Chapter 5: Trapped

That one line nearly made me drop my phone. My hands shook as I fumbled with the lock, suddenly terrified to even touch the door. I looked around, half-expecting eyes in every shadow.

“How did you know I was about to go out?”

It felt like something out of a bad horror movie—the kind where you check under the bed before sleep. My breath fogged the glass as I pressed my forehead to the door.

I glanced at the vent, the router light, every shadow in the living room. My skin crawled.

“You know I can tell fortunes,” he replied, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I almost laughed, but the urge died quick.

“Why can’t I hide outside?”

“If your wife wakes up at 1:01 a.m. and finds you gone, she’ll know you’ve caught on. She might act early. If that happens, you won’t make it.”

The specificity chilled me. I checked the clock, then my phone, as if the numbers might save me. My hands trembled.

“So you want me to just sit here and wait to die?”

My voice, if I’d spoken, would’ve cracked. My heart pounded in my throat.

“Judging by your current state, you can survive a few more days of your energy being drained. I’ll come find you in four days. We’ll talk then.”

I looked at the calendar, counting. Four days. It felt like an eternity.

“You’re really going to help me?”

Hope flared. Judging by everything so far, this guy was some kind of expert. Maybe I had a shot.

“There are some things I can’t predict without seeing them myself. As for saving you, that’s another matter. Go back to bed and let yourself be drained for now.”

Embarrassed, I said, “My wife and I never do that kind of thing in the middle of the night.”

He replied after a pause, exasperated:

“Who said draining energy only happens that way? Can’t you use your brain?”

His words stung more than I wanted to admit. I stared, wishing for a better answer.

“Then how does it happen?”

“You’ll know soon enough.”

After that, he went silent. No matter how many questions I sent, there was no answer. I felt abandoned in the middle of a storm.

I dragged myself back to the bedroom, feet heavy as lead.