Kevin

Laila had invited her friend to stay the night.They talked until their laughter faded, played until exhaustion pulled them apart, and finally retreated to their separate rooms to sleep.Deep in the night, while Laila slept unaware, a scream tore through the house—raw, desperate, and short, as if it had been cut off mid-breath.Laila woke with a violent jolt.Her chest tightened as she followed the sound to her friend’s room.The door was half open.Inside, her friend lay sprawled on the bed like a discarded doll. Her body was twisted at an impossible angle, eyes wide open and empty, her mouth frozen in a silent plea. Blood had soaked through the sheets, dripping down the sides of the mattress and pooling on the floor.Laila stood rooted to the spot.Her hands shook so badly she could barely breathe.The room stank of iron.Then—A warm breath touched her neck.Her blood ran cold.She turned slowly.A man stood inches behind her, dressed in black. His pale hair clung to his forehead, and a smile stretched across his face. Fresh blood smeared his lips and jaw, still wet.His eyes gleamed with delight. He wear glasses.

Hello, sweetheart.

he whispered, looking at her innocent, untouched face and cupped her cheek tenderly.