I never expected anything to change that night. I was just a girl living my quiet life, moving through the days unnoticed, like a soft breeze in the middle of a crowded street. I preferred it that way—calm, predictable, safe. But something strange happened that evening, and it all started with a single, lingering gaze.
I had just left the bookstore. It was late, but not too late. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a dim glow that still hung in the air. I remember how cool the breeze was on my skin as I walked, hugging my arms to my chest. The streets weren't empty, but the faces were all unfamiliar. That's why I felt a jolt when I noticed someone watching me—someone who didn't blend into the background.
It was a woman.
She stood at the corner, half-hidden in the shadows, but her presence was undeniable. Her eyes were dark, piercing, and they followed my every move. I didn't know why, but I couldn't look away. It was as if something about her drew me in. Maybe it was the way she carried herself—confident, like she owned the night. Or maybe it was the way she looked at me, as if she already knew me in a way that made me shiver.
I should have been scared. I should have kept walking. But instead, I found myself slowing down, my heart pounding in my chest as I glanced over my shoulder. She hadn't moved. Still, she watched.
I swallowed hard and quickened my pace, trying to shake off the unease. What was her problem? People don't just stare at you like that—at least, not here. My neighborhood was quiet, ordinary. People here were polite, distant. No one ever got too close. But this woman wasn't like anyone I had ever seen.
I kept walking, forcing myself to focus on the road ahead. My apartment wasn't far. I just needed to get home. I could still feel her eyes on me, and it made my skin tingle, like there was electricity in the air. I told myself not to look back again, but of course, I did.
She was gone.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe it was nothing. But my footsteps quickened anyway, and soon I was nearly running, eager to be in the safety of my apartment. I could feel my pulse racing, my mind telling me to forget about it. There was no reason to be afraid. No reason at all.
As I reached my building, my fingers fumbled with the keys. I slipped inside, locking the door behind me, finally exhaling as if the tension melted away the moment I was home. I dropped my bag on the floor and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water. The cold air washed over me, but it didn't do much to cool the strange heat that had crept into my veins.
I felt her eyes even now, in the safety of my own home.
Shaking my head, I took a long drink, trying to wash away the memory of that woman and her unsettling stare. I must have been overreacting, making something out of nothing. My life wasn't the kind of story where mysterious women showed up and turned everything upside down. I was just… Eulalie. Nothing special. Nothing exciting.
After a while, I convinced myself to relax. I took a shower, trying to let the steam soothe my racing thoughts. I stayed under the hot water for too long, letting it wrap around me like a cocoon. By the time I stepped out, the world outside my bathroom felt far away, like a distant dream. I wrapped myself in a towel, feeling the softness of the fabric against my skin.
Then the knock came.
It was soft at first, almost like a whisper against the door. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. No one came to visit me unannounced. No one ever knocked on my door, especially not this late. My heart began to pound again, that same unease creeping back into my chest.
I didn't move at first, hoping that maybe I was imagining things again. But then, it came again—louder this time.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to move. My legs felt heavy as I walked toward the door, my fingers trembling slightly as I reached for the doorknob. I didn't know why, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Slowly, I opened the door.
And there she was.
The woman from the street, the one with the dark eyes that had followed me. She stood in the hallway, her face half-hidden in shadows, but there was no mistaking her. She was taller than I remembered, her figure imposing yet graceful. Her lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, but it wasn't the kind of smile that made you feel at ease. It was the kind of smile that sent shivers down your spine.
"Hello, Eulalie," she said, her voice low and smooth, like velvet wrapping around my name.
I blinked, my throat dry. How did she know my name?
"Who are you?" I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she took a step closer, her eyes locked onto mine. There was something about the way she moved—so sure of herself, so confident. It was as if she knew I wouldn't turn her away. And she was right. I didn't.
"I've been waiting for this moment," she murmured, her eyes never leaving mine.
My skin prickled with unease, but I couldn't move. It was as if her presence held me captive, like a moth drawn to a flame. Something about her was so intoxicating, so dangerous.
"You don't know me yet," she continued, her voice soft but firm. "But you will."
I wanted to close the door, to shut her out and lock myself away from whatever strange spell she was casting over me. But instead, I stood there, frozen, watching her as she took another step forward, crossing the threshold of my home without hesitation.
"Wait—" I tried to speak, but she cut me off, her hand gently brushing against my arm. Her touch was light, barely there, but it sent a jolt through me.
"Shh," she whispered, her lips curving into that same haunting smile. "I'm not here to hurt you."
I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I stared up at her. There was something in her eyes, something wild and untamed, but I couldn't look away. She was dangerous. I could feel it in the air between us. But I was drawn to her, like gravity pulling me closer.
"What do you want?" I finally asked, my voice shaking slightly.
Her smile widened, and she leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear.
"You," she whispered.
And just like that, my world was no longer my own.
The moment hung between us, thick with tension. I should have pushed her away. I should have screamed or called for help. But I didn't. Instead, I stood there, letting her presence wash over me, her words sinking into my skin like a secret I didn't want to admit. There was no escaping her now.
I didn't even know her name..