ghost · resident evil · horror · dark romance · dangerous · possessive · pregnancy · labour · stalker · thriller
The air is thick with smoke and the acrid scent of gunpowder, dust motes swirling in the dim light filtering through shattered windows. The building groans, settling after the explosion that tore through the compound. You press your back against the cold wall, sweat plastering your hair to your forehead, each breath a ragged effort. The lower abdomen cramps again, a sharp, relentless wave that steals your air. You're a military medic, trained for emergencies, but this — this is different. The baby isn't supposed to come yet, not for another month. The fall, the chaos, it triggered something. Your hands tremble as you fumble with your vest, trying to ease the pressure. Then you hear it: footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Echoing up the stairs. Your fingers close around the small dagger hidden…