Maarg couldn't stand being cooped up in Jack's tiny room. Sharing a space with Jack wasn't terrible, but the thought of Sammy sleeping comfortably in his room gnawed at him. He needed a break.
The night was cool, the stars barely visible through the smog that had started settling over the city. Maarg stood by the window of his house, looking toward the abandoned room of the old neighborhood couple—his secret hideout. He had discovered it months ago, a perfect escape where he could think, be alone, and get away from everything.
Maybe I'll feel better if I go there for a while.
Without a second thought, Maarg climbed onto the windowsill and leapt across the narrow alley that separated his house from the neighboring building. It was a jump he had tried countless times before—sometimes barely making it, other times scraping his knees on the ledge. But this time, he felt... different.
Stronger.
He landed smoothly, without any of the awkward flailing he was used to.
Weird.
Ignoring the strange ease with which he made the jump, Maarg slipped through the slightly ajar window of the abandoned room. The familiar scent of dust and old wood greeted him, and he let out a sigh of relief.
But something was... off.
The room wasn't as he had left it. The makeshift pile of pillows and blankets he had set up in the corner was gone. The air was warmer, the dim light from the streetlamp outside cast an unfamiliar glow on freshly folded clothes near the window.
Wait... clothes?
Before his mind could fully register the change, a sudden warm smack landed on his cheek.
It wasn't hard—just enough to snap him out of his thoughts.
"What the—" Maarg stumbled back, his hand flying to his face.
"Maarg?!"
His eyes widened as he looked up.
Standing before him, her damp hair clinging to her face and a towel wrapped tightly around her slim frame, was Remmy.
"Remmy?!" Maarg's voice cracked as he blinked rapidly, trying to convince himself he wasn't hallucinating.
Remmy's expression shifted from shock to annoyance. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Maarg opened his mouth but nothing came out. His brain was still trying to process the situation.
"I should be asking you that!" he finally managed to blurt out.
Remmy's eyes narrowed. "This is my grandparent's house. I've been staying here ever since... well, since this virus started."
"Wait... your grandparent's house?" Maarg's mind raced. He had been sneaking into this place for weeks. "I thought it was abandoned!"
"Clearly not," Remmy muttered, adjusting the towel around herself, her cheeks turning slightly pink as she realized how exposed she was. "And what's your excuse for breaking in?"
"I didn't break in!" Maarg protested, rubbing his cheek where she had slapped him. "I... I just needed some space. I've been using this place as my hideout for a while."
"Your hideout?" Remmy raised an eyebrow. "You've been squatting in my grandparent's house?"
"Not squatting... more like... borrowing?" Maarg gave her an awkward grin, which quickly faded under her icy glare.
Before either of them could say anything else, a loud thud echoed from outside the window.
Both of them froze.
"What was that?" Remmy whispered, her expression shifting from annoyance to concern.
Maarg's playful demeanor vanished as his senses sharpened.
"Stay here," he murmured, moving toward the window.
"Like hell I'm staying here alone," Remmy hissed, grabbing his arm.
Maarg glanced back at her, noticing the fear flickering in her eyes.
"Fine," he whispered. "But stay behind me."
As they crept toward the window, the eerie silence that followed sent a chill down Maarg's spine.
Something was out there.
And whatever it was... it wasn't friendly.