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Chapter Text

2000

The house stood proud, a quarter of a condominium with four homes connected. The best part? The neighbors were good people. This was the house Jane had chosen. Her first home after leaving her father’s shadow. 

She parked her car, filled with boxes, and let out a deep sigh of relief. This was it. As she stepped inside, the familiar scent of wood wrapped around her. It was a smell she had missed since her first visit with the real estate agent.

The house was three stories high, a narrow structure that reached for the sky. The first floor was all about the kitchen. It felt warm and inviting. But the top floor? That stirred mixed emotions. 

The staircase led to a room that felt like an attic. Two windows looked down at her like watchful eyes. They were meant to keep the heat out in summer, but Jane felt a chill creeping in. 

She pictured the room. It would be perfect for weekend reading marathons. But something felt off.

Her heart raced. It was a lovely home, yes. But it carried a sense of mystery.

Something nagged at her. It was the real estate agent’s comment about a strange feature of the house: the walls were hollow. The agent shrugged it off, saying pipes ran through the walls. He assured her that rats wouldn’t be a problem. The previous owner had set traps.

Still, Jane wasn’t convinced.

She stepped closer to the walls and rapped her knuckles against the wood. The sound echoed back—hollow and unsettling. She wondered how wide the gap was between the inner wall and the outer one. Could someone slip through? Or maybe not, with all those pipes in the way. That thought sent a chill down her spine. 

Why did it bother her so much?

She felt stuck in a strange mix of curiosity and dread. Could she hear it? The faint scratching sounds, like whispers from a horror movie. What if something was hiding just out of sight? 

Her heart raced. The idea of being watched from within those walls tightened her chest. She shook her head, trying to push the fear away. But it clung to her like a shadow. 

With each moment, the house felt less like a home and more like a trap. A trap holding secrets. The thought of those secrets made her pulse quicken. 

What else lay hidden? What had the previous owner concealed?

As Jane opened the boxes, her fingers brushed against something small and hard. It was a picture frame, the kind that sits on a desk, meant to be seen often. 

She lifted it, and her heart sank. It was a snapshot of her younger self, her ex-boyfriend, and a group of friends. All smiles, all laughter. But that memory felt heavy now. A bitter taste surged in her mouth. 

She wanted to hurl the frame against the wall. To shatter that moment frozen in time. 

Why was it here? This wasn't a keepsake; it was a reminder of a past she wanted to forget. It belonged in the trash, not stored away in a box.

As she stared at the image, anger mixed with regret. She scolded herself for feeling this way. It was over. So long ago. Yet here she was, trapped in a moment that no longer reflected who she was. Her cheeks burned with shame. 

She had moved on, or so she thought. But the sight of that frame pulled her back, like quicksand. Memories flooded her mind, sharp and invasive. 

She remembered how they used to laugh. How they used to dream. Now, those dreams felt empty. 

What did it all mean? 

Jane tossed the frame back into the box. She felt like a ghost in her own life. It was time to confront what she had buried. Time to decide what to keep and what to let go.

As she closed the box, a thought nagged at her. Was it really time to forget? Or was it time to face the truth of who she had become?

Feeling drained, Jane stood in her new apartment. Boxes were everywhere, half-opened and stacked haphazardly. She managed to pull out an air mattress from one of them. It was flimsy, but it would have to do. For months, it would serve as her only refuge until she could afford a proper bed.

She dragged herself up the creaky stairs. Fatigue weighed her down. Each step felt like a small victory, yet it reminded her of her isolation. The third floor was dark and silent, a stark contrast to the busy street below.

She stretched the air mattress out on the cold floor, the fabric whispering against the wood. Inflating it was a struggle. The sound of air rushing in filled the silence. Finally, it was ready.

She flopped down onto the mattress. The slight discomfort pressed against her bones, but it didn’t matter. Right now, this was her space. This was the start of something new.

Sleep came quickly. Darkness wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. Dreams rushed in, shadows lingering in the corners. 

Her mind twisted and turned, replaying everything that had brought her here. The sudden move. The broken relationships. The financial strain. Each thought wrapped around her like a tightening vine. She felt the weight of her choices. The solitude pressed in on her.

In that dark room, dread settled deep. The air mattress beneath her felt more like a trap. It reminded her of everything she had lost. As she drifted into sleep, the mattress seemed to sigh, mirroring her own exhaustion. 

In that moment, Jane understood. Rest was just a pause. The struggles would still be waiting when she woke up. The darkness wasn’t just outside; it had seeped into her very being.

1986

She stood in a corner of a room, watching others dance. The music was loud. The lights flashed around her. She tried to enjoy herself, but unease knotted in her stomach. 

Then she looked up. Michael and William were together in another corner, too close for comfort. A hollow feeling twisted inside her. She crumpled the plastic cup that held her drink. 

That moment echoed her fears. She felt lost, trapped in a cycle of memories. She wanted to escape but knew she couldn’t. The struggle continued, whether she was awake or asleep.

And then it happened. They kissed. A wave of regret crashed over her. She had ignored her father’s warning. 

She stumbled out of the room, feeling weak. Her spirit felt fragile. She hoped Maxine had seen and would come to help her. 

Instead, a boy approached. He reached for her waist. She wanted to tell him to back off. But then she saw his blue eyes. They pierced through her, deep and unsettling. 

What was it about those eyes? They held secrets, promises, and something darker. She couldn’t look away. 

As the music pulsed around them, her heart raced. The room spun. She felt lost. This stranger had disrupted her world. 

Thoughts of Michael and William flooded her mind. Their kiss haunted her. 

The boy leaned closer. She could smell trouble. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low. 

She didn’t answer. What could she say? She was anything but okay. 

In that moment, she felt trapped. The weight of the night pressed down on her. Excitement, hurt, confusion—all mixed into one chaotic swirl.

Chapter Text

2000

Jane woke up, her mind racing. Why had that dream returned? She sat up on the slightly deflated air mattress and sighed. It reminded her of her uncomfortable situation—nothing felt certain.

As she made her way down the creaky stairs, each step felt tricky. The old wood groaned under her weight. She wondered how she’d manage to carry the mattress back up later. The thought of the wooden bed frame loomed large, and a heavy headache settled in.

She rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a pack of saltine crackers. That would have to do for breakfast. A lukewarm cup of tea joined the crackers. With a blank look, Jane surveyed the small living room and kitchen. The space felt heavy, filled with reminders of her past.

Suddenly, she spotted a familiar car pulling up across the street. It was her dad. A smile broke across her face as she watched him get out of the car. He wore a friendly expression, his cap hiding his thinning hair—a detail he was starting to worry about.

Jane quickly drank the last of her tea and headed for the door. She wanted to greet him properly. As she opened the door, warmth washed over her. She ran forward and embraced her dad tightly. His arms wrapped around her, offering the comfort she had been missing.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “How are you holding up?”

Jane hesitated. She searched for the right words. She didn’t want to burden him, but he could sense her struggle. 

“I’m managing,” she replied, her voice softer than she'd meant. “Just trying to figure everything out.”

