by Robin Thorn
“Apparently Tanner was the one who found her.” Phoebe’s gaze was trapped on her phone as she scrolled through the incoming messages.
“Tanner?” I winced at the thought. “Poor guy.” I swallowed hard, and added, “Poor Jeanie.”
Jeanie’s room was across the hall from mine. I didn’t know her that well, but from what I’d seen, she was a cool girl, smart and chatty. The idea that she’d died at our school, in our building, turned my stomach.
“Poor girl,” I murmured again.
Briarwood was a small town. When I moved here for schooling, I loved that the little streets, local shops and bustling library where compact in a town of no more than a couple of thousand. So when things happen like this, which was a rare occasion, the news would spread to everyone in a matter of hours.
A hush fell over the crowd, and we all watched the doors to the building swing open. Tanner stepped out, escorted by two officers to one of the marked cop cars. Tanner’s head was bowed as he slipped into the back of the vehicle.
Phoebe drew in a breath. “Why are they taking Tanner?”
My answer dropped in my stomach like a rock. Right before our eyes, the ambulance team carried out a body bag. Cries began to erupt around me and as we all stood motionless, watching our peer was carried away; never to return.
Dead.
I turned to Phoebe and followed her gaze to a window four stories up. Jeanie’s window.
“It’s okay, I understand,” Phoebe murmured under her breath.
I turned to her. “What?”
She shook her head, then looked at me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I said I don’t understand,” she said.
“I thought you said something else?, I prompted. “Are you sure your ok?”
“Oh.” She pursed her lips. “I’m alright.”
Phoebe wouldn’t look at me. She kept her gaze lingering on Jeanie’s window. The crowd was growing around us, filling with students who wanted to watch the drama. I caught a gaggle of girls crying into each other's arms as she mouthed Jeanie’s name.
The air was thick with mourning.
While everyone else had watched Jeanie leave Dorm Block D in a body bag, I’d watched her in her bedroom window. Her eyes had pierced through the frosted glass and the winter air where the onlookers huddled.
Someone killed me; the wind had carried Jeanie’s otherworldly voice to my ears. I’d stared right back at her misted figure in the window, not quite there, but as there to my eyes, as her corporeal form had been in the body bag to everyone else.
“You can see me?” She had asked me through the channels of my mind.
I nodded my head, just enough to convey my answer to Jeanie’s ghost, but not enough to make Stef beside me question the action.
Then Jeanie started talking at one hundred miles a minute. Her frantic voice flooded my mind and made my head throb.
“What happened to me?” she demanded. “Do you know what happened? The last thing I remember was waking up, and someone, something was in my room!”
I raised my hand ever so slightly, enough to signal to her, to urge her to stay calm.
She was talking fast. The dead ones often did. It seemed that dying filled spirits with adrenaline. It didn’t help their stress when they find that someone could hear them, no less see them, that they had to get all of their unspoken thoughts out in one breath.
Jeanie stared down at me now from the fourth-floor window. “It burned,” she relayed. “So much pain. I was being torn apart from the inside. Someone kissed me…”
Kissed? I exhaled into the cold air, barely hearing the sobs of the onlookers around me. I was as oblivious to them as they were of me and my private conversation with the dead girl.
This changed everything. It had ‘supernatural’ written all over it. I should have figured that out sooner. I could smell the stench in the air even before I’d heard the news. And there was only one breed I knew of who loved to depart with a brush of lust and touch. The Incubus. Darling little beasts.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Jeanie’s ethereal voice had gone up an octave, and her translucent hands pressed to her heart. “I have finals coming up. Had finals!”
Finals? Really? If mum hadn’t reprimanded me for playing with the newly deceased, I would have pointed out the irony. Jeanie’s final happened already.
“Can you hear me?” she asked again, frantically. “I need you to hear me! I need you to help me!”
“It’s okay,” I whispered to the silvery figure in the fourth-floor window. “I understand.”
Stef turned to me. “What?”
Damn. Never a good idea to talk to ghosts out loud. “I said I don’t understand,” I said. I was a lame liar. But what else was I supposed to do? Lying was better than the alternative. I mean, what would I even say if I told the truth anyway? I’m a Guardian demon hunter, and I see dead people? I’m not sure Stef would buy that one.
But Stef was freaked out. Everyone was. Death on campus was brutal. The question I wondered though, was what the hell was an Incubus demon doing on here in the first place?
Conversation was non-existent between Phoebe and I as we sipped our coffees at Java, trying to act as though everything was normal. Nothing was normal. I felt cold, sick, and like darkness had fallen upon us, and I was afraid it would never leave.
I caught Phoebe’s gaze; she’d been staring into space, lost in thought. “Are you okay?” I asked her, numbly.
“Yeah,” Phoebe said with a long breath. “It’s just…y’know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I know.” I gazed out the window as the blizzard began to brew and students walked by with their heads bowed away from the snowfall.
Nearly an hour had passed since we’d watched Jeanie’s body get carried away. The shock had hit us both, and time had started to blur.
Phoebe cleared her throat. “I bet it was one of those freak, unexplainable deaths,” she said. “You know, one of those deaths where people just go to sleep and never wake up. Peaceful, and all.”
