CHAPTER 10 - Madeline
My entire body goes rigid the second I hear Lucy's voice outside the cold storage.
Did she see him? No. Not now. Please, not now. My vision goes blurry for a heartbeat before I can shake it off. Then, Lucy bursts through the heavy metal door, heading straight for me. Her expression is a mix of fear and utter confusion.
“Madeline Emerson, who the fuck was that man sneaking out of the mortuary this late at night?”
She demands, crossing her arms over her chest as she waits for an answer.
The words die in my throat. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. A single tear escapes, sliding down my cheek, and I quickly brush it away.
It’s too much. All of this is just too much. Lucy notices my expression immediately, her anger vanishing as quickly as it came. She rushes toward me, pulling me into a desperate hug.
“Mali, you can tell me anything. You know that.”
My eyes flicker toward the bodies still pulled out on their trays. Lucy follows my gaze, and her breath hitches.
“What happened here?”
She steps closer, her eyes landing on Jake’s corpse.
I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“Is that—“
“Yes,” I cut her off, finally finding the courage to speak.
She’s stunned. I can’t tell if she’s more furious that I didn’t tell her about his death or the fact that she just ran into a stranger who clearly didn't have permission to be here.
Either way, I lied to her. Now, the consequences are eating me alive. She’s probably going to kill me herself.
“He was murdered the night of the masquerade party. Tortured,” I state, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears as I try to maintain some semblance of professional detachment.
Her suspicion spikes instantly. I can practically see the gears turning behind her eyes, connecting dots I'm desperately trying to erase.
“The night you both went alone into the private lounge, you mean?”
Her tone isn’t accusing. She knows I couldn’t do it, but she knows I’m hiding something. Something really important.
Before I can even attempt a lie, my phone vibrates in my pocket. My heart stops. I pull it out, my fingers trembling as I glance at the screen.
UNKNOWN: “Don’t you dare tell her about me, Madeline.”
A firm warning. Unmerciful. Cruel.
It's like he's standing right behind me, his breath cold against my neck. I don’t let my face betray the terror. Lucy is scanning my every move like a detective now.
What the fuck am I supposed to tell her? If he wants me to keep quiet, he could at least send some actual instructions instead of just psychological warfare.
I need to tell the truth. At least a part of it. Even if he kills me for it eventually. The weight of this silence is eating me alive.
“Before the masquerade party, someone approached me,” I begin, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to steady it. I hate how weak I sound.
“A man. The one you just met in the hallway.”
I take a breath, the sterile air of the morgue suddenly feeling too thin.
“He’s been watching me for two weeks now. Everywhere.”
Lucy pauses, her expression turning deadly serious.
“And you didn’t think about calling the police? Calling me? I have a serious case of déjà vu here. Is he stalking you?”
The question hits me like a brick. I was about to call the detective, but he stopped me. But did I actually want to get him caught? Ever since I met him, I’ve been plagued by questions I don’t have the answers for, and it’s getting truly frustrating.
“I don’t know Lucy… it’s—“
I pause, catching my breath.
“It's complicated.”
Her eyes widen as she takes a step toward me, her hands grabbing my shoulders.
“Mali, if he’s stalking you, we need to go to the police right now. This isn’t a joke. Especially not after what happened to Jake.”
I look down at my phone, the screen still glowing with the message from him. If I tell Lucy the truth, that the man she just passed is the one who did this to Jake, he will kill us both. He’s watching. I know it.
“I can’t Lucy,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why isn’t it simple?”
Lucy raises her voice, her frustration bubbling over.
“Your ex is dead on your table, a psycho is following you, and you’re acting like you’re protecting him! Is he threatening you? Is that it?”
I look at her, and for a second, I want to scream everything.
I want to tell her about the note in the heart, about the way he touched me, about the terrifying attraction I felt toward a monster.
But then I remember his eyes. Those soulless, dark eyes that see everything. I can’t put my best friend in danger.
“He told me that if I talk, someone else dies,” I lie, though it feels like the truth.
“Lucy, please. Just… give me tonight to figure it out. If you go to the police now, you’re putting a target on your back too.”
And now I fear I already told her too much. Lucy looks like she wants to argue, but the fear in my eyes finally reaches her. She lets out a long, shaky breath and hugs me again, tighter this time.
“Fine. One night. But I’m staying with you. I’m not leaving you alone in this place.”
“No!”