His eyes softened. Jane saw the concern on his face. 

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he reminded her gently. “I’m here for you.”

That was the reassurance she needed. It was easy to forget, caught up in her thoughts, that she had support. A flicker of hope sparked within her. Maybe today could be the day she started to untangle the mess in her life.

As they caught up, Hopper helped Jane unpack boxes. He had brought a few gifts, including a shelf. Together, they placed several items Jane had brought along. 

“Daughter,” he called, prompting her to look up. “You’ve moved in now, but I was wondering… will you get married someday?”

Jane’s smile faded slightly. The idea of marriage hadn’t crossed her mind. It felt as distant as moving out when she was fifteen. 

“I haven’t had time to find a partner,” she said. “No one at my university has caught my eye. And, fortunately, I haven’t caught anyone's eye either.” 

She said the last part more to herself than to him.

Hopper smiled knowingly. “You need to find someone soon. Time will slip away, and you might miss out on having children while you’re young.” 

Jane didn’t like the sound of that. It wasn’t that she disliked the idea; it just didn’t fit into her plans. 

“There was a boy from your high school who liked you a lot,” Hopper said, trying to spark a memory. 

“Michael?” Jane thought of him, but he was just a shadow now. 

“No, not Michael. The other one. The boy with ash-blond hair.” 

Jim struggled to remember. 

“Henry,” Jane supplied. 

Jim nodded. “Henry, that boy.” 

They paused for a moment. The name hung in the air, a reminder of simpler times. 

“What about him?” Jane asked, curiosity creeping in. 

Hopper shrugged. “Just thought he seemed interested. You two had a connection, didn’t you?” 

Jane hesitated. “It was just a phase. High school crushes don’t mean much in the long run. I’m focused on my career now.” 

Hopper understood. Her ambition was strong, but he worried about her happiness. 

“Still, it might be nice to have someone special in your life,” he said gently. 

“I know, Dad. But right now, I’m not looking for that kind of relationship.” 

He respected her choice but felt concern. 

“Just remember, love can come when you least expect it,” he said. 

Jane smiled softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

They shifted back to unpacking. But the topic lingered. It reminded them that life was moving forward. So were they.

Jane remembered the boy clearly. Her eyes wandered to the horizon, where memories stirred. It was a night of laughter, but not for her. 

1896

Henry had rescued her that evening. She stood outside the party, heartbroken. She had just seen her boyfriend share a kiss with Will, her stepbrother. The betrayal hurt deeply. 

Henry led her to the soft grass of the yard. He cupped her face, his touch gentle yet firm. “Shhh… Shhh…” he whispered, like a parent soothing a child. For thirty minutes, he calmed her tears. 

Then he asked, “Do you like someone?” 

Jane almost said the truth, but paused. Could she still like someone after such lies? “No. Not anymore,” she replied. Doubt lingered. She knew her feelings for Wheeler would fade. They would turn bitter, maybe even into resentment.

Henry wrapped his arms around her. It felt different from Michael’s embrace. It sent chills down her spine. This moment was unique. 

As Jane sat there, she felt the weight of heartbreak but also a flicker of hope. Henry’s presence was a comfort in her chaos. The night wasn't over. Secrets hung in the air. Change was coming.

Chapter Text

2000

Jane turned the shower knob. Icy water blasted her. She gasped. A shiver zipped through her. The cold stung, but she held her ground. At least it was warm outside. A cold shower felt okay in the hot sun.

She left the bathroom door ajar. This was new. Living alone felt freeing. A small act of rebellion. What if she stepped out completely naked? The thought thrilled her, but she shook it off.

As the water warmed, she grabbed a soapy sponge. The chill faded, replaced by a refreshing feel. She scrubbed off the grime from a long day of unpacking boxes. Unpacking was tough. Each box held pieces of her past. Some memories were treasures. Others felt like weights.

Sweat clung to her skin, a reminder of her hard work. Now, with water cascading over her, she felt released. With every pass of the sponge, she inhaled deeply. Steam filled her lungs. The routine of daily life took on fresh meaning.

This was her space. Her sanctuary.

Jane stood in the bathroom. Her heart raced. A muffled sound had caught her attention. It was a faint groan. Curious, she turned the doorknob. The noise stopped.

Puzzled, she raised an eyebrow. She moved closer to the tiled wall and pressed her cheek against the cold surface. Silence.

After her shower, a nagging thought lingered. Why hadn’t she grabbed a towel? Her room was upstairs. The distance felt heavier now. Was she alone? The quiet seemed to mock her.

As she dried off, she weighed her options. The sound had felt alive, almost calling her. Should she call out? Knock on the wall? The bathroom felt strangely still.

Taking a deep breath, Jane stepped out of the shower. Each step toward the door felt heavy. What if it was nothing? Or worse, what if it was something?

The question echoed in her mind. What had she heard?

A short while later, Jane walked down to the living room. Something felt off. A strange tension hung in the air, like unseen eyes watching her. She shook it off, telling herself the odd noise she’d heard earlier was just a rat nest that had snuck in, avoiding the traps set by the previous owner. 

Still, unease crept in. She grabbed the landline from the mantelpiece. With a few clicks, she dialed the real estate agent’s number. The phone rang, shattering the silence. Moments later, a brisk voice answered, clear and direct. Jane needed answers.

The call was quick. The agent mentioned that the noises in the walls could be from rats. These creatures, she insisted, could thrive anywhere. Warm wooden walls? Perfect for them. Jane’s heart raced. The idea of rodents skittering behind her walls sent a shiver down her spine. She tried to push the thought away, but it lingered.

Then memories invaded her mind. A conversation with her father surfaced. Had Henry really been a good match? A good guy? The thought that he might have feelings for her felt heavy. If that were true, she had failed by not pursuing anything with him. 

Why did this bother her so much? It was like having a gold trophy right in front of her and not reaching for it. The idea gnawed at her. A missed opportunity. The weight of what could have been pressed hard on her chest. 

She shook her head, trying to clear the confusion. Focus, Jane. Focus on the present. The walls still creaked. The rats still crawled.

1986

Henry sat in the school cafeteria. The noise around him was overwhelming. Laughter, chatter, and distant conversations swirled like a storm. It felt like he had built invisible walls to keep everyone out. A fortress of silent hostility surrounded him.

That moment shattered when a familiar boy approached. Will.

“Hi,” he said, his voice cutting through Henry's solitude. 

Henry glanced at Will as he took a seat beside him. It felt like if he used a needle to pierce the fragile bubble Henry had created. 

Henry didn’t respond. Instead, he shot Will a glare. A glare that could burn. In that instant, he wished he could transform into a black widow spider. He wanted to sink his fangs into Will, to make him disappear. The urge to erase Will from his sight was strong. 

But Henry remained silent. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out.

“You always seem so alone,” Will said, masking his intrusion with a friendly tone. “I’ve seen you talk to my sister a few times. Who are you?”

Henry's mind raced. He had sharp comebacks lined up. “Your mom,” he thought bitterly. The urge to lash out was strong. But he held back. 

