Chapter 3:

The streets are quiet as I speed walk home, but the silence doesn’t comfort me. It presses against me, thick and suffocating, amplifying the echo of my thoughts.

What is Valentine?

My mind plays through the possibilities, none of them comforting. A ghost? A trick of my imagination? Or worse… something real, something I can’t even comprehend.

The feel of his cold hands on my neck...he must definitely be a ghost. And he said he's a dead man. I saw the gravestone...that sums up.

But then again, ghosts aren't real. I guess he's proof?

My breath comes quicker as I approach the apartment. Every shadow feels alive, every sound louder, but yet, dull.

When I finally reach the door, my hands are shaking so badly I fumble with the keys twice before I manage to unlock it.

The moment I step inside, Ellie’s voice cuts through the air, almost giving me a fright. “You’re late. Where the hell have you been?”

She’s sitting casually on the couch, a half-eaten bag of chips beside her. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she looks up from her phone with a frown.

The second she sees my face, her playful irritation melts into concern.

“North… what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, closing the door behind me.

She narrows her eyes, setting her phone down. “Don’t even try that with me. You look like you just walked through hell. Spill.”

“It’s nothing, Ellie. Just a long day,” I mumble, heading to the kitchen.

She follows, her footsteps light against the wood floor, but insistent. “Nope. Not buying it. You’re pale, your hands are shaking, and you look like you’re about to cry. What happened? Was it Dorothy? I told you not to let her get to you."

I grab a glass and fill it with water, avoiding her gaze. “I said it’s nothing.”

She grabs the glass from my hand, setting it on the counter. “North.” Her voice is softer now, her eyes searching mine. “Talk to me.”

I hesitate, my chest tightening. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Probably,” she says, her lips quirking into a small smile. “But I’m still your best and only friend, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words break something in me, and the whole story spills out before I can stop myself. “I was at the cemetery last night, visiting my mom. And… I met someone. A man.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “A man? At the cemetery? At night? North, do I need to lecture you on stranger danger?”

“I wasn’t alone with him,” I say quickly. “I mean, I was, but… he wasn’t normal.”

Her playful expression fades. “What do you mean?”

I swallow hard, the words catching in my throat. “He… he said things about me. Things no one else could know. The way he moves as fast as sound. And tonight, I saw his grave, Ellie. He died over four hundred years ago.”

She stares at me, her mouth slightly open. “Wait, are you saying—”

“I don’t know what I’m saying!” I snap, my voice cracking. “I don’t know what he is. A ghost? A demon? Or maybe I’m just losing my mind!”

She steps closer, pulling me into a hug. “Hey. Hey. You’re not losing your mind. Something weird is going on, yeah, but we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Her warmth is grounding, but the fear doesn’t leave.

“What if it’s real, Ellie? What if he’s real?”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” she says firmly. “But right now, you need to rest. You’re exhausted, North.”

I nod and let her lead me to my room. When she leaves, I try my best to fall asleep. Maybe I'll get it off my mind with a lot of sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come easily. And when it finally does, it pulls me into a dream so vivid it feels like I’m there again.

The rain is heavy, the wipers struggling to keep up as my mom hums softly along with the radio. I’m in the passenger seat, fiddling with my bracelet, her laugh echoing in the small space.

“North, honey, look at this,” she says, pointing out the window at something I can’t see. Her voice is light, happy.

Then it happens.

The truck swerves into our lane, headlights blinding. The sound of tires screeching, metal crunching, and glass shattering fills the air. My mom’s scream pierces through everything, and then there’s silence.

I turn to her, my heart pounding. “Mom? Mom!”

Her head lolls to the side, blood dripping from a gash on her forehead. Her eyes are open but lifeless.

I scream, shaking her, begging her to wake up. “Mom, please! Please, don’t leave me!”

Then a pair of golden eyes appear out of nowhere, glowing in the darkness, locking onto mine.

“North…”

I wake with a start, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. My heart is racing, my skin damp with sweat.

Another nightmare.

It’s 2 a.m. The apartment is silent, but then I hear it...the soft, haunting melody of a violin.

I get up slowly, moving to the window. Outside, under the flickering streetlight, is a Valentine playing the violin. The tune is eerily familiar, sending chills down my spine.

I remember how we left things off and I'm filled with instant fear again. What is he? I study him from my post on the window.

His skin is pale and his hair is duller tham I remember.

Maybe he's a ghost...but I'll never know if I don't ask him myself.

Against every instinct, I grab my jacket and head outside. My curiosity outweighs my fear.

I tiptoe, not wanting him to run off the way he did before.

“I don’t think normal people should play a violin at this hour,” I say as I approach him.

The man turns, and my blood runs cold. It’s not Valentine.

His face is pale, his eyes gleaming with something dark and predatory.

I take a step back. “I—I thought you were someone else. Sorry.”

Before I can move, he’s suddenly in front of me, his speed impossible.

“Why are you awake at this hour?” he asks, his voice low and chilling.

I try to back away, but his hand shoots out, gripping my wrist. His touch is icy, his fingers like steel. Pain shoots up my arm as he tightens his hold, and I cry out.

“Let me go!” I scream, struggling to pull free.

He doesn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he leans closer, his breath cold against my skin. “You shouldn’t wander at night, little girl. It’s dangerous.”

I scream again, but it’s muffled as his other hand clamps over my mouth. His eyes gleam with hunger, and before I can process what’s happening, he bends his head.

The pain is sharp and immediate as his teeth sink into my neck. My struggles weaken as darkness creeps in, my vision fading.

The last thing I hear is the haunting melody of the violin, echoing in the distance.