I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about this town. It had been less than a week since I'd arrived, and already the air felt thick with secrets. As I walked down Main Street, the afternoon sun casting long shadows, I caught sideways glances from the locals. Their eyes seemed to linger a moment too long, as if they were trying to figure me out.
Or maybe I was just paranoid.
I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs of suspicion. This was supposed to be a fresh start, not another dead end. But as I passed the local diner, I overheard a snippet of conversation that made me freeze.
"...another attack last night. This time near the old Miller farm."
I slowed my pace, straining to hear more without looking obvious.
"Hush, Joe. We don't need to be spreadin' rumors."
"It ain't rumors if it's true, Marge. I saw the carcass myself. Whatever did that ain't natural."
A chill ran down my spine. Unnatural attacks? What had I gotten myself into?
I hurried past, my mind racing. I'd chosen this town at random, desperate for a new beginning after... well, after everything. But now I wondered if I'd jumped from the frying pan into the fire.
As I rounded the corner, I nearly collided with a solid wall of muscle. Strong hands steadied me, and I looked up into the most intense green eyes I'd ever seen.
"Whoa there," a deep voice rumbled. "You okay?"
It was him. The guy from the other night, the one I'd seen from my window. Up close, he was even more striking – all hard angles and brooding intensity.
"I'm fine," I managed, stepping back. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."
He nodded, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that made my skin tingle. "You're new in town."
It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "Yeah, just moved in last week. I'm Isabella."
"Damien," he replied, his expression unreadable. "Welcome to Cedar Creek. Though you might want to be more careful around here. Never know what might be lurking around the corner."
There was something in his tone that sent a shiver through me. Before I could respond, he brushed past me, disappearing into the growing twilight.
I stood there for a moment, my heart racing. What was that about? The way he'd looked at me... it was like he knew something I didn't. And that warning – was he trying to scare me, or protect me?
Shaking off the encounter, I continued home, my apartment just a few blocks away. As I climbed the stairs to my second-floor unit, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. I glanced over my shoulder, but the street below was empty.
Inside, I leaned against the closed door, taking a deep breath. Get it together, Isabella. You're imagining things.
But as I moved through my small living room, my gaze was drawn to the window. The same window where I'd first seen Damien that night, prowling the streets like some urban predator. Now, the view beyond the glass was nothing but deepening shadows.
I tried to focus on normal things – unpacking the last of my boxes, heating up some leftover pasta for dinner. But my mind kept circling back to the overheard conversation, to Damien's cryptic warning.
As I ate, I pulled out my laptop and searched for local news. Nothing about animal attacks or mysterious deaths popped up. Either the locals were keeping it quiet, or I was blowing things out of proportion.
A sudden crash outside made me jump. Heart pounding, I crept to the window, peering out into the darkness. The street lamp flickered, casting eerie shadows across the pavement. Was that movement in the alley across the way?
I squinted, leaning closer to the glass. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw a pair of eyes reflecting the dim light, too high off the ground to be a normal animal. Then the lamp steadied, and whatever I'd seen vanished.
Sleep didn't come easily that night. I tossed and turned, my dreams a jumble of snarling beasts and piercing green eyes. When I finally drifted off, it felt like only minutes before my alarm jolted me awake.
Groggy and unsettled, I made my way to the bathroom. As I splashed water on my face, trying to wake up, something caught my eye. There, on the side of my neck, was a small, crescent-shaped mark. Like a scar, but I knew it hadn't been there yesterday.
My breath caught in my throat. What the hell?
I leaned closer to the mirror, examining the mark. It wasn't painful, just slightly raised, like an old wound. But I knew with absolute certainty that I'd never been injured there.
A dozen possibilities raced through my mind, each more unlikely than the last. Could I have scratched myself in my sleep? But my nails were short, and the mark was too precise.
As I stared at my reflection, a chill crawled up my spine. The mark, the whispered conversations, Damien's warning – it all swirled together in my mind, painting a picture I couldn't quite make out.
One thing was clear: something strange was happening in Cedar Creek. And somehow, I was caught in the middle of it.
I dressed quickly, my earlier unease blooming into full-fledged anxiety. I needed answers, and I knew just where to start. James, my self-defense instructor, seemed to know more about this town than he let on. Maybe he could shed some light on what was going on.
As I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I whirled around, heart pounding.
There, scratched into the condensation on my bedroom window, were three words that made my blood run cold:
"THEY KNOW YOU'RE HERE."
I stumbled back, my mind reeling. Who knew I was here? And more importantly, who – or what – had written that message?
As I stood there, frozen in fear, a long, mournful howl echoed through the morning air. It sounded close – too close. And somehow, I knew it was meant for me.