Ava's POV
The silence is suffocating.
My shallow breath echoes, barely audible in the oppressive stillness. My limbs remain paralyzed, my body trapped in a frozen state for what feels like an eternity. Five hours. Five agonizing hours.
At first, I thought it was fear—crippling, all-consuming terror that locked my muscles in place. But now, I know better. This isn't just fear.
Something is in this room with me.
Watching. Waiting.
I can feel it. No—I can almost taste it. A presence. A warmth. Something standing just beyond my vision, close enough that I should see it, should hear it. But I don't.
Not a breath. Not a shift in the air.
It doesn't move.
It's waiting for me to move first.
Waiting for the slightest twitch, the smallest exhale—to strike.
A slow, burning sensation creeps across my chest, wrapping around my ribs like invisible hands. It's squeezing. Tightening. My breath comes in ragged, shallow gasps, each one harder than the last.
The pressure spreads, sharp and searing, crawling up my throat. My vision blurs. My body is betraying me. I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't—
Sweat drips down my forehead, stinging as it trails into my parted lips. My lungs refuse to expand. Something is crushing me from the inside out.
I am dying.
I want to cry, to scream, but my voice is gone. My lips tremble as a single tear slips down my cheek. I'm suffocating. My fingers twitch against the sheets, a pathetic attempt at movement, at escape.
Then—warmth.
A wave of unnatural heat sweeps over me, crawling up my spine like a breath against my skin.
A shadow looms just outside my vision. So close.
And then—
Darkness.
---
Third-Person POV
Soft brown hair dances in the wind, catching the golden light of the sun. A child giggles.
A man's hands wrap around her ankles, playfully flipping her upside down.
"Dad! No!" she shrieks, laughter bubbling from her lips.
He startles, immediately setting her down, his expression frantic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Are you hurt?" He runs his hands over her arms, searching for wounds that don't exist.
She giggles again, sticking her tongue out. "I was joking!"
His panicked expression softens. "You little troublemaker…"
"If you're really sorry," she teases, "you'll buy me ice cream for a whole year." She stretches out her pinkies, waiting for him to seal the deal.
He doesn't move.
His hands tremble. His head bows. His shoulders shake.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
She frowns. "Dad…?"
"I failed you." His voice cracks. "I failed you, Evelyn. This is all my fault."
Her stomach tightens. "What… what are you talking about?"
He looks up.
Blood drips from his eyes.
From his mouth.
A gurgling, wet laugh bubbles up from his throat.
"You bitch," he spits, voice distorted, unnatural. His lips stretch into something that isn't a smile. "I'm going to kill you. Just like I killed your mother."
Her scream is instant.
She scrambles backward, her breath hitching, her limbs flailing.
He's convulsing, choking on his own blood, his body writhing like something is inside of him.
"Don't let them know," he chokes out between jagged, rasping gasps.
"Don't let them know."
His voice changes—distorted, layered, too many voices at once.
"They're watching you. They will kill you."
He throws his head back and laughs. A sickening, howling sound. It is not human.
Her fingers dig into the dirt, scrambling to push herself away, to run.
"You're going to die just like your mother," the thing hisses.
"Just listen to me. Listen to your father. Do what I tell you."
Her body trembles.
"You're a spoiled brat," he sneers.
Her breath stops.
His smile stretches too wide. His bloodied hands reach for her—
And the ground beneath her feet vanishes.
She plummets into the darkness.
---
Back to Ava's POV
"AVA! AVA, CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"
A voice cuts through the haze.
Something shakes me.
Pain explodes through my chest, burning through my ribs, pressing into my sternum like a crushing weight. My lips part, but my throat is raw—I can't speak.
"Stay with me! You're gonna be okay! We're getting you help!"
Warmth. A hand gripping mine.
A flicker of relief.
I'm saved.
…Aren't I?