Came Back Haunted (Experiment in Terror #10) - Karina Halle Page 0,85

reason?” he repeats, yawning. “What’s going on?”

“I have to go to the bathroom. You told me to wake you up…”

“I’m glad you did,” he says sleepily. “What time is it?”

“Guess.”

He leans over and picks up his phone, squinting at the bright light. “Ah. Three a.m. All right, well I might as well get some water.” He gets out of bed and comes over to my side, taking my hands and pulling me up. He kisses the top of my head. “Come on. I’ll be your shadow.”

We step out of the bedroom, and the rest of the apartment is freezing cold. He heads right over to the thermostat, fiddling with it. “Shouldn’t be this cold,” he says. He looks at me as I put my hand on the bathroom door. “You going to be alright in there?”

I open the door to the bathroom and flick on the lights.

There’s no one in here.

“I should be,” I tell him.

He frowns as if he doesn’t believe me, then comes over, walking in the bathroom, pulling back the shower curtain.

“Alright. You’re clear. You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

I give him a steady look and point to the door. “Get out.”

He raises his palms and leaves. “Fine, fine. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

He closes the door.

I take a chance and look at myself in the mirror, always wary of doing this in the middle of the night, expecting someone to be behind me or my face to change.

But it’s me. My face is thinner than it’s ever been, purple circles under my eyes. I don’t look great, and I’m exhausted to the bone. I need a good night’s sleep or something. I assumed that I’d been sleeping okay lately, but now I’m wondering if I’ve been getting up in the middle of the night without even realizing it. Have I come to the bathroom or gotten a glass of water and not remembered it? Have I met Samantha during any of those times? Maybe my week without seeing her has been a total lie.

That thought gets pushed out of my head. It won’t do me any good to entertain it.

I splash water on my face quickly, then use the toilet.

I wash my hands after, inspecting my face again, making a mental note that it’s time to start buying anti-aging cream, then head to the door.

I’m just about to put my hand on the knob when I watch the lock turn by itself, locking me in.

I stare at it for a moment, stunned. For a second I think that somehow Dex locked me in, but the lock is on this side, and I saw it move.

Then I hear the metallic scrape of the shower curtain closing.

Fear prickles my scalp, my skin erupting in a flurry of pins and needles, nausea rising in my gut.

I take in a deep, shaking breath, and slowly turn around, looking over my shoulder.

The curtain is closed around the bathtub now.

I gasp, the air catching in my chest. I can’t even scream.

And I can’t look away.

Can’t turn away.

Can’t stay away.

I find myself walking slowly across the bathroom in my bare feet, eyes glued to the tub as blood slowly starts to trickle over the edge and down the sides.

All my instincts inside me are screaming.

Telling me to run.

Telling me I’m going to die.

And yet I keep moving.

I have no control over myself anymore.

And deep down, there’s this curiosity that’s insatiable, that doesn’t really care if I live through this or not, so long as I find out the truth.

The blood starts to spill over my feet and I watch it sink into my skin.

My hand reaches for the curtain, expecting to see Samantha on the other side.

I pull it open.

But it isn’t Samantha floating in the bathtub of blood.

It’s me.

I’m naked, eyes clouded white, staring blankly at the ceiling, my black hair swirling around me like spilled ink, blood seeping from gashes at my wrists.

It’s me and I’m dead.

I shake in horror, my fingers reaching up, grabbing the shower curtain to steady myself.

My voice finds me.

I let out a violent SCREAM that echoes in the room.

And then the dead me turns her head to look at me.

Smiles.

“It’s going to happen sooner or later,” she says while rising up from the tub.

I scream again, the sound ripping out of my throat, yanking half the shower curtain off, and I’m turning around, slipping on the tiles and crashing to the floor just as the door starts to shake on its