I dipped my hand into the tank, the water cools and indifferent. No trace of blood. Yet, the tap's dripping persisted—a metronome of dread. I wondered if it was a warning, a reminder that reality could warp, twist, deceive.
As we returned inside, Margaret and I watched the doorway in silence. Our eyes held a mix of fear and determination. She mouthed a silent question: What do we do now?
...
Margaret and I sat in my art studio, surrounded by canvases that held more than mere paint. The twisted art—the cursed manor—hung on the wall, its fractured surface reflecting our fear. We need protection, protection from that masked man of manor.
Margaret's touch lingered on the canvas—the twisted oaks, their gnarled branches capturing the essence of Ravenwood's haunting. The recent murder at Witherstones Raven Manor seemed to seep through my brushstrokes, a dark echo of secrets buried in the soil.
"Kai," Margaret said, her voice soft. "Your ex-best friend. The one who vanished into the city's chaos."
I nodded, memories resurfacing—the laughter, the late-night conversations, and then the silence, the bittersweet taste of lost friendship. We were once inseparable—best friends who navigated life's twists together. But then Kai vanished, consumed by the city's chaos and the demands of his work.
The silence that followed left me haunted, wondering if Kai glimpsed the same shadows, if he too felt the masked figure's breath on his neck. She couldn't shake the feeling off that Kai's disappearance was no accident. The town's tendrils reached beyond its borders, ensnaring them all in a web of secrets and longing. Kai had become a phantom, lost in the urban labyrinth. His work consumed him, leaving no room for old ties.
Margaret's gaze held mine. "Evelyn, we need to find him. Maybe he knows more than we realize."
I shook my head, my voice trembling. "I disagree, Margaret. We shouldn't try to find Kai. He abandoned me without a word, just disappeared and went away. There's no friendship left."
But Margaret was relentless. "Evelyn, there's something you're not seeing. We have to know why he left in the first place."
"I don't understand why we need him," I furrowed my brow. "What help could he offer even if he knew about something?"
Margaret was too adamant. "He could tell us how to protect ourselves."
"We're not sure if he encountered the masked man, which might explain his disappearance. His mother told me that he's safe and he has no interaction with the Witherstones killer. He wants to pursue something greater, which is why he hasn't bothered to maintain his connection with me anymore." I explained it to her, her eyes reflecting back the annoyance that held in my eyes.
Margaret's eyes narrowed. "That's it? Haven't you tried to call him back and ask for closure?"
I sighed, the weight of her unanswered questions pressing down on me. "I did, but he never responded." I shook my head and picked up my phone to see any email from the Showcase Ceremony.
My eyes lit up as I saw my name on the shortlist of artists.
"Oh my god, Margaret," I exclaimed.
She peeked over my shoulder at the email and screamed. "You did it, you did it! Congratulations, Evelyn!" She hugged me tightly.
"Now, focus on your incomplete paintings. We've been shortlisted, but we still need to showcase our work to finally receive the grand reward." I nodded in agreement.
Our stalker hadn't bothered us for days for some reason. We left the studio early and eagerly awaited the date of the showcase ceremony. Life seemed normal once again… until…