Page 82 of Fatality

I seriously need to stop watching so many movies and reading so many books.

Suddenly, three soft knocks.

They're so subtle I almost convince myself I imagined them.

My heart starts pounding, my grip tightens around the bottle hard enough that I nearly crack the glass, and I'm not even that strong.

I freeze, I don't breathe, I just listen.

Nothing. Not a single sound.

I'm probably going crazy.

Falling asleep with horror movies playing in the background isn't exactly great for my peace of mind.

I sigh.

“Goddamn it, Riven,” I whisper to myself. “You're going crazy.”

I start toward the stairs leading to my mezzanine. I'm halfway up when I freeze.

I hear footstep outside.

Outside.

How the hell? I'm on the sixth floor.

Sure, there's an emergency staircase outside the building, but it's beside my bathroom window.

Not behind my bedroom wall.

And my bedroom sits even higher than the living room because it's on the fucking mezzanine.

Every muscle in my body goes rigid. Maybe it's a neighbor, maybe it's the building settling. Maybe it's—

Another step echoes softly, slow and deliberate.

My stomach drops.

No.

Someone is definitely out there.

“I'm going to call the Enforcers!” I shout toward the wall.

Toward whoever's out there.

If someone could see me right now, they'd probably think I'd finally lost my mind. Just some crazy woman yelling at a wall and wondering why nobody's locked her up in a psych containment facility.

But I swear to God, I fucking heard footsteps.

I wait but nothing comes.

No answer, no movement nor mocking voice from the other side.

Just silence.

The kind of silence that somehow feels louder than the noise itself.