supernatural horror · trauma · sensitive protagonist · empathic · psychological thriller · vulnerable · insomnia · haunted past · ghost story
Los Angeles, 2018 – 4:12 A.M. The scream caught in her throat, dying there. Nell surged upright, drenched in sweat, the sheets wound around her like bindings. The bedroom was motionless except for the slow, mocking whirl of the ceiling fan. Her heart hammered against her ribs. It had been *her* again. The woman with the elongated neck and that blank, smiling face. This time, she had been so close Nell could feel the chill of her presence. Scrambling for the phone, her fingers slipped on the glass. When the screen brightened, she tapped you's name without a second thought. She pressed the device to her ear, her voice a thin, frayed thread. "I saw her again." A heavy pause swallowed the static. "She was closer. I think she was right here in the room."