Above all, he valued his dignity. He wouldn't let rudeness chip away at his image. 

He sat in silence, considering his choices. He could ignore Will and let the tension grow. Or he could engage. But at what cost? 

Will was a reminder of social ties Henry wanted to avoid. The cafeteria buzzed with life around them. Friends laughed, shared secrets. Meanwhile, Henry felt like a ghost. 

A part of him wanted to scream, to break free. But that wasn’t who he was. He preferred to keep chaos at bay and stay composed. 

Yet, Will’s presence was a nagging reminder. Isolation could only last so long. 

Chapter Text

2000

Jane sat at the table. She picked up the package of pills, feeling the cool plastic against her fingertips. This wasn’t just a routine; it was a daily treatment. She needed to take it at the same hour every day. 

Holding the second box, she counted the thirty capsules. They would carry her through another month.

She opened the box, crinkling foil breaking the silence. Her heart raced. Each pill was a small step toward managing her condition. But it also reminded her of the struggle she faced.

She paused, staring at the small, white capsule in her hand. It symbolized hope. And discipline. Missing a day wasn’t an option. She placed the eighteenth pill on her tongue and chased it with a sip of water. The cool liquid washed over her throat, leaving a slight taste of chlorine. It was a fleeting moment of relief amidst the tension. 

This small act felt monumental. She was choosing to fight against her problem.

Once again, she found herself alone. Jim had left early yesterday morning. With each passing hour, the weight of solitude dug deeper into her soul.

The silence felt heavy. It wrapped around her like a thick fog. It dulls her senses and amplifies her thoughts. She hated this feeling. Being alone for too long gnawed at her. It was a slow, creeping despair. It made her question everything. 

The walls of her home, usually familiar and comforting, now felt like a prison. Each tick of the clock echoed in her ears. It was a constant reminder of the time stretching endlessly ahead.

But there was a flicker of hope. She held onto a goal: securing a job as a university math professor. That job would not just provide a paycheck. It would give her a purpose. 

She imagined her days filled with structure and interaction. The thought of standing in front of a classroom excited her. Sharing knowledge and igniting curiosity in students was something she yearned for. 

She clung to that dream. It was her light in the darkness.

Jane heard it again. Soft scratching sounds seeped through her walls. They made her skin crawl. Rats. The thought of them lurking in her home sent a chill down her spine. 

What if they came out one night? What if they bit her? Images raced through her mind: rabies, pain, and death. Panic gripped her heart. She bit her lip, a childhood habit. Her father had always been protective. 

She recalled his stories about rats. One night, he shot one in the attic. The memory was vivid. The rat had exploded, leaving a mess. She shivered at that thought. Was that her future? A bite? A disease? 

Memories of her father's bravado felt distant, like whispers in a storm. She longed for his strength and comfort. But the walls felt like they were closing in.

In the silence, the scratching grew louder. It was relentless. Each sound echoed in her mind, mixing with her fears. Should she call him? Would he laugh? Would he think she was being silly?

But the fear was real. It clawed at her, just like the unseen creatures clawed at the wood.

1986

It was Friday. Henry left school and headed to the forest. He needed to clear his mind. The noise of his classmates still buzzed in his head.

The fresh air and the smell of wood wrapped around him. Each breath felt like a cleanse. But today was different. William insisted on coming along.

Henry couldn’t stand William. He was too eager, too loud. Always trying to get Henry’s attention. It drove him crazy. In the quiet of the forest, William’s chatter felt like an unwelcome guest.

Henry often thought about people. He disliked the noise they made. The constant need to connect felt suffocating. People talked too much and shared too much. They cluttered the world with their small worries.

He believed the world would be better without such distractions. A place where silence ruled. Where thoughts could wander without interruption.

Then there was William. His endless cheerfulness grated on Henry’s nerves. Why couldn’t he just be quiet? Why did he have to poke and prod, trying to get a reaction?  

Henry’s mind turned dark. He imagined a life away from people. No more chatter. In that moment, he felt a rush of power. The thought of isolating himself was tempting.

But William's presence reminded him of what he wanted to escape. As the trees closed in, shadows deepened. Henry took a deep breath. He braced himself against the annoyance beside him.

Henry walked next to William, but his mind was elsewhere. William’s chatter felt trivial. The topics were boring. Each word reminded Henry of his loneliness. At sixteen, he could only think of one friend—Patty. They had a short romance at thirteen, but that faded away.

Then there was Jane. William’s step-sister. She was different. She had a spark. When she laughed, it felt like music. Henry was drawn to her. He longed for her gaze, a smile, a secret shared. But how could he tell her?

So, he listened to William. He nodded, pretending to care, while his mind raced with thoughts of Jane. She was a mystery. What was she thinking? Did she ever notice him? These questions haunted him. They filled the silence that William’s voice couldn’t break. 

He glanced at William. Did he know? Did he sense Henry's feelings? Henry felt trapped. The world around them faded. He wanted to be open with Jane, but fear of rejection loomed larger than his feelings. 

Every moment with William felt like a distraction. A reminder of the connection he craved but couldn’t reach. Jane was there, and he was here—stuck in this loop of longing. 

This tension created an electric charge in the air. Would he ever find the courage to speak up? With each step, the question grew heavier. The uncertainty lingered. 

The only thing clear was his desire for Jane. It made everything else fade into the background.

Chapter Text

1986

It was Saturday. Henry stood at Jane's doorstep. The early morning light barely broke through the trees. 

Jane, still groggy, saw him from her bedroom window on the second floor. Henry's presence at six in the morning was jarring. It felt strange and unsettling. Saturdays were usually quiet—a time to sleep in. Hopper wasn’t home; he was working a full shift this week.

Jane took a deep breath and walked down the stairs. She opened the door, unsure of what to expect. 

“Henry?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Many questions raced through her mind, but she chose the simplest one. “Why are you here so early?” 

She managed a nervous laugh, hoping to ease the tension. 

Henry smiled, but it was different. It hinted at mischief. He extended his hand, closing it into a fist. When he opened it, a small spider rested in his palm. 

Jane gasped and stepped back. 

“Why do you have that?!” she exclaimed, fear and curiosity mixing in her voice. 

“This is Elizabeth,” Henry replied calmly, as if introducing an old friend. 

Jane blinked, caught off guard. A name for a spider? Was he serious? 

“That’s a black widow,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Isn’t that dangerous?” 

“Yes, but if you handle her properly, she won’t harm you,” he explained, his tone steady. 

“Why would you show me this?” Jane’s mind raced. “You know I’m not a fan of spiders.” 

“I want you to see them differently,” Henry said. “I want you to admire them, not fear them.” 

Jane shook her head slowly. “I appreciate nature from a distance,” she said firmly. “Admiration is one thing; sharing space with a widow is another.” 

Henry chuckled softly. “I get that. But think about it. They’re fascinating creatures. They play a part in our ecosystem. Wouldn’t it be a shame to only see them as something to fear?” 

