Chapter 5 FEELS FAMILIAR

This morning I was more than exhausted so I slept in and when I woke up I decided to just got to work, I mean that's the least I could do.

It started with the smell of coffee you know just bitter, sharp, and warm enough to make me forget the weird woman’s stare for about from yesterday, she's kind of creepy..

Five minutes was what I could calculate from her stare, that’s all I got.

After that, the air in the café felt… off. Like the oxygen had thinned or the lights had dimmed just enough to make me question if my eyes were playing tricks.

The woman sat in the farthest booth speaking of the damn devil, the same spot where the bulbs above flickered like they were too tired to keep glowing. Her untouched cup sat in front of her, the one I’d made after telling her, “We don’t serve that blend, but trust me, this will change your life.” At least she made a nice choice.

She hadn’t laughed or smiled. Just stared at me like she was dissecting me without moving a muscle, ugh it's getting hot in here.

I tried not to look her way, but it’s kind of hard not to glance at someone who’s burning holes into your skull with their gaze. The café was almost empty now. Just her, me, the faint hum of the espresso machine, and Mr. Rourke counting bills at the register.

She hadn’t touched her drink once.

Weird, I thought but not the normal kind of weird. You know “I-take-my-coffee-black-and-my-cat-for-walks” weird. More like “I-see-your-blood-type-when-you-blink” weird and it's creeping me out trust me.

Her skin was pale too not the “no-sun-all-winter” kind, but translucent, like light couldn’t decide whether to pass through or reflect.

Her lips looked painted, blood-deep red, and when she moved them slightly, I swear I saw teeth that were just a little too sharp. Probably just the lighting or maybe I was overthinking, which was basically my Olympic sport at this point.

I wiped down the counter again for the third time, pretending I wasn’t aware of her watching me.

“You okay?” Mr. Rourke asked from the register, snapping me out of my staring contest.

“Yeah... yeah ,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just zoning out.”

“You sure?” He frowned. “You look pale.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Because that’s what every girl wants to hear.”

He chuckled and went back to counting, but I didn’t miss the concern in his eyes.

The truth? I did feel pale a bit. I’d been feeling weird since that morning i had that stupid dream I mean I have them everyday but last one felt real and am feeling dizzy, like my blood was buzzing under my skin and my throat… is somewhat dry. Not thirsty, exactly. Just parched, in a way water couldn’t fix.

I poured myself some, anyway, gulped it down, and immediately regretted it. The water tasted like metal. Like it had soaked in pennies overnight. I spat it out into the sink and grimaced.

“Gross,” I hissed, wiping my mouth.

When I glanced back at the booth, the woman was gone.

The cup still sat there, untouched, steaming faintly like it had just been poured.

“Uh, boss?” I called out. “Did that woman leave?”

Mr. Rourke looked up. “What woman?”

“The one who ordered the dark roast?” I said, pointing toward the empty booth. “She had a pale skin, red lipstick, zero sense of humor—”

He raised a brow. “You mean the guy with the laptop?”

“No,” I said flatly. “Definitely not a guy.”

“There’s been no one there since the student with the laptop left twenty minutes ago,” he said, frowning.

I froze in my steps and stared back at him, my stomach twisted in a slow, cold knot.

“What?” I said quietly. “She was just there.”

He gave me a weird look, like I’d told him I’d seen a ghost maybe I had. I laughed awkwardly, trying to shake it off. “Okay, maybe I’m just losing it. Lack of caffeine, you know?”

“Take a break,” he said, smiling. “You’ve been on your feet too long and am not gonna questions why you aren't in school today.”

Yeah, sure, a break maybe with some therapy and a holy water chaser.

I walked to the booth anyway, just to prove myself wrong to see her cup, her purse, something. But there was nothing. there was absolutely no cup, lipstick stain, not even the faint ring of moisture left behind by steam.

It was like she’d never been there.

The rest of the shift passed in a blur. The café closed early because the power started flickering too often for comfort, and Mr. Rourke decided he didn’t want to deal with customers complaining about “haunted lights.” He was a smart man, I give it to him.

I cleaned up quickly, trying not to think about the woman or her missing coffee cup, or how my reflection in the espresso machine looked slightly… darker, weird sleepy circles around the eyes.

“See you tomorrow,” Mr. Rourke said, locking up.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Tomorrow.”

The night outside was colder than usual, the kind of cold that doesn’t bite but lingers. I pulled my jacket tighter and walked. Streetlights buzzed overhead, casting sickly yellow halos on the cracked pavement. The alley shortcut was up ahead as usual narrow, damp, half-lit, and for some reason, quieter than it had ever been.

Halfway through, I stopped.

Someone was humming,though It was faint, barely a whisper, coming from somewhere behind me. A melody I didn’t recognize too low and haunting, like a lullaby sung through teeth.

I turned around still nothing.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself. “If this is how I die, I swear I’m haunting whoever writes my obituary.”

I started walking faster. My footsteps echoed back, but they didn’t sound right. it sounded too heavy and too close. I spun around again nothing but darkness stretching into the mouth of the alley, why does this shit happen everyday am tired man.

My heart was thumping now, loud enough to make me dizzy.

“Alright, brain, cut the horror movie soundtrack,” I said, forcing a laugh.

That’s when the humming stopped.

I turned backwards Immediately and trust me when I say, I definitely saw a figure stepped out from the shadows at the other end of the alley.

My body froze, I was on full time panic it was the damn devil of a woman, the same pale face. The same black dress that looked like it belonged in another century or something.

It was definitely her, the stranger from the café.

She didn’t walk like I did, she just glided, smooth and deliberate, her boots barely making a sound on the wet concrete. Every instinct screamed at me to move, but I couldn’t. My knees were shaking probably paralyzed I don't blame it though, my throat tightened and I couldn't breathe.

She stopped a few feet away and tilted her head, eyes gleaming faintly even in the dark.

“You shouldn’t walk alone this late you know ,” she said softly. Her voice wasn’t what I expected, it low, melodic, the kind that could make a nightmare sound like a lullaby and make you sleepy not me.

“Yeah, well,” I said, forcing my voice not to shake. “It is what it is, there's no other safe way you know.”

Her lips curved almost a smile. “You’re not afraid.”

“I’m just too tired to be,” I shot back yeah I wonder where this courage is coming from. “Look, if you’re here to mug me, can we skip the dramatic walk? It’s cold.”

Her smile widened, revealing teeth that were definitely too sharp this time.

“Oh, Lilian,” she said and the way she said my name made my blood run cold, oh wait hold on, I never told her my name.

“How the fuck did you know my name !?” I started, but she moved.

Not fast actually instant, She was suddenly there, close enough for me to see the faint veins beneath her translucent skin. Her hand brushed my cheek lightly, and my skin burned at the touch, cold and electric all at once.

“Your blood smells… familiar,” she whispered. “Like something I lost.”

My heart stuttered, I think I've had enough of her creepy vibes. “Lady, I think you’ve lost your mind.”

She smiled again. “Maybe.”

Then she leaned closer, her lips brushing my ear. “But you’ll remember soon.”

I shoved her back, adrenaline flooding my veins. “Stay the hell away from me!”

For a split second, her eyes glittered not with anger, but amusement. Like I was some inside joke she wasn’t done laughing at.

Then, as fast as she appeared, she was gone.... Hmph pathetic!

I staggered back, chest heaving, pulse pounding against my ribs. My hands shook as I touched my cheek, it burned faintly where she’d touched me.

And when I looked down at my palm, my cheeks was dead ass cold, I ran all the way home, I didn't bother to even look backwards again.

By the time I locked the door behind me, I was trembling and on a full time panic mode. Every sound in the apartment felt too loud both the hum of the fridge, the creak of floorboards, the distant echo of wind against the window every damn stuff. I stumbled into the bathroom and flipped on the light.

And just for a moment maybe a trick of the light my pupils looked… slit.

Exactly like hers.

“You’ll remember soon,” that's what she said.

I touched the mark again, the skin throbbing faintly beneath my fingers.

It felt…kind of familiar.

Like a taste I’d known before, ugh who are my kidding I think my nightmare are enough .