touched me, but it was mainly desperate whispers in my dreams of how much he hated me.
After years of visiting me during the darkest parts of the night, he finally fucked me. His body was pressed against mine, and I opened my legs, inviting him in. After the initial shock of what was happening, and the first jolt of pain from when he pushed into me, my body absorbed him.
I died a little inside at how good he was. His hands were soft, inviting. He lifted his mask only to kiss me, and his kisses were intoxicating.
I wasn’t scared. At that point, I had already fallen in love with him. I simply couldn’t accept that he hated me, especially considering his actions didn’t align with his words. Over the years, whenever I had my recurring nightmare, he seemed to be there at the edge of my bed with that creepy mask, caressing my hairline with his thumb, telling me it was going to be okay.
It makes me wonder how often he was there, and I was unaware.
Then he was gone and never came back, and I had no proof he was real—other than the blood on my sheets when I woke up the next morning. I waited for him the next night, and the days and weeks after. I left the window open, hoping he’d return, but he never did.
He ruined me.
Over the years, I’ve convinced myself he was not real; I could have easily made myself bleed while dreaming of him.
I grab my phone and see a missed text from Dani.
Dani: You good up there?
It was from three hours ago. It’s now three in the morning, so I don’t respond.
The air in my room is suffocating, so I rise and open the window, inviting the cool crisp fall air into my room. I glance outside and see the outline of the dark firs and the stars in the clear night. No masked man, nothing but a hint of mist and the twinkling morning dew.
He’s not real…my nightmare. My dreams are not real.
That missing fragment of a memory I keep replaying in my head but can’t quite grasp. The cause of nightmares I’ve had since I was a child.
I pull up the photos again and stare at them, as if I didn’t stare at them enough last night. There is no question now—the girl in the first photo is me, both pictures were clearly taken the same night.
My hand moves to my breast, to my small and tight nipples. I run my hands over them like he used to, kissing my skin with my fingertips, driving my body crazy.
My body becomes ravished at the memory of him…the longing I can’t get rid of.
Taking a deep breath, I open the text and respond to the unknown number. My head begins to swirl. I should call 911, but my emotions are overriding my better judgment.
Summer: What do you want from me?
My body slumps forward, and I remember that dream. The soft whispers, the deadly aura that surrounded him.
Unknown Number: I missed you, pretty girl.
Pretty girl. My nameless monster used to call me that. He never used my name, it was always, pretty girl.
My hand whips to my mouth. Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and it takes a few seconds for me to regain my composure.
My nameless monster is back.
“Fuck me,” I whisper. The sick fuck is real, even though I’ve spent the last two years convincing myself he wasn’t. And now he’s here. Watching me, waiting for something.
Summer: Were you the one messaging me on the class site?
Unknown Number: I was just trying to help you, Summer.
I scramble up and shut my window again, checking to make sure it’s locked. I creep downstairs as goosebumps pebble my exposed flesh and I head into the kitchen.
Tripping over a box, I stub my toe. “Fuck’s sakes,” I grumble as a debilitating pain shoots up my foot, and I kick the box out of the way.
A draft hits my skin and I turn my head to find the drapes flowing over the window. Dani must have left it open. I rush over and shut that, too, before checking the front door, making a note to give her hell for leaving a window open.
I turn the light on, half expecting someone to jump out at me, but our tiny house is vacant. Just Misty’s mess still strewn about and Chinese takeout boxes littering the counter and two empty wineglasses they neglected to wash before bed.
I let out my breath and head upstairs, locking my bedroom door as a precaution before pulling the covers over me entirely.
Not that covers ever stopped him before… And now it seems like my stalker from high school is in my psychology class.
I wake up in a daze a couple of hours later, my throat dry and lips parched. The sun is streaming into the room now, and it’s like a sauna. I rise and open the window; the sunshine increases my sense of security. He never came to me when the sun was shining, as if he belonged to the night.