“Maybe,” I replied although I didn’t believe that. And I sensed that she didn’t, either.
My phone buzzed. I picked it up from the table and unlocked it. It was a mass message from the Dean of the university.
“All classes cancelled for the rest of the day,” I relayed the text. I turned the screen towards Phoebe, and she read the announcement aloud.
“Students of Briarwood University are informed that all classes and proceedings are cancelled today, Wednesday, December 15th, and will resume tomorrow as normal. In light of this morning’s events in Dorm Block D and the passing of a fellow student, please be advised that the university will be looking into the situation delicately. If anyone has any information on Jeanie Thompson and her whereabouts on Tuesday 14th December, please contact the Briarwood police department on extension 193. Students are reminded that the counsellor's office will remain open from 8 am to 6 pm.”
“I knew something wasn’t right about this,” I muttered. “Why else would the Dean need information on Jeanie’s whereabouts yesterday?”
“Okay,” Phoebe conceded. “Something is off, but the police are on it, and I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of this.”
My gaze wandered over the groups of students that filled the seats around us, many of whom were now looking at their phones, probably reading the same message that we were. I noticed a couple of guys around a table grinning and high-fiving about a day of cancelled classes. My chest tightened.
Phoebe rose from her seat. “I’ll get us another coffee…”
I heard her voice, but everything around me seemed to have slowed down, muted.
Through the snow-speckled window, I saw a girl with long black hair and porcelain skin. My heart rate quickened, and a familiar panic spiked in my throat. Everything suddenly seemed muffled as the girl stared into Java’s window, her eyes on me. It was Her.
She smiled and walked away.
I heard my chai
r clatter to the floor before I realised I’d jumped up. Ignoring Phoebe’s calls I ran for the door, throwing it open to the awaiting winter air. I ran out onto the stone pathway, my gaze darting in every direction as I tried to find Her through the dozens of faces and bodies. There was no way she could have gotten out my sight so quickly.
I raised a hand to shield from the snowy downpour, but it didn’t help. I could no longer see her.
“Stef!” Phoebe paced out of Java, pulling her scarf around her neck. “What has gotten into you!”
I blinked back at her in a strange daze. “I…I thought I saw someone…”
“Who?”
My gaze went back to the student passing by in the fluttery white blizzard.
“I’m not sure,” I murmured.
Phoebe shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Okay, you’re freaking me out. Let’s go back inside.” Her folded her hand over my arm.
But I couldn’t tear my focus away from the campus grounds. Surely this couldn’t be happening. It was just a dream.
I rubbed my hand over my brow. “I’m sorry, I—”
“You’re freezing,” Phoebe said, threading her arm through mine. “Come on.”
I let Phoebe steer my back into Java. A few people were staring at me now. Even the barista’s eyes were on me.
“Sit down. And drink,” Phoebe said, nodding back towards our abandoned table. “Maybe you should stick to decaf this time.”
I tried to laugh it off, but an ominous feeling brewed within me.
When spent the remainder of the day, battling the snow and visiting the few shops in the local town. There were not many, but it helped to kill time searching the bookshelves of Taunt Books and the sale racks of the local clothing chain. There were a few bars in town, most of which I have frequented, but a couple I stayed away from. I always felt a strange burning at the back of my neck when I passed one specific bar. Strange visitors would hang out in its dark rooms, sometimes for longer than a day. I would be caught dead near one of those.
Once Phoebe had burnt a hole in her pocket in the local mall, it was time to return to campus which was a short walk, mostly uphill. Snow came down even heavier this high, which meant by the time we reached our dorm our feet were frozen solid. We found that we were not allowed back in our dorm, so we opted to visit the school library were, thankful, an open fire was lit and ready for us.
When evening came around, we were permitted to return to Dorm Block D. Jeanie’s death was already all over the local news, and even Will had gotten wind of it. He’d shown up at the dorm that evening to check on me. Will didn’t study at the university. I’d met him in a bar on a bleary night out back in September, and since then he’d spent a lot of time hanging out on campus with Phoebe and me, watching movies or binging on Netflix boxsets.
“What are doing for Christmas break?” Will asked now as he placed a bowl of salted chips in front of me. “Your mum will be in Greece, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll probably just hang out here over the holidays.” I patted the sofa cushion in the common room.
Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Stef is staying with me for Christmas, aren’t you?” She reached over and stole a handful of chips from the bowl. “My folks only live about half an hour outside of Briarwood.”
“Thanks, Pheebs,” I said with a quiet smile. We hadn’t discussed that yet, but the dorm blocks were already starting to empty for the holidays, and I wasn’t loving the idea of being alone on campus for Christmas.
“No biggie,” she said with a wave of her hand. “What kind of friend would I be if I left you to fend for yourself on Christmas?” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “And don’t call me Pheebs.”
I grinned at her. She had a good point, with my mum away and my dad MIA, I was out of options. Mine and Will’s relationship was still pretty new; too new to stay with him. I’d already met his family, and his mum had given me an open invite whenever I wanted to crash…but maybe it was a little too soon for a joint Christmas.
I liked Will, though. I liked him more than any of the guys I’d dated before. He was broad-shouldered and tall, over six feet. His auburn hair was always cropped short, accentuating his strong jawline and high cheekbones. But it wasn’t just his looks that held my interest; he was thoughtful and sweet too. Sometimes we’d stayed up for hours just talking about the most random of things. Sometimes Netflix led to chilling, which was always a bonus.
I blushed, focusing on my chips. I was already devouring my third bowl already—I swear, my appetite today had been record-breaking. All day I’d felt hollow like nothing had been enough to fill the grumbling void inside my stomach. The more I ate, the more I wanted. I passed it off as a symptom of stress and made a mental note to Google search it later.
“I should head out,” Will said, glancing at his watch. “It’s nearly ten, and I promised I’d meet the guys in the bar tonight.” He stood from the cushioned seat. I looked up as he placed his hands on either side of my face and leaned into me. With his lips inches from mine, he spoke, “Have a good night. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Then he winked. Not caring that Phoebe was in the room—and probably cringing into her 7up—I leaned in and pressed a hungry kiss to his mouth.
I could feel Will’s surprise beneath my lips, and he melted into me. I was hungry for him.
Hungry.
Something stirred in the pit of my stomach. A burning sensation, a fire. I needed more.
“Fuck!” Will pulled back from me suddenly. Frown lines creased on his brow.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, breathless.
Will was rubbing his chest with his large hand, his face twisted in pain. “I don’t know. Must be heartburn, or something.” He tapped his fingers to his lips and pulled them away to check. “You almost bit my bottom lip off!”
“I didn’t—” I began, but Phoebe interrupted.
Phoebe glanced up from her soda. “Call it karma for getting freaky right in front of me. Gross, by the way.”
I threw her a quick smile but noticed something moving behind her. It was as if the very shadows of the room were alive, withering and bending before my eyes, darkening everything.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes, but the shadows kept dancing. I held my breath.
“I’ll call tomorrow,” Will finished, tapping his chest again before standing up to full high. “See you around, Phoebe.”
“Um uh,” she replied, mouthful.
Phoebe didn’t care for Will much.
I smiled weakly to appease Will, then watched him walk through the churning darkness of the room to the exit. The shadows recollided from him as he left.
I couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop my racing thoughts. Between Jeanie’s death, and the phantom girl appearing outside Java, sleep was beginning to feel impossible.
After Phoebe and I sat through some junk rom-com about some nieve girl finding love in an airport, we’d returned to our respective bedrooms. Outside, any sign of the police intervention on Dorm Block D had disappeared. No more yellow tape cordoning off the entrance, or flashing blue lights projected onto the brickwork. Just silence.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
I gritted my teeth. I swear, if phone lit up one more time, then it too was about to meet its untimely end. I rolled over, tilting the screen to see the next influx of gossip spilling down the message thread. The latest was about Tanner. No one had heard from him since he’d left with the police, which, according to the rumour mill, meant he was a cold-blooded murderer, locked up in a cell awaiting trial.
Bullshit. Tanner wasn’t a murderer. He was part of my Bio-Chem class, and I’d worked with him on a few projects in the past two months. He was a nice guy; soft-spoken and book smart.
I switched my phone off, watching the power and life slip from the device.
Tap…tap…tap.
My eyes shot open from my light sleep. Something was hitting the window pane, rattling the glass in slow thuds.
I flipped on the lamp and jumped out of bed, then paced across the room. Drawing the curtains apart, I cupped my hands on the glass and looked out into the moonlit night. The windowpane frosted which blurred the view beyond it.
I startled as something else hit the frosted pane right in front of my face.
My fingers sealed around the latch, and I pushed the window open, leaning out into the frigid air.
“Cut it out. Are you fucking crazy!” I shouted towards the stone thrower.
From the fourth storey window, it was hard to make out the silhouette standing on the dark pavement below. But the crest of a raven-haired head tilted upward and a girl—the girl—looked up at me.
The sight of her seemed to paralyse me. She waved a fragile hand, as if she and I were just old friends, and that I was expecting her visit. Maybe, on some level, I was. But I didn’t wave back.
The moon shadows began to bend and curve around her, morphing her blackened tresses into a trick of darkness. And just like that, she was gone. Now I stared at the empty pavement, the midnight darkness making me question if she had ever been there at all, or if she’d moved behind the trees without my noticing.
I staggered back into the room and pulled the window closed, turning the handle up hard. This couldn’t be real. I was sleeping; I had to be.
There was a bang on my door, and I let out a noise somewhere between a scream and a choke. I pressed my hand to my mouth. I couldn’t move—not to the window or towards the door.
The knock came again. Taking a solid step forward, I turned the handle and opened the door.
When I saw Phoebe standing in the outer corridor, my breath escaped in a rush.
“Someone was throwing stones at my window!” I hissed.
Phoebe's brown hair was in a messy ponytail, her plaid bed clothes hanging off her.
“I heard you shouting,” she whispered, glancing furtively along the empty corridor. “With what happened to Jeanie I wanted to check on you.”