I pull back a bit too quickly, the word escaping me like a shot.
“You have to go. If he sees you staying, he’ll know I told you something. Please, Lucy. Just go back to the station. Act like everything is normal. I’ll be okay. I have my car, and I’ll go straight home after.”
She hesitates for a long time, scanning the dark corners of the cold storage as if she expects him to jump out of the walls. Finally, she nods, though her expression remains tight with a mixture of fear and professional frustration.
“Fine. But I’m calling you every hour. If you don’t pick up, I’m sending the whole precinct here.”
I watch her walk toward the door. She looks back one last time, her face full of worry, before the heavy metal door clicks shut.
The silence that follows is deafening. I’m alone with Jake’s body and the ghost of a killer. I lean against the cold table, my heart finally slowing down to a dull, aching thud, when my phone vibrates again.
I swear I will throw the goddamn phone away after this night is over. I let out a long sigh and glance at the screen.
UNKNOWN: “You’re a very good liar, Madeline.”
A wave of relief flashes over me, followed immediately by a sharp sting of guilt. I’m annoyed at myself for feeling strangely appealed by his praise. What’s wrong with me?
UNKNOWN: “But I fear you still told your little friend too much. Even when I warned you.”
ME: “I didn’t tell her anything.”
UNKNOWN: “And here I thought you were smarter than that, little storm. Lying to me is a bad decision. I don't think you learned your lesson tonight. Did you, Madeline?”
My pulse quickens instantly, because tonight’s hunt is obviously not over yet. I type back frantically.
ME: “I did.”
UNKNOWN: “We will see about that. End your shift and get in your car.”
A long pause follows and my heart is beating harshly once again. I will get a heart attack soon. Then my phone vibrates one last time.
UNKNOWN: “I suggest you drive really fast tonight. Let’s see how good of a driver my girl really is.”
I cleaned up the cold storage room. My office. And head straight to my car. My heart is beating so fastly against my ribs it feels like it might break them.
I throw the phone onto the passenger seat and slam the car into gear. I need to get away. From the mortuary, from Jake’s cold body, but mostly from the shadow that is currently hunting me.
My tires scream as I peel out of the parking lot, the headlights cutting through the thick, rain-soaked mist. The road is empty, a long stretch of black asphalt reflecting the dim streetlights. I’m driving fast, too fast for the conditions, but I can’t slow down. Not after that message.
The screen of my phone glows again. I steal a glance.
UNKNOWN: “I said fast, Madeline. Not reckless. Don’t make me come over there and take the wheel myself.”
Suddenly, a pair of blinding white lights appears in my rearview mirror. They weren’t there a second ago. A large, dark SUV is approaching at a terrifying speed.
Before I can even process it, he’s right on my bumper. The glare from his high beams fills my entire car, blinding me. I’m trapped in a cage of white light. I floor the gas. My car struggles to keep up, the engine roaring in protest.
I take a sharp turn toward the old forest road, hoping to lose him in the curves.
The mist is thicker here, the trees standing like silent giants on both sides of the road.
But he doesn’t fall behind. He stays exactly two inches from my rear, herding me like a predator chasing its prey toward a cliff. Then another message pops up.
UNKNOWN: “Almost there baby. Show me what happens when you run out of a road.”
My breathing is shallow, ragged. I’m losing control. His car suddenly roars and pulls into the opposite lane. He draws level with me, his massive tires spinning just inches from my door.
I can’t see him through the tinted glass, but I know he’s watching. He’s enjoying this. With a sudden, violent swerve, he pulls ahead of me and slams on his brakes. Not dangerously, but enough for me to have to react.
I slam my foot on the brake pedal. My car skids, the tires losing grip on the wet mud and leaves. The nose of my vehicle stops just inches from the back of his.
Silence follows. The only sound is the rhythmic clicking of my hazard lights and the heavy thud of my pulse in my ears. His car sits there, idling, a dark beast blocking my only way out. I’m paralyzed, my hands frozen on the steering wheel.
A message comes.
UNKNOWN: “You have exactly twenty seconds to start running. I wouldn’t waste them sitting there if I were you.”
Panic, pure and primal, finally takes over.
I don’t think about my purse or my keys. I throw the door open and stumble out into the freezing night air. The smell of pine and wet earth fills my lungs as I look at the dark wall of the forest. Ten seconds had already passed.
“Ten…”
His voice comes from the distance.