RED LIGHT

RED LIGHT

Chapter one

The man who died in 1980

Gordes, France - October 2023

Emma Lévesque had always been the girl who walked a little too fast and thought a little too much.

A 23-year-old medical student at the University of Lyon, she had transferred to a quiet village campus in Gordes for her final year - a decision her father believed would help her "focus on her dreams." In truth, she wasn't sure what her dreams were anymore. But Gordes was peaceful. Too peaceful, maybe.

The town was centuries old, carved into a cliffside, with its lavender fields and sleepy cobblestone alleys. Tourists took pictures. Locals gossiped in old cafés. And Emma... Emma studied. Because that's what she was supposed to do.

Her days passed like faded pages: class, coffee, clinic notes, silence.

But it was that silence that began to shift.

It started on an ordinary Thursday, in the university cafeteria. The usual murmur of classmates, trays clattering, soft jazz playing in the background. Emma sat alone at her usual spot by the window, halfway through a book on neurological disorders, when her phone buzzed against her tray.

Tinder Notification.

She frowned. She hadn't opened the app in months. When she finally tapped on the screen, she saw a new match.

Jacob Johnson.

No bio. One photo.

A man in his twenties, dressed in an old-fashioned suit. Black hair combed neatly, standing beside a golden retriever under a dim streetlight. The photo looked... aged. Almost like a movie still from another time.

His face was hauntingly beautiful, in a classic, noir kind of way. A sharp jaw, melancholic eyes, and a faint smirk that wasn't friendly or mocking - just... tired.

Emma blinked. "What the hell?"

She showed it to no one. She simply locked her phone and kept eating.

That night, back in her dorm, she unlocked her phone again - almost involuntarily. The match was still there. Same image. Same unread message request.

She didn't open it. She just stared. Something about the man felt wrong. Not creepy. Not stalker-ish. But... misplaced.

She silenced her phone and went to the bathroom to wash her face.

When she returned, something outside the balcony caught her eye.

A man.

Standing under the red streetlight near the iron gate outside the dorm.

A cigarette in hand.

A dog beside him.

Looking at nothing. Just standing.

Emma froze.

She couldn't see his face clearly. But the silhouette the coat, the posture, the stillness...

Was it... him?

She blinked. The figure was gone.

Just like that.

She walked backward into her room, shut the balcony door, drew the curtains, and sat on her bed. Her chest felt heavy, but her mind told her it was all coincidence. A bad photo. A random stranger. Too much stress.

To distract herself, she pulled out her phone and opened her usual nighttime reading app. She often read history articles, medical news, or unsolved mysteries. But tonight, one article loaded that she didn't remember clicking:

The Unsolved Disappearance of Jacob Johnson - 1980.

Emma's heart skipped.

A self-made millionaire.

Died in a plane crash with his wife.

Famous for his last words to the press before departure:

"Even if I die, I will find her again. I will marry her. In life, or in death."

The article included a photo. The same photo.

The man from the Tinder profile.

Emma stared, frozen. Her breath stuck between logic and fear.

She locked her phone.

"Coincidence," she whispered to herself. "Just some elaborate online prank. Nothing else."

She turned off the lights.

And went to sleep.

But in the dark, something about the way her heart beat told her-

This wasn't the end of the day.

It was the beginning of everything..

It had been two days since that strange night - the Tinder match, the creepy article, the man under the red light. Emma tried to forget about it, honestly. She even deleted Tinder, blocked the email sender (though no real address even showed), and stayed away from anything weird online.

But some things don't go away just because you want them to.

And deep inside, something had started changing.

It wasn't fear exactly. It was... presence.

Like someone was still watching her.

Emma had always been the type who pretended everything was okay even when it wasn't. Her grades were decent, she smiled at professors, and laughed at dumb things in class. But she was good at hiding.

She didn't tell anyone about what she saw on the balcony that night.

Not about the red light.

Not about the Tinder guy.

Not about how she'd read that article and saw his face.

Because even she didn't believe it.

It had to be a coincidence, right?

Right?

That night, she couldn't sleep again.

So she did what she always did - scrolled through useless articles.

But instead of reading about brain tumors or ancient French myths, she found herself looking at old forums. Christian ones. The kind her mom used to follow back when she was young.