She paused, contemplating his words. She could see the conviction in his eyes. “I guess,” she said hesitantly. “But I still prefer to keep my distance.” 

“That’s fair,” he nodded, still holding Elizabeth gently. “Just don’t forget that beauty can be found in the unexpected.” 

Jane took a deep breath. The tension eased slightly. Maybe there was something to what he said. But for now, she still needed her space.

A few minutes later, Henry stepped into Jane’s house. He took a deep breath. A strange comfort washed over him. Unlike the outside world, which often felt cold and distant, everything here felt familiar. 

He wandered through the living room. Soft light glowed from the lamps. The air carried a faint scent of vanilla and wood, reminding him of warm cookies baking. It felt cozy. It felt safe. 

He thought of Jane. He imagined her laughter echoing in these walls, her smile brightening the space. For a brief moment, he thought of the house as a small Garden of Eden—a peaceful escape from the chaos of high school. 

Then a thought hit him. What if Jane were his...? But the idea felt strange. He stopped and shook his head. That thought was wrong. He pushed it away, trying to stay in the moment. 

“Hey, you okay?” Jane's voice broke through his thoughts. She stood at the doorway, looking curious. 

“Yeah,” he replied, forcing a smile. “Just… thinking.” 

“About what?” she asked, stepping closer. Her eyes sparkled with interest. 

Henry hesitated. Should he share his thoughts? “Just how nice it is here,” he finally said. “It feels... relaxing.” 

Jane laughed. “This? Just a normal living room. Nothing special.” 

“Yeah,” he said, glancing around again. “But I find it relaxing anyway.” 

As they settled into the moment, Henry realized how much he wanted to be a part of her world. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy being here, in this space, with Jane.

Henry sat on Jane’s worn couch. His eyes were closed, lost in thought. The air was thick with the smell of old books and something sweet from the kitchen. He was meant to enjoy their time together, but his mind wandered. Why did he feel this way? 

It wasn't that he disliked being with Jane. Quite the opposite. There was something about her that drew him in. He tried to figure it out. Her laughter was bright, but it hid a shadow. Her voice had a lightness, yet it felt like a mask. He noticed it in their conversations. Sometimes, her smile lingered a bit too long before fading.

He recalled how her classmates treated her. The whispers. The glances. He could see the impact in her eyes. Henry felt she was holding something back. He understood that struggle. Their lives were different, but they shared a common pain. 

It was a silent bond. A connection formed in the quiet moments when the world fell away. He opened his eyes and took in the small details around him. Each one was a part of her.

Then it hit him. What he liked about Jane was her complexity. Beneath her playful exterior was a depth he recognized. A softness shaped by the harshness of high school. She was fighting her own battles, just like he was. 

Henry leaned back and felt the weight of his thoughts. He wanted to reach out, to tell her she wasn’t alone. Maybe they could navigate their worlds together. In that moment, he realized his feelings for Jane went beyond admiration. 

It was a silent promise to stand by her. To share the burden of their secrets.

Chapter Text

2000

Jane stood frozen in front of the wall. Her Sunday routine had been cut short. Just moments ago, she had been lost in the familiar comforts of the weekend. 

Then, an unsettling sound broke through. Scratches. Hushed voices. This was no ordinary noise. It was a human whisper, sharp and clear. This felt like an invasion, not just mice.

Pressing her ear against the cold surface, she knocked lightly with her knuckles. The gap between the outer wall and the inside was at least thirty centimeters. A strange mix of curiosity and fear gripped her. She moved slowly toward a small wooden door set in the wall. With each step, her heart raced. It pounded in her chest like a trapped animal.

Fear wrapped around her. It was both suffocating and thrilling. Drawing a deep breath, Jane's fingers tightened around the doorknob. With a push, she opened it, driven by a desperate need to know.

Darkness rushed in, heavy and thick. She fumbled in her pocket for a small flashlight. When she flicked the switch, the beam cut through the blackness. It revealed a shadowy figure standing still before her.

“Jane…” A voice slithered through the air, sending chills down her spine.

In an instant, the figure lunged at her, wild and frantic. Panic surged within her. She stumbled backward, heart racing, breath stuttering.

Suddenly, Jane jolted awake, screaming. It was three in the morning. She lay in the attic room, drenched in cold sweat, gasping for air. The remnants of her nightmare lingered, an echo that left her heart pounding in the stillness.

Jane woke up. The sheets clung to her skin. She shuffled to the kitchen, craving a midnight snack.

The refrigerator door creaked open. Cool air washed over her. She searched the shelves, looking for something comforting. A midnight snack felt necessary. It distracted her from the unsettling thought that her nightmare might be closer to reality than she wanted to admit.

Suddenly, her phone erupted with a sharp ring. It sliced through the silence. Jane jumped. Her heart raced. The house felt alive, filled with a sinister energy. Panic surged through her. She grabbed a Bible from the side table, clutching it tightly. It seemed absurd, but it offered a tiny bit of comfort.

She scanned the room. Her eyes darted around, catching shadows that danced mockingly. She fought to calm her racing thoughts. Minutes dragged on. She considered fleeing, escaping the confining walls of her home. 

Then, an idea struck her. What if she pitched her bed on the lawn? She could bask under the harsh glow of streetlights. The thought made her shudder. She felt sick. Trapped in this waking nightmare.

After a long pause, she finally checked her phone. Her heart hammered in her chest. Three missed calls from Michael stared back at her. His name brought a strange mix of relief and confusion. Why hadn’t she heard the ring? It was unusual for her to ignore a call, especially now.

Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. With trembling fingers, she dialed him back, hoping to find comfort in his voice, even as dread lingered in her thoughts.

Michael replied in less than ten seconds. A thought crossed Jane's mind—was he drunk? Three strange calls in the early morning raised suspicion.

Then he said her name. “Jane.” It hit her like a shock. A mix of rejection and curiosity swirled inside her. Part of her wanted to hang up. But something in his voice pulled her in. 

“What’s going on? It’s three in the morning.” Her voice was low, but her curiosity was loud. 

“I know... I know... Jane... please.” He sounded almost broken. “Can we meet tomorrow?”

“...Why?”

“... I miss you... hic... so much.” The hiccup confirmed her fears. She could almost smell the alcohol on him, even from miles away.

The next morning, nerves twisted in Jane's stomach. She pinched her clothes while pacing. She had scrubbed every corner of her house. Sweeping, mopping, cleaning the kitchen and bathroom. Vacuuming the rugs and spraying air freshener to hide any lingering smells.

Now, she stood in the kitchen. Should she order pizza or cook? She hesitated to ask Michael what he wanted. Embarrassment washed over her. Admitting she missed him felt like admitting weakness. 

Homemade it was: sautéed beef and rice. Simple and tasty. Presentable but not too fancy. Nothing that showed her feelings.

When the doorbell rang, her heart raced. She jolted. Quickly, she put on a smile, trying to hide the mix of excitement and worry. 

It was time. Time to face the emotions she had tried to ignore.