I stare at my tiny desk in the corner, and the pile of textbooks beckons me to read. Luckily, my first class doesn’t start until ten today, so I have some time to catch up and do the reading I wasn’t able to last night. My sleep was fitful at best for obvious reasons.
I swallow hard and grab my computer, pulling up my first weekly reflection, which I haven’t been able to start.
My phone is on my nightstand taunting me, but I ignore it. SF never texted me back last night, and I never responded to him, either. But that’s not unusual. The text message was the first time I’ve communicated with him other than with my eyes.
All those nights, while I was in a sleep-induced haze waiting for him, when I tried to say something, his hand caught my mouth, and I couldn’t breathe. The first time I screamed, I thought he might kill me, so I learned to stay quiet.
I open my computer and log onto the class site and stare down at the email address listed for Lincoln Kennedy.
He is the only person left linking me to this place. He knew my father, and I can’t rule out the possibility he’s behind this. What I can’t fathom is why?
He’s so…coveted, accomplished, and brilliant. It’s hard to comprehend his motivations for stalking and tormenting a teenage girl who lives in another town. Why would he threaten everything he’s built here? I can’t, however, ignore the obvious connection to me.
My stomach sinks, remembering the basis of his research. He and my father studied fear, anger, and all the other ickiest emotions, and he would have had easy access to me. Especially since my father was so close to Dr. Garcia, who is his adoptive mother.
An inkling in my stomach tells me I’m missing something. The flashes of familiarity that passed between Lincoln and me. Nothing concrete enough to really remember him, though.
Just a feeling.
I open an empty Word document and can’t seem to put words on the page. It doesn’t help that I haven’t started the readings beyond the articles on research methods in the social sciences, and I’m utterly determined to make it the best it can be, knowing who is grading it. That is, if I can bring myself to pick up my father’s textbook and actually start it.
The fresh aroma of coffee seeps into my room, distracting me, and my mouth salivates. I throw on some yoga pants, some mascara, a tank top with a denim jacket, throw my hair into a messy bun, and head out of my room. When I’m down the steep steps, Dani and Misty are huddled around the phone at the kitchen table, both of their faces etched with concern. Neither of them acknowledges me.
A pot of coffee is almost empty, and the delicious scent is wafting through the room.
“What’s going on?” I ask, pulling out a mug from the cupboard. Dani, looking fresh in baggy jeans and a cropped shirt showing off her tight and toned belly, finally notices me. I see they both have fresh cups of coffee, and no one bothered to call me down as I pour myself the burnt bit at the bottom.
Dani narrows her brows. “You look like shit.” Dani isn’t anything if she’s not honest.
I merely huff and take a sip, watching them.
“Summer, come watch this. This is seriously scary,” Misty says, being nice enough. I only join them when Dani turns up the volume and the name Shadowface hits my ear, catching my attention. The mere mention of his name piques my curiosity, just like everyone else who has caught the fever of him.
Only a few days at this university, and I’m already just as obsessed as everyone else is. His compulsion is strong, and I have a weird desire for more. To understand it all…even the dark parts I shouldn’t be so interested in. And now, I need to find out if I am somehow connected to it all.
It’s a live press conference, the red banner at the bottom of the news feed.
Breaking News ? —
“Remember yesterday when you said that photo was new?” Dani asks. “That you didn’t see that photo online when we were checking out the Shadowface victims?”
My heart falters. “Yeah.”
“Well, you were right. The news just broke this morning. That photo has never been seen before. She’s new and wasn’t part of the four victims of the 2002 copycat.”
Bile hits my throat and I stand in stunned silence.
Rather than respond, I take a moment to savor my coffee. It’s as if my brain understands what I need to do but can’t.
Misty shakes her head. “I doubt she’s new. She was still killed over twenty years ago. It’s just fresh evidence.”
My throat goes dry. “Are you sure about that?”
How can I possibly describe the inexplicable? I am absolutely certain that the photo is me. It seems like the first photo has spread everywhere. My lifeless body is displayed like a doll. At least the second photo, the one he only shared with me, is all mine.
The taste of ash lingers in my mouth. The entire campus gazing at me in that way was already distressing enough, but now it’s being broadcasted on the national news as well?
Dani’s eyes meet mine. “It must be old. It has to be. They haven’t found any other evidence. Someone out there would have missed a girl who looked like that.”
Misty quirks her head, studying her, then looks directly at me. “She seems so…sexual. It’s all so erotic.”
Red blurs my vision. “Shut up, Misty. Have some fucking respect for the dead.”
Misty’s mouth gapes open. “Sorry…I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I slide in next to Dani, attempting to steady my trembling hands. Dani shoots me a glance, but I choose to ignore it, focusing on the reporter who is positioned in front of a building on campus. The place will be swarming today. Authorities are looking into the origin of the text message on the first day of class and are advising everyone not to panic but remain vigilant.
“This is so messed up,” Dani whispers as the reporter shifts gears.
More breaking news ? —
“Look,” Misty says, pointing at the screen, her eyes bulging. “They found a connection. A girl went missing at a community college a few counties over three days ago. They believe it’s connected to the photo that was sent to our class. Like a copycat killer.”
This catches my attention…
I shuffle closer to get a better view of the live footage. The missing girl is blonde, of course. I can’t help but run my fingers over a lock of my hair. The color is eerily similar to my platinum white.
Her name is Cali, and she went missing while running in the woods. I guess it didn’t make headlines until now. Her friends and family can’t locate her, and the media from her town questions if this is connected, although the local police haven’t confirmed it. She was officially declared missing this morning, but the problem is, without the body, they can’t tell for sure.
Heat singes my neck and face, and a pain develops in my jaw from my clenched teeth.
“I was so sure,” I whisper under my breath, my heart leaping beneath my skin. The face in the photo that was sent to the class was covered in the mask, so it’s possible I might have misunderstood everything. Or perhaps the first photo was Cali, and I’m his next target and the picture he sent me was a warning?
I’m completely lost now. My mind is spiralling.
“So sure of what?” Dani asks, but I shake my head.
“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“It’s not the same girl,” Misty points out. “The hair color is similar for sure, but the body type is a touch different. The girl in the photo is curvier, like an hourglass. Kind of like you, Summer.”
My lips part slightly and I try to stop my voice from coming out wobbly. No words escape my lips, no matter how hard I try.
Dani looks at me carefully, watches the slight quivering of my hand. She rests hers on mine. “Girl, are you okay? Don’t worry, the police are saying not to jump to conclusions. You know what this town is like.”
I flip my eyes up to Dani and Misty, their gazes locking on mine as I brush a strand of hair from my eyes under their scrutiny.
Tell her… Tell someone about him. Show her the photo he saved just for me.
But I don’t, because if I do, it will be over. It will stop, or he will hide, and I will never find out what he wants from me.
“But they aren’t certain of that,” I remind her.
“Who do you think sent it?” Misty asks.
Dani says, her lips pressed together in a tight line, “If you want my opinion, I suspect the Order’s behind it. Their whole ideology was about creating disorder and chaos, and I’d say this is creating disorder and chaos.”
I observe her closely, wondering how she knows that, and ask, “Will they cancel the party because of this? I mean, a girl is missing.”
Dani shrugs. “I bet it’s all just an elaborate prank someone orchestrated to set the mood. They are trying to make everyone scared. And personally, I like to be a little scared.”
Yeah, scared…not tied up and erased from existence.
My hand finds the back of my neck. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Dani smirks and leans her elbows on the island. “Good, then you’re still coming?”
No. I’m not going to that fucking party. Not when there’s a potential copycat killer targeting me, or the fact I couldn’t be bothered. I don’t want to glorify murder.
“Fine, I’ll go.” I immediately regret my words. My willpower with Dani is non-existent, and I know she won’t let up. I’ll shoot my shot with the slim chance someone actually wants to murder me. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll finally reveal himself to me. If there was ever a place, that would be it.
I gather my books and head out the door with a shaking sense of dread that going to this party is a really terrible fucking mistake.