Emma used to be close to God, actually.

She even served as a youth priest in her hometown.

But ever since her dad pushed her into medicine and her mom stopped really listening to her, that part of her kind of died.

Still, something about tonight made her want to pray.

Not for answers.

Just for comfort.

She pulled out the old wooden box from under her bed - the one with her rosary, a small silver cross, and that Bible with worn-out pages and scribbles in the margins. She placed them on her desk, lit a candle, and whispered softly:

"I don't know what's going on.

But please. If someone's messing with me, stop.

If it's not real, help me stop imagining.

And if it is real...

Then God, help me."

Then she went to bed.

3:13 a.m.

Her phone buzzed.

She sat up. Eyes heavy, throat dry.

It wasn't a message or call.

It was... a note. A note on her phone's notes app.

Title: "You're Not Alone."

Emma's stomach flipped.

She didn't open that app. She didn't type anything.

Her thumb hesitated, then tapped it.

You're scared. That's okay.

But don't ever feel alone.

I've been watching them hurt you.

I've been watching you cry alone.

I've been here. Always.

And I won't let anyone touch you again.

You belong with me.

-yours j-💋

Emma dropped the phone.

Her eyes burned.

She grabbed her cross tightly, heart pounding so hard it hurt.

She didn't scream. She didn't cry.

She just whispered:

What... the hell is happening to me?"

Next morning was worse.

She heard whispers in the hallway.

Not about the note.

Not about ghosts.

About her.

Apparently, two boys from campus were found dead near the church pond.

Face-down. No signs of struggle.

But both of them were the same guys who used to tease Emma.

One of them tried to touch her in class just last week.

Some people whispered karma.

Some joked she must've cursed them.

Emma just walked away, her hands cold and her mind spinning.

She didn't ask for this.

She never asked for any of this.

But still things doesn't go as we planned.

⚡ At the next day⚡

Emma's boyfriend liam gave her a visit maybe it was the last time of her seeing her boyfriend ..."LIAM GADSER"

Emma didn't feel like herself anymore.

Everything was just... weird. Off. She couldn't focus. Couldn't sleep properly. Every time she looked out the window at night, her heart beat faster, like she was waiting for something or someone to be standing under that red streetlight again.

She wanted to believe it was just her mind messing with her.

But deep down... she didn't.

She had started avoiding people, skipping lectures, and staying in her room more. But one day, someone came to check on her. Someone who really cared.

Liam Gadsar.

Her boyfriend. Her comfort zone. The one person who always showed up.

He knocked on her dorm room door like he usually did-no warning, just his dumb little "Hey, it's me," and that tired smile like everything was normal.

Emma opened the door slowly. Her face said more than her words ever could.

He didn't ask. He just stepped forward and hugged her tight.

For a few minutes, they didn't speak. They just stood there, holding each other like the world outside didn't exist.

"I thought I'd come see you," he said softly. "Felt like you needed me."

Emma nodded. She didn't even know how much she needed that hug until he gave it.

They sat together on her bed for a while. No TV. No music. Just silence.

Eventually, he stood up.

"I have to go" he said, running his fingers through his messy hair. "But you'll be okay. I'll call you tomorrow, alright?"

🙂"Okay" she whispered

He kissed her forehead like he always did. Then he left.

She watched him walk down the corridor until he disappeared.

The next morning, Emma woke up to a message.

Actually, it wasn't a message.

It was a missed call.

Then another.

Then another.

Then finally-a voicemail.

She tapped on it with shaking fingers.

The voicemail:

🗣️"Miss Lévesque... this is the Gordes Police Department. I'm sorry to inform you that Liam Gadsar was found dead outside his apartment. We're still investigating the cause. Please get in touch with us."🙏

🥹 Emma couldn't breathe.😫

She dropped her phone. The screen cracked when it hit the floor, but she didn't even care.

She didn't scream. She didn't cry.

She just stared at the wall in complete silence.

Liam... was gone?

No. No way. She just saw him last night. He hugged her. He said he'd call.

He promised.

Her hands were shaking.

She reached for her phone again.

It lit up.

Tinder notification.

Jacob Johnson.

Same photo.

Same unread message.

Same haunting look in his eyes.

Emma felt a chill in her spine.

