Serah could not sleep.
She lay in bed staring at the ceiling of her apartment while the clock slowly ticked toward midnight.
The town was quiet.
Too quiet.
For some reason, unease sat heavily in her chest.
The kind she had learned never to ignore.
Over the years, she had developed instincts.
Dangerous instincts.
The ability to feel trouble before it arrived.
And tonight, every nerve in her body was screaming.
She sat up and rubbed her arms.
“You’re being paranoid,” she whispered.
But the words sounded hollow.
Because deep down, she knew better.
Every attack had started like this.
Every nightmare.
Every chase.
Every town she had abandoned.
First came the feeling.
Then came the hunters.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from outside.
Serah froze.
The sound came from the all