Chapter Text

2000

Michael greeted her with a humble smile. Life had clearly left its mark on him. He looked like someone who had faced many hurdles. In his hands was a long cardboard gift bag. Jane guessed it contained either wine or perfume.

They embraced. She kept her excitement in check as he wrapped his arms around her. Suddenly, he kissed her neck. She pulled back, heat flooding her cheeks. She tried to act as if nothing had happened. Jane led him inside, her mind racing. That kiss—it stirred both desire and confusion. 

“Is something wrong?” she asked softly, almost hesitantly.

Michael sighed deeply. He sank into the living room couch. His posture showed the weight of his thoughts. “You know… I miss you.”

Jane struggled to grasp the vulnerability in his voice. Was this real? “What do you mean?” she blinked, trying to hide the thrill his words sparked within her. They shook her to her core. 

“Jane, I know I’ve been foolish. I can’t keep doing this. I feel lost. I thought we had something solid. Will and I have had our rough patches. You know the saying: what starts off badly usually ends badly. But… I miss you, Jane. I can’t explain it, but I love you.”

She wanted to shout that she loved him too. His grand confession was supposed to lead to that. But something felt off. A warning stirred inside her. A hollow ache settled in her chest. She needed to be careful.

“Let me think about it,” she said. Her voice was steady, but her heart raced.

Michael frowned. He tilted his head, as if her words didn’t register. “Let you think about it? Are you seeing someone else?”

He stood up abruptly, moving closer. His intensity sent a chill down her spine. The air felt charged. Her heart pounded in her throat.

“No, it’s not like that,” she protested. Her palms were sweaty. “I just need time.”

“Time?” His voice sliced through the silence. Each word dripped with disbelief. “Time for what? To figure out if you want me?”

The atmosphere thickened. Jane felt the weight of his gaze. The urgency in his tone pushed her to speak. But she wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Michael, it’s complicated,” she managed. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Complicated?” he echoed, frustration clear in his stance. “You think I’m not worth the risk?”

She opened her mouth. Words danced in her mind, but fear held her back. Fear of what this all meant. Fear of falling again.

“Just… give me a moment,” she pleaded. She hoped he would understand.

"Are you seeing someone? Really Jane?" He asked like it was something unacceptable.

“No, no… what does my personal life matter to you? We haven’t seen each other in ages—”

Michael cut her off sharply. “It matters! We had something, Jane. You can’t pretend that nothing ever existed between us.” His voice was intense, a mix of passion and anger that crackled in the air between them.

Jane felt the heat of his words wash over her, but instead of drawing her closer, they pushed her away. “You think I love you? You think I can’t deny it?” she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness. “Why are you acting like this? Are you reaching out because things went south with Will? Is that it?”

She stepped back, her heart pounding, her breath hitching. Each word felt like a stab. “I’m just your backup, aren’t I? A temporary fix until you find what you really want.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. The room felt heavy, charged with unspoken emotions. The silence that followed was deafening. It was a moment filled with unresolved tension, and both knew it.

Michael's gaze softened, but it didn’t ease the storm inside her. “I never meant for you to feel that way,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

But Jane shook her head.

“You can’t just come back into my life and expect everything to be fine. You can’t claim to care when it suits you.”

The weight of their past hung thick between them, each memory a reminder of what had been and what could never be again.

Things went south. Michael stood there, eyes flitting around like a trapped animal. Finally, he spoke. “I have to go, but here’s my number, just in case.” 

For Jane, those words hit hard. It felt like he had ripped apart her hopes of rekindling what they once had. Now, she was left with a lifeline he might never want to grasp. Tension hung thick in the air. 

Was anything real? Had his feelings ever meant anything? Or was it all a mask for his fear of being alone? Anger surged through her. She could see the future. If she forgave him and tried again, it would end the same way. Will would call, and Michael would drop her like a hot potato.

“Why do you always do this?” she wanted to shout. But she bit her tongue instead. The taste of anger lingered.

There was too much to do. Energy spent on this would lead nowhere. She inhaled deeply. Focus. The world outside kept moving, unaware of her inner chaos.

She had to push ahead. Even if it felt like dragging an anchor behind her.

Chapter Text

2000

Finally, it was Monday. Jane had landed a cashier job at a supermarket. She had sent her resume to nearly every local school, but none had called her back for a math teacher position. Since childhood, her only dream had been to teach math. Numbers came easily to her. She had earned several A's and received praise from her teachers, especially from Jim, who had been her biggest supporter.

At twenty-nine, nearing thirty, she felt a pang of disappointment. Yet, she pushed that bitterness aside. She focused instead on the customers in front of her, ringing up their groceries, the beeping of the scanner matching the rhythm of her racing thoughts. 

After a grueling first day, Jane returned home at ten o'clock, fatigue weighing heavily on her shoulders. She barely noticed the odd stillness in her house. After a quick shower, she descended to the kitchen, craving a warm cup of milk to help her sleep. But as she approached the window, the sight froze her in place. A shadow loomed in her backyard. 

Her heart raced. The milk nearly slipped from her hands as she choked on it, the liquid spilling onto the floor. Panic surged through her, and she felt a rush of cold air sweep through her legs. 

“Hello?” she called, her voice trembling. No response. 

The silhouette remained motionless, as if it were waiting for something. She strained her eyes, trying to make out the figure.

“Who’s there?” she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper. The silence that followed was deafening.

Just then, the figure stepped closer, revealing just enough to send shivers down her spine. A chill ran through her, and she felt the weight of dread settle in her gut.

With trembling hands, she reached for her phone, heart pounding in her chest. She needed to call someone—anyone. But that shadow, it felt like it was pulling her into darkness, and she couldn't look away.

Jane looked up from her phone. Her heart raced. The figure in her yard was gone. Panic gripped her throat. She sprinted up the stairs. Each step echoed in the quiet house. The air was thick with fear.

She slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it. The small space felt suffocating. No windows made her feel trapped. Her heartbeat pounded like a drum. Gripping her phone, she fumbled to turn it on. Each second felt like an hour. Why was everything moving so slowly? It drove her mad.

Finally, the screen lit up. She tapped in nine-one-one. Desperation twisted her voice. Bringing the phone to her ear, she took shaky breaths. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” The operator's steady voice cut through her chaos.

“There’s a man in my yard!” Jane shouted, her voice breaking. The words rushed out, raw and frantic. “Stay calm. Can you describe him?” the operator asked. Her tone was professional, firm.

“I-I didn’t see his face,” Jane stammered. “He was… lurking. Just standing there. I don’t know what he wants!”

“Is he still there?”

“I don’t know! I just ran! Please, you have to help me!”

“Help is on the way. Stay on the line.”

Jane pressed her back against the cool bathroom wall. The reality hit hard. She was trapped in a windowless room. Her only connection to the outside was the phone at her ear. The shadows felt like they were closing in.

1986

The shadows closed in around Jane. Weeks had slipped by since Michael ended things. Without Henry, she would be alone. He had stepped in as her emotional anchor. He shared lunch with her. Always ready to listen. She vented her frustrations and fears to him. When he looked at her, it felt like she was a Da Vinci masterpiece. Every word she spoke painted a picture of her life. Her struggles and fleeting joys were like abstract art. Only Henry could appreciate it fully.

That afternoon, Henry wasn’t in math class. She understood. Life had its demands. She waved goodbye at four o'clock. That small gesture felt heavier than it should.

Twenty minutes later, Jane entered the classroom. The clock ticked on. By six, the class ended. She didn’t expect anyone to be waiting for her. Not even Jim. After all, she knew her way home.

But as she stepped outside, her heart raced. Michael leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He was an imposing figure in the dim light. Her heart skipped a beat. She craved Henry's warmth, his protective presence. She didn’t realize how much she depended on him.

As she stepped outside, her heart raced. There stood Michael, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. The dim light cast shadows across his face. Her breath caught. She missed Henry’s warmth. She didn’t realize how much she depended on him.

“Jane,” Michael called. His voice cut through the chilly air. She blinked, startled.

“...Yes?”

“Stay away from him.” His tone held urgency as he moved closer. “From who?” Confusion etched her features. 

“From Henry.” The suspicion in his voice was clear. “He’s... strange. He gives me bad vibes.”

A chill crept up her spine, but she didn’t respond. Michael closed the distance. His eyes were intense. “I saw him the other day in the woods. He was touching a dead deer—bare hands, Jane. And he keeps crows as pets. Who keeps crows as pets?” His voice dropped, thick with concern. “Trust me, stay away from him.”

The air felt heavy. Jane’s mind whirled. Was Michael overreacting? Did Henry really pose a threat? Shadows stretched around them, echoing her doubts. Her heart ached for Henry, yet Michael’s words weighed heavily on her.

“Just listen to me,” Michael urged, desperation creeping in. “I’m worried about you.”

“I can handle myself,” she replied, though her voice wavered. Michael’s gaze softened, but he held firm. “This isn’t just about you. It’s about your safety. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Jane looked away. She was caught in a whirlwind of feelings. On one side, there was comfort with Henry. On the other, Michael's warning echoed in her ears. It felt like a tightrope walk. One wrong step could change everything.

“Promise me,” Michael said, moving closer. His voice was urgent. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I… I promise,” she replied softly. Doubt was a heavy weight in her chest. 

As she walked away, uncertainty clung to her. She turned back. Michael’s worried face was hard to ignore. Her heart tugged her toward Henry, but Michael's warning loomed large. It filled her with doubt. She felt trapped. What should she do?

Chapter Text

2000

The police showed up. They didn’t look too interested. It was late. Shadows filled the space, clinging to corners where anxiety hung. Crime rates were climbing. To the officers, checking on a possible intruder seemed like a waste of time.

No signs of forced entry. No broken doors. Everything looked untouched. Even the lawn was clean, glimmering under the moon. They brushed her off. "You’re just stressed," they said. "Get some sleep."

Their words stung. It felt like they dismissed her fears as nothing more than tired thoughts. She fought back tears. Anger and sadness mixed inside her. How could they ignore what was happening? They were supposed to protect people. That was their job. Even if the threat was just in her mind, she deserved better.

The officers left, and the door clicked shut. Now, she was alone. The silence? It felt heavy. Every creak in the house was a reminder of their absence.

She could feel the weight of their failure pressing down. Left alone, she had to face her fears. Safety? It felt like a lie. Anxiety wrapped around her, getting tighter with every second.

Jane’s mind spun in circles. Dread took over. Thoughts crashed together, sharp and painful.

She thought about running to a hotel for the night. Just to escape. But then reality hit. Her finances were hanging by a thread.

She turned on her phone. The light cut through the darkness, revealing her anxious face. She opened the call app but paused. Michael’s name flashed in her mind. He had offered help before. But calling him felt like swallowing glass.

They were strangers now. The thought of reaching out twisted her stomach.

Yet, another thought nagged at her. Someone was lurking in her home. The idea of facing the night alone sent chills down her spine. She needed company, even if it was unwanted. With Michael, at least she wouldn’t be completely alone. He could keep watch while she slept.

The thought of sharing her space made her uneasy. Just then, her phone pinged. A simple "hi" from him. It felt like a spark in the dark. Her heart raced. 

Would she dare to reply? Would he even come?

Michael’s “hi” was short and hesitant. He seemed to be checking if she was awake. His voice felt flat, lacking warmth.

“Michael, are you awake?” she asked, her heart racing.

“Yes, are you? Do you need anything?” His reply came back quickly. Too quickly.

That “do you need anything” hung in the air. To Jane, it felt like an invitation. But really, it was a lifeline.

“Please come, I’m scared. I’ll explain later,” she typed. Her fingers trembled over the keys.

The fear twisted her stomach. Vulnerability clawed at her insides. She hated feeling this way, especially around him.

Memories hit her hard. Betrayal. Broken trust. Those feelings echoed in her mind. Doubt crept in. Was he genuine this time? Or was this another trick?

Outside, the wind howled. Windows rattled. Shadows flickered in the dim light. She waited, feeling the darkness close in. It felt like a heavy blanket, suffocating her. Each second dragged on.

Unease grew inside her. It was a painful reminder of what had happened before. Her heart raced. She had to find out if he was trustworthy again. Or was she walking into another trap?

1986

On Monday morning, Will walked into school. His face was pale, like he had just come out of a nightmare. Michael was the first to notice. Concern flashed in his eyes. “What happened?” he asked. Will just looked away. 

There was a heaviness in the air. A secret clung to Will like a shadow. Someone had hurt him. The pain was too heavy for him to share.

During recess, Jane saw the turmoil in Will. She felt it, a tension that wrapped around her heart. Henry sat next to her. His face showed mischief, but there was something darker in his eyes. “Don’t let others walk all over you,” he said, his voice low, almost like he was sharing a secret. 

Jane raised an eyebrow. Skepticism washed over her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, her curiosity mixing with unease.

Henry paused. He enjoyed her confusion. It gave him a sense of power, a twisted thrill. He liked knowing he had stirred something in Jane. This wasn't about being nice; it was about control.

The bell rang. But Jane couldn't shake off the silence from Will. She wanted to protect him. Yet, Henry's influence wrapped around her like a thick fog. This world was harsh. Here, weakness was exploited. She began to grasp the rules of Henry's game.

Each word from him felt like a knife. Sharp. Precise. They sliced through the uncertainty between them. 

As the day dragged on, Will's pain echoed in her mind. What had happened to him? Why was he silent? The darkness of the school loomed over her. It reminded her that sometimes, silence speaks louder than words.

Chapter Text

2000

Michael drove fast to Jane's house. Dark circles under his eyes showed he hadn’t slept well. He looked tired, but his hair was neat. At least he tried to look presentable.

He parked under a big tree. Its branches shielded him from the bright streetlights. As he stepped out of the car, the weight of the night pressed down on him. Each step toward the wooden gate felt heavy. The air was thick with tension.

He paused and glanced over the fence. A frayed piece of fabric caught his eye. It was snagged on a sharp wire. Blood stained the cloth, a dark red against the dull metal. A chill ran down his spine. He imagined the pain someone must have felt. That thought twisted in his stomach.

The door creaked open. Jane stepped in. The sound of her keys jingled loudly in the quiet night. For a moment, her face brightened. But then, she saw Michael's tense expression.

He walked toward her, urgency in every step. When they finally met, they embraced tightly. It was as if they wanted to shield themselves from everything outside. The world around them faded, yet unease lingered. A dark cloud hung over their reunion.

“I thought you were asleep,” she whispered, her voice soft. She leaned her forehead against his shirt, searching for comfort.

“I have to work from dawn until eleven,” he said. His voice was steady, but weariness showed through.

A tense pause filled the air. 

“I saw something strange at the gate,” he said, her eyes widened with fear. 

He held up a piece of fabric. It was stained with dark, dried blood. The sight was chilling. Jane grimaced. Her stomach twisted.

“It’s dry,” He managed to say, and Jane tried to hide her unease.

“I know,” he replied, aiming to calm her growing panic. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not serious.”

“I’m really scared, Mike. Someone entered my yard,” she stammered. Her voice trembled, dread leaking into every word.

The night felt heavy. Shadows loomed closer, as if they were listening in on their conversation.

“Are you sure it wasn’t one of your neighbors?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

Her fear felt overwhelming. But why? They lived in a small complex with just six houses. Wooden fences divided them, almost like thin walls sharing secrets. 

Silence hung heavy in the air. Outside, darkness seemed to breathe. It wrapped around the house, pressing in. Each creak of the floorboards echoed, magnifying her anxiety.

“Why would they do that?” she replied, her voice shaking.

Suddenly, doubt crept in. What if Michael was right? A chilling thought crossed her mind. What if a neighbor had slipped in? Maybe they had a foldable ladder. The idea chilled her.

“I have no idea,” he said. His voice was steady yet soft. He stroked her back gently. “But it’s one possibility.”

“Do you want me to sleep… with you? I mean… in your living room…” He tripped over his words. His emotions were too strong.

“Yes… I’ll grab an air mattress. You can sleep on it while I take the couch,” she said. She needed to feel in control amid the chaos.

“No way. You take the air mattress, and I’ll take the couch. You need the rest more than I do,” he argued. He smiled sweetly, a stark contrast to the tension hanging between them.

He reached out, fingers brushing against Jane's cheek. The touch was gentle. She didn’t pull away. Inside, something stirred. Loneliness felt like a heavy blanket. She craved warmth. She wanted companionship.

A storm brewed inside her. She wanted to give Michael another shot. But their past was like a deep wound. Healing takes time. Time she wasn’t sure she had.

Hope flickered. But uncertainty loomed large. The night felt endless. It was heavy with unspoken fears and fragile desires. 

Would this moment draw them closer? Or would the shadows of their past keep them apart?

1986

For Jane, dealing with the situation was tough. Each day weighed her down more than the one before. It felt like a tight grip on her heart.

Then came Henry. He became an unlikely ally. They started to bond, sharing moments that were both odd and reassuring. Jane would bring him sweets. Small gifts to say thank you.

In return, he had his own way of showing appreciation—dead spiders. At first, she thought it was a joke. Just his quirky way of being affectionate.

But then the reality hit her. He was serious about it. The laughter faded, replaced by unease.

She accepted the gifts with a smile. But inside? She cringed. Dead spiders in her pockets? That thought made her skin crawl.

She tossed them away, one by one. Each throw felt like a silent rejection. A reminder of the unease hiding beneath the surface of their bond.

Still, Jane held on. She cherished the moments they shared. Henry brought a strange comfort. In a world that felt dark, his presence felt warm.

Yet, the tokens he gave her unsettled her. She was drawn to him, but the gifts made her uneasy. This push and pull created turmoil inside her. Gratitude battled dread. Each day was a struggle.

During class, Jane had to pair up with someone. Will was absent that day. So, Michael sat alone in the corner. Uncertainty loomed over him.

Henry eyed another student, someone strong in languages. He wanted to avoid the awkwardness of being left out. Jane noticed this. She didn’t want to be greedy or hog anyone’s attention.

The classroom buzzed with chatter and laughter. It felt alive, yet there was tension in the air. Unspoken thoughts floated around, accompanied by hidden glances.

Then, Jane felt a warm, hesitant touch against her hand. It was Michael. She turned to him, curiosity battling with a hint of fear. Michael tried to show confidence, but his poker face was shaky. His nervousness peeked through.

“Do you want to team up?” he asked softly. His voice barely broke the quiet.

Jane paused. She looked around. Classmates had already paired off. Laughter bounced off the walls. Even Maxine, her best friend, was lost in a moment with Lucas. Their smiles felt bright, almost blinding. 

But Jane felt a storm brewing inside her.

The silence hung heavy. She could feel the pressure of the decision weighing on her. It was tough. But then, she glanced into Michael's eyes.

There it was. A flicker of hope. A plea for connection. 

Could this be her chance?

She nodded. For a moment, everything outside disappeared. Michael smiled, warmth radiating from him. There was a spark in his eyes.

In that instant, the noise of the classroom faded. It was just the two of them. They were caught in a fragile moment. It felt deep, meaningful.

Chapter Text

2000

Michael lay on the couch. An hour passed. Sleep just wouldn’t come. His body had adjusted to being awake at night. The darkness loomed around him, filled with shadows and soft sounds.

Jane was close by. Just inches away. He couldn’t help but look at her. She was curled up on the inflatable mattress. The dim light from the curtains softened her features.

Her face usually told a story. Tonight, it was calm. He loved this sight. It felt special, like a rare gift. Her brow, often tense with worry, was now smooth. In this quiet moment, the burdens she carried seemed to vanish. 

This peace was something he wanted to hold on to.

Michael glanced at her. How long had it been since she truly rested? Days? Weeks? A pang of sorrow hit him hard. He had watched her struggle. Late nights, tossing and turning. Battling her own thoughts.

Each sigh she released echoed in his mind. It was a reminder of her exhaustion. He wanted to reach out. To comfort her. But he hesitated. He didn’t want to disturb this delicate moment.

So, he let his thoughts wander. The room was still. Almost heavy with silence. The only sound was her soft breathing. It felt like a shared experience. Their struggles, their battles, intertwined.

In that quiet space, a promise took shape in Michael’s heart. He would do whatever it took to help her find peace again. No matter the cost.

Michael looked up at the ceiling. Moonlight streamed in, softly filtered by his curtains. He could barely see his surroundings, but it didn't matter. 

As he stared at that blank canvas above, painful memories surged. Each flicker of light reminded him of every mistake he made with her. In this solitude, a realization began to stir within him. It felt like a long-overdue truth rising to the surface.

He faced a hard truth: he had been a coward. He still wanted her. Why? He couldn't grasp that. Admitting it felt overwhelming.

Time had changed Jane. She blossomed into something beautiful, something profound. She was more than he ever imagined. He remembered their laughter, the dreams they built, and those quiet moments filled with unspoken love.

That image of her clashed with his own stuck life. He felt trapped in regret. Stagnation surrounded him. But this realization lit a spark. A flicker of hope. Maybe he could gather the courage to face his past and reach out to her again. 

He felt foolish. The pain he caused her haunted him. Regret hit hard, like a cold wave crashing over him. Yet, he stood at a crossroads. Did he miss her because he loved her? Or was it just loneliness pulling at him now that Will was away?

On one hand, he began to see Jane's true value. Memories rushed in—her laughter, the light in her eyes when she talked about her dreams. She wasn't just a memory. She was vibrant and alive. Her beauty went beyond looks; it came from her kindness and strength. 

This was more than nostalgia. It was a chance to reconnect.

He faced a tough reality. The world felt empty without someone to share it with. Silence filled his home. It echoed louder than any words could. He wanted connection. He missed the warmth of someone beside him. 

But was it right to pursue Jane just because he felt lonely? That thought twisted his heart. Longing for Jane mixed with the fear of solitude. It was like being caught in a storm. He couldn’t see what lay ahead. Would reaching out to her bring comfort? Or would it only make his emptiness worse?

Then, he heard something. Strange sounds. Footsteps. They echoed through the house. Close enough to make him think someone was there, yet distant enough to suggest they weren’t in the living room. The night felt heavy. Silence hung in the air, broken only by soft creaks from the old wooden floor. 

Michael’s heart raced. He remembered Jane's stories. Those were the sounds she described. The ones that haunted her dreams.

He sat up fast. His heart raced. He gently touched Jane’s cheek. “Wake up,” he said. She stirred, lost in sleep. 

Michael chuckled at her messy hair. It framed her face like a wild halo. “I heard something,” he added, his voice shaky. 

Jane jolted awake. Panic flashed in her eyes. She took in the darkness around them. With urgency, she sat up, fingers racing through her hair. She quickly pulled it back with a tie from her wrist. 

Shadows loomed in the room. They seemed to stretch, filling the space with tension. The cozy atmosphere turned electric. 

Every creak of the house sounded like a warning. They weren’t just in a familiar place anymore. They were two people on edge, bound by fear and uncertainty.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice shaky. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. Shadows danced in the dim room. Moonlight flickered through the window.

“I heard footsteps,” she said, glancing nervously around. “But not here in the living room.” Her eyes darted around, as if the shadows held secrets. “You mentioned your house has hollow walls. How wide is the gap between the interior wall and the outer wall?”

He moved closer to the window. He peered through the glass into the stillness outside. The moon hung low, casting a soft glow. It illuminated the edges of the walls. Michael estimated about half a meter of empty space between the walls. A dark void. It could hide more than just dust and cobwebs.

“It’s wide enough for a person to fit inside,” he said, turning to face her. The weight of the situation pressed down. “This means one of your neighbors might have a little door to slip into your walls, Jane.”

A chill settled in the air. They both felt it. The silence grew heavy, each creak of the house echoing like a warning. They were not alone.

Chapter Text

2000

Finding clues wasn't easy. Uncertainty filled the air. Tension hung like a thick fog. But soon, they would find something meaningful.

Michael suggested checking the outside of the house. The structure towered above them. Once beautiful, it now felt threatening, like a crumbling mask of safety. 

They made their first chilling discovery. A removable grate caught their eye on one of the house's exterior walls. It sat in shadows, almost like it wanted to stay hidden.

The screws barely held it in place. Anyone could pry it open with just a little effort. A simple tug or push would do the trick.

Jane hesitated. Fear gripped her. Shadows danced around them. The dark corners seemed to whisper warnings.

Michael, eager to prove his courage, unscrewed the bolts without a second thought. He yanked the hatch open. Darkness yawned beneath. With a keychain flashlight, Michael cut through the blackness. The beam revealed little. No signs of life. Just unsettling silence filled with dust…and footprints.

The prints were faint, almost ghostly. They led deeper into the unknown. Jane stood frozen. Her heart raced as she stared at the fresh footprints. The grate that once secured the passage lay discarded. It felt like a silent witness to her growing dread.

Her worst fears were confirmed. “I can’t go in there,” she almost shouted. Chills crept down her spine. 

Michael glanced at her. A finger pressed to his lips. “Shhh... keep your voice down,” he whispered. His brow furrowed. “I know you’re scared, but if you think I’m staying back, you’re wrong. I have to check it out.” 

“Absolutely not! It’s dangerous! We need to call the police,” she insisted. Her fingers trembled over her cellphone.

He reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. “Jane, remember what happened last time? The police came and did nothing. You call them again, and they’ll just brush us off.” His voice was steady but urgent. 

The tension hung in the air. She felt the weight of the moment. Choices loomed large.

Her gaze flicked to the left. She searched for a solution. But nothing came. The shadows in the tunnel grew larger. They seemed to whisper threats.

Michael noticed her fear. His demeanor softened. "We can't wait for help. We need to find out who's hiding behind those walls. You called me for a reason, right?"

She swallowed hard. Anxiety twisted with a flicker of resolve. "But what if it’s worse than we think? What if—"

"Listen, Jane," he interrupted. His voice was low but firm. "We go in together. If we wait too long, whoever is there could hurt you later. We'll face this. Together."

She hesitated. His words felt heavy. Finally, she exhaled a shaky breath. Her eyes were wide, filled with fear and determination. "Okay... but you promise you won't leave my side?"

"Never," he said, his tone reassuring.

The darkness ahead loomed. Yet, in that moment, they knew they had to confront it.

“Tell me you’ll be okay in there.” Her voice shook. Fear crept in as her brows knitted together.

He looked at her. A smirk tugged at his lips. “I’m a man.” His bravado was clear, but his eyes revealed something else. 

He stood up, shadows clinging to him in the dim hallway. Leaning closer, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be fine.” The words lingered, thick with unspoken fears. 

Jane’s heart raced as he moved toward the removable grate. The darkness beyond it seemed to swallow him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to pull him back. Instead, she stood frozen. She felt trapped between the dread of what lay inside and the flickering hope he would come back unharmed. 

“Just… be careful,” she whispered. Her voice barely broke the silence. Any louder, and it might awaken the lurking threat.

1986

Will had just touched Jane's shoulder when the school bell rang. She turned to him and noticed his pale face. It left her speechless.

"Will, what happened to you? You’ve looked like this for days," she asked, concern etched on her brow.

"Look, Jane," he stammered. His voice trembled. "I need to apologize for what happened between Michael and me. I know it hurt you. I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I took your boyfriend, and that was wrong."

Jane's expression hardened. She turned away, her feelings still raw. The memory of betrayal hung heavy. 

Will stood there, a shadow of his former self, trembling from this confrontation.

Suddenly, a hand gripped his neck. It jolted him from his thoughts. He glanced around. The room was empty, except for the looming figure behind him.

"Good boy, Will. Good boy," the voice was low, mocking. 

A chill ran down Will's spine. He couldn't bring himself to turn around. He stood frozen. The laughter of the unseen person echoed ominously.