KILL ME AGAIN!

Chapter 2

By the time I reached the university, I had almost convinced myself that the message meant nothing.

Almost.

The campus was already crowded when I walked through the gates. Werewolves moved between buildings in small groups, some still half asleep, others talking loudly enough for everyone around them to hear.

Nothing had changed.

The same stone pathways.

The same old oak trees lining the courtyard.

The same students complaining about assignments they had known about for weeks.

It was comforting.

Familiar.

Normal.

Exactly what I needed.

I tightened my grip around my bag and kept walking.

I had decided not to tell anyone about the note.

Not yet.

It wasn't that I didn't trust anyone.

I just didn't know how to explain it.

How was I supposed to walk up to someone and say, Good morning. Someone left a message outside my bedroom telling me I should have stayed dead, and then an unknown number started texting me?

It sounded ridiculous.

Even inside my own head.

“Arielle!”

I turned.

Selene was jogging toward me.

Her dark hair was pulled into a loose braid, and she was carrying two books beneath one arm while trying to fix the strap of her bag with the other.

She looked irritated.

Which, for Selene, was normal.

“You walk too fast.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You're late.”

“I am not late.”

I pointed toward the clock tower.

“You have six minutes.”

“Exactly. That's practically early.”

I laughed.

Selene fell into step beside me.

“Did you sleep?”

“Yes.”

She looked at me.

I looked back.

“Mostly.”

“That isn't an answer.”

“It is technically an answer.”

She sighed.

“You're impossible.”

“I've been told.”

She smiled.

For as long as I could remember, Selene had been there.

She was the person who knew when I was lying.

The person who could tell when I was upset before I even realized it myself.

The person who had seen me at my best and worst and somehow remained.

Which was exactly why I didn't tell her.

Not because I didn't trust her.

Because I knew she would worry.

And once Selene started worrying, she didn't stop until she had found something to blame.

Usually, that something was me.

We reached the lecture hall just before the professor arrived.

I took my usual seat near the window.

Selene sat beside me.

The lecture began.

I tried to pay attention.

I really did.

But my mind kept drifting.

You should have stayed dead.

The words returned again and again.

I glanced down at my notebook.

Without thinking, I had written the same sentence in the corner of the page.

I stared at it.

Then quickly scratched it out.

Selene noticed.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

She leaned closer.

“You wrote something.”

“It's nothing.”

“You've said that twice.”

“Because it's nothing twice.”

She gave me a suspicious look.

I smiled innocently.

She didn't believe me.

Of course she didn't.

Still, she turned back toward the professor.

I tried to do the same.

For the next hour, everything was fine.

Nothing strange happened.

No messages.

No notes.

No mysterious figures standing outside windows.

Eventually, the tension in my shoulders began to ease.

Maybe I really had overreacted.

Maybe the person who sent the messages had gotten bored.

Maybe

My phone vibrated.

I froze.

I didn't want to look.

For several seconds, I stared at it.

Then I slowly reached into my bag.

Unknown number.

One new message.

You still haven't remembered.

My heart stopped.

I stared at the screen.

Remembered what?

I read the message again.

Then again.

Nothing changed.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

I turned the screen off.

“Everything okay?”

Selene was watching me.

I nodded.

“Yeah.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“You're lying.”

“No.”

“You just went pale.”

“I'm tired.”

“Arielle.”

I looked at her.

She lowered her voice.

“What's going on?”

For a moment, I considered telling her.

Then I remembered the note.

The messages.

The strange certainty behind them.

I shook my head.

“Nothing. Really.”

Selene didn't look convinced.

But she let it go.

For now.

When the lecture ended, students began filing out of the hall.

I packed my things slowly.

Selene waited beside me.

“You're coming to lunch.”

“Was that a question?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say it like one?”

“Because I'm being polite.”

“You're terrible at it.”

She smiled.

We left the building together.

The sun was brighter now, warming the stone pathways and making everything seem less threatening.

For the first time all morning, I felt like I could breathe.

Then something brushed against my shoulder.

I turned.

Nobody was there.

I frowned.

Selene had already walked ahead.

I caught up with her.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“You keep looking behind you.”

“I thought someone bumped into me.”

“Someone?”

“I don't know.”

She studied me.

I gave her a smile.

She didn't return it.

Instead, she reached for my hand and squeezed it.

“Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”

I looked at her.

“I know.”

“Good.”

We continued toward the dining hall.

I tried not to think about the message.

You still haven't remembered.

The words shouldn't have frightened me as much as they did.

But there was something about them.

Something personal.

As though whoever had sent it wasn't asking a question.

They were stating a fact.

I had forgotten something.

Something they expected me to remember.

The problem was, I had no idea what.

That evening, I returned home later than usual.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

I dropped my bag beside the stairs and called out.

“Mom?”

No answer.

I checked the kitchen.

Empty.

The living room.

Empty.

I pulled out my phone.

No missed calls.

No messages.

I frowned.

Maybe she had gone to the store.

I headed upstairs.

Halfway down the hallway, I stopped.

My bedroom door was open.

I was certain I had closed it that morning.

I stood there for several seconds.

Then I slowly pushed it open.

Everything looked normal.

My bed.

My desk.

My books.

My clothes.

Nothing was missing.

Nothing was broken.

I exhaled.

“See?”

I was talking to myself now.

“Nothing.”

I stepped inside.

Then I noticed my desk.

The envelope was gone.

My heart began beating faster.

I walked toward it.

I had left the envelope there that morning.

I knew I had.

But now it was gone.

I searched beneath the books.

Nothing.

I opened the drawer.

Nothing.

I checked the floor.

Nothing.

My phone vibrated.

I froze.

Unknown number.

One message.

Better luck next time.

I stared at it.

Then another message appeared.

You were always terrible at remembering things.

My hands began to shake.

I slowly looked around my room.

There was nobody there.

I was alone.

At least, I thought I was.

Then I noticed something lying on my pillow.

A single black rose.

I didn't remember owning one.

I walked toward it slowly.

My fingers hovered over the petals.

Something about it felt familiar.

Not frightening.

Not strange.

Familiar.

Like a memory I couldn't quite reach.

The moment my fingers touched the flower, pain shot through my head.

I gasped.

The room disappeared.

For one brief second, I wasn't standing in my bedroom.

I was somewhere else.

A forest.

Moonlight.

Blood on the ground.

A man standing in front of me.

I couldn't see his face.

But I knew his eyes.

I knew his voice.

And somehow, impossibly, I knew the way he was looking at me.

Like he had already lost me once.

Like he had been waiting centuries to find me again.

Then the vision vanished.

I stumbled backward, clutching my head.

The black rose fell from my hand.

I stared at it.

My breathing was uneven.

I didn't know who the man was.

I didn't know where I had seen him.

But one thought remained painfully clear.

I had seen him before.

Somewhere.

Sometime.

And the worