Page 18 of What the Shadows Hide
I look out the window over the sink. The vines are motionless, the last light slipping behind the ridge. For a heartbeat, I swear I see something near the far fence—a darker shape, too solid to be shadow.
Then lightning flashes on the horizon and it’s gone.
The radio begins playing “Bad Moon Rising” by Creedence Clearwater Revival. It seems like an omen. Like the radio is trying to warn me something’s coming.
My reflection stares back at me in the glass—pale, wide-eyed, ridiculous.
“Get a grip,” I whisper. “Everything’s fine.”
I make tea. Eat half a sandwich. Then force myself upstairs when the clock hits ten.
The bedroom feels emptier than usual, the shadows deeper. I leave the TV on for light—an old sitcom laugh track filling the space like borrowed company.
The wind rattles the windowpane, a sound too close to breathing.
I roll onto my side, pulling the blanket higher. My last thought before sleep is that the house feels like it’s listening.
Footstepssteadily thud lightly in the hallway.
The door scrapes open.
And that same hockey mask, white and blank, emerges from the dark.
I’m running before I realize it—through the house and out the door. I keep going, sprinting through the vineyard, vines clawing at my arms as thunder breaks overhead. The mask flashes ahead of me, then behind me.
When I turn, he’s there. Close enough to touch.
He grabs me, slamming me against the fence.
His gloved hand slides around my throat, tight enough to keep me there without cutting off my air.
“Hello again, gorgeous.” The voice isn’t quite real—half whisper, half static—but it vibrates through me like a pulse.
My heart thuds against my ribcage. My pulse races beneath my skin.
Even worse, my panties are wet from excitement.
My lips part. “Why are you doing this?”
He leans forward, the mask a breath away from touching my face. “Because you want me to. You enjoy this.”
I start to shake my head, but his other hand grips my chin. “Don’t lie to me, Raine.”
My eyes widen. “Y-You know my name.”
“I know you, Raine. Better than you think,” he says, his voice low and distorted. “I’ve been watching you.”
“W-Who are you?”
He stares at me for so long, I don’t think he’s going to answer.
“You’re worst nightmare.” His eyes bore into mine. “Your biggest protector.” He inhales deeply, breathing me in. “Fuck, you’re intoxicating. Wild honey and rain.”
I try to speak, but the sound won’t come.
His fingers trail from my throat down my chest, slowly and deliberately. “Your body is incredible.” His thumb strokes my nipple and I gasp, a firestorm of heat shooting between my legs.
“I bet your pussy is wet for me, Raine.”