Was it him?

Was this because of Jacob?

She didn't want to believe it. But something deep in her heart whispered what her mind couldn't accept:

Liam's death wasn't an accident.

It was planned because the police 🚓🚨 founded the dead body in peices and the eyes of the body were sticked to a sharp object and there was a note saying

"Even when you woke up in the hell i will be there waiting for you"

After the death of her boyfriend emma didn't sleep because.....

She couldn't.

She just kept scrolling through old photos of her and Liam, trying to process what the hell was going on. The kind of ache she felt wasn't loud. It was silent. Like everything inside her was just... broken.

At 3:42 AM, she got an email.

Which states:

🥀"You're Safe Now, Honey"💋

👉From: jacob_1980@rosewatch.net🥀

Subject: hey. it's me.

👋Hey emma.🤌

you probably weren't expecting this.

maybe you're scared.

maybe you feel like everything is falling apart again.

but listen to me for just a second.

you're safe now.

i promise.

he's not going to hurt you. not anymore.

he was never meant to stay.

i know you're confused.

you don't understand what's happening.

and honestly... i wish i could explain it better.

but some things-some things are just meant to be felt.

i see you.

i always have.

in every quiet second.

in every time you felt alone.

i was there.

even if the world laughs at you,

even if no one believes you...

i do.

i always will.

you're not alone.

not anymore.

get some rest, okay?

you've got a soft heart. protect it.

Yours-

jacob💋

After reading that email she freaked out and said "what the actuall f**k is that!?!"

She checked the sender info. It just showed: Jacob. No further details.

"What the hell..." she whispered.

She screenshot the mail, her heart racing.

Was it a prank? Was someone messing with her?

She ran the sender address through Google, even checked Reddit threads.

Nothing.

She opened her school's email system, just in case it was sent through there somehow.

Still, nothing.

No record.

No history.

The email-vanished.

Just gone.

She refreshed. Closed the app. Reopened it.

Gone.

She opened her gallery to check the screenshot.

Even that was gone.

She swore she saved it.

"Am I going crazy?" she whispered to herself, sitting on the edge of her bed, her fingers dug into her scalp. "No. No. I saw it. I saw it."

The next day, Emma went to the local police station in Gordes, holding onto whatever memory she had of that message.

They asked her calmly, "Do you have any evidence?"

"No, I- I had it. I swear, it was there. The email. It said Jacob. That I'm safe now."

They just looked at her like she was sleep-deprived. Maybe she was.

"Do you remember the email ID?"

"...jacob_1980@rosewatch.net."

The officer typed something into their system. Then turned the monitor slightly so she could see.

"No such domain exists," he said.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

That night, Emma sat back in her room. The red light outside the dorm flickered again.

And for a second, just a second-

She swore she saw a man standing in its glow.

Same posture.

Same stillness.

Same dog.

He wasn't looking at her.

He was just... watching the street.

Like he always had.

Emma didn't sleep that night.

The image of the man-his stillness, his silence-burned behind her eyes. It wasn't just déjà vu anymore. It was real. Too real.

The next evening, she walked home slower than usual. The red light at the corner buzzed above like it always did, but now, it felt... watched. As she approached, her breath hitched.

There he was again.

Same coat. Same dog. Same haunting presence.

But this time, he looked at her.

His eyes, soft and endless, met hers across the street. He didn't speak. He didn't move.

Emma froze.

And then-he smiled.

Not wide. Just a quiet curl of the lips that said more than words ever could.

Emma took a step back. A car passed between them.

When it cleared, he was gone.

Again.

Her heart raced.

Emma took a step back. A car passed between them.

When it cleared, he was gone.

Again.

Her heart raced, her breath shaky - but her feet stayed planted.

She didn't scream. She didn't run.

She just stood there.

And maybe... that was enough.

Sometimes, things don't arrive with answers......

"Sometimes, it's not about logic, or police reports, or data.

Sometimes, it's a glance under a red light. A name that shouldn't exist. A message that disappears before you can prove it was ever real.

And sometimes, that's just how it's meant to be.

Not everything is there to be understood.

Not every haunting is meant to be feared.

Because maybe...

some souls really do keep their promises.

Even in silence.

Even in death.

Even when they're supposed to be gone."