The envelope sat on my desk like a time bomb, its crisp white surface practically glowing under the faint light of my lamp. There was no return address, no identifying marks, just my name scrawled in sharp, jagged handwriting that felt more like a taunt than a formality.
I already knew what it would say.
The last one had left me sleepless for days, its words cutting deeper than I cared to admit. Still, my hands moved on their own, tearing the envelope open and unfolding the letter within.
The same uneven, mocking script greeted me.
"Seth Carver, the great failure. Too dumb to make a move. Too late to save anyone. Not even smart enough to gain her trust, are you ? Let me guess, still floundering around like a lost dog ? Tick-tock, Seth. Time's running out. And this time, you won't even know what hit you."
The words burned into my mind. My knuckles whitened as I gripped the letter, and before I realized it, I'd shredded it into jagged pieces. It didn't matter how many times I tore it up. The truth behind it lingered, unshakable.
They were right.
I'd done nothing. I'd failed to gain Seira's trust, failed to figure out who was behind this, and now the killer was mocking me for it.
But I wasn't going to let them win.
Grabbing my jacket from the chair, I yanked it on and pulled a hat low over my face. I didn't have a badge, or authority, or even a clear idea of what I was doing—but I had to do something. If I didn't, then who would?
The streets were cloaked in quiet, only the occasional hum of a car or the distant rustle of wind disturbing the silence. I stuck to the shadows, my movements calculated and cautious, the kind I'd seen detectives make in movies. I wasn't one, of course—not even close. But I could fake it.
I had no concrete plan, just the faint hope of catching the killer slipping up. My first stop was Seira's neighborhood.
Her street was unnervingly quiet, the houses dark and lifeless save for the faint glow of porch lights. I moved carefully, avoiding direct light, and scanned my surroundings.
That's when I saw it.
The car.
It was parked three houses down from hers, its engine silent, but its presence felt wrong. I recognized it immediately—I'd seen it parked near the school yesterday. And the diner the day before.
My stomach knotted.
I crouched behind a tree, watching the vehicle. The driver's seat was occupied, but I couldn't make out the figure inside. They didn't move, but the faint glow of a phone screen illuminated their face every now and then.
Were they watching Seira?
I dug my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture of the car, making sure to include the license plate. My heart hammered in my chest as I lowered the phone.
What now?
Calling the police crossed my mind, but without evidence, what could I even say? "There's a creepy car near my classmate's house"? It wasn't illegal to park in a public space.
But this wasn't normal.
I crept closer, sticking to the shadows until I was no more than ten feet away from the car. The driver still hadn't noticed me—or if they had, they didn't show it. My pulse thundered in my ears as I strained to get a better look.
The phone's light flickered again, revealing a flash of pale skin and dark brown hair. Male, maybe? It was hard to tell.
Then, without warning, the car's headlights flicked on, blinding me.
I stumbled back, shielding my face as the engine roared to life. The car peeled out of its spot, tires screeching as it sped down the street and disappeared around the corner.
For a moment, I just stood there, heart racing and lungs burning. I hadn't even realized I'd been holding my breath.
The cold night air stings my lungs as I run, my feet pounding against the pavement. The streets are empty, save for the dim glow of flickering streetlights. Each step echoes loudly in the silence, as if the world itself is holding its breath.
"Faster, Seth."
I push myself harder, my legs burning with the effort. Seira's house is miles away, a distant point on the map compared to mine. But that doesn't matter. Not now.
"Just get home. Get home, then think."
My breath comes in ragged gasps as the streets blur past. Every shadow feels alive, stretching toward me, mocking my desperation. My ears strain for the sound of footsteps behind me, but all I hear is the relentless drumbeat of my own heart.
Finally, my house looms ahead, a dark silhouette against the inky sky. Relief surges through me, but it's quickly swallowed by a deeper unease. My fingers tremble as I fumble for the keys in my pocket, the cold metal slipping against my skin.
"Come on, come on—"
The door swings open, and I stumble inside, slamming it shut behind me.
When I got back to my room, I couldn't shake the image of that car. The way it had been parked near her house, the way the driver had sat there so still—it all screamed wrong.
I pinned the photo of the car to my wall, next to the map where I'd been marking the strange incidents surrounding Seira.
"Too slow," the letter had said. Maybe they were right.
But not for long.
I capped my marker and stared at the map. Whoever this was, they weren't invincible. And I was going to prove it.