Page 128 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

In fact, they got louder.

Heavier.

Closer.

I felt my pulse flicker uneasily.

Okay. Still probably Ethan. Just being annoying. That was his thing, wasn’t it? Being larger than life. Being the sun in everyone’s sky, and a migraine in mine.

I clenched my jaw and powered forward.

I didn’t want to deal with his sudden bursts of charm, his half-hearted attempts at being nice.

He’d already said enough.

“Seriously, Ethan,” I snapped, louder this time, the tension in my shoulders sharp and brittle. “Just leave me alone.”

No answer.

But the footsteps… they didn’t slow.

They were practically on top of me now. Almost overlapping mine.

The air felt… off. Denser. Like walking through soup.

That’s when I knew—really knew—something wasn’t right.

I stopped walking.

And for a heartbeat, the world held its breath with me.

Then I turned around.

I shouldn’t have.

Instinct told me not to. That primal whisper in the gut that only surfaces when something terrible is about to happen. But I turned anyway.

And then—darkness.

A coarse, musty sack slammed over my head, yanked down with such force I stumbled back. Hands—too strong, too cold—clamped around my arms, holding me in place.

The world blurred into chaos. My breath hitched. Panic rushed through my veins like venom.

Then, a voice.

Low. Familiar.

Too familiar.

“I knew you’d come out eventually, boy.”

No.

No.

No.

That voice had haunted the cracks in my dreams for years. That same rasp—the demon hollowed out like something unholy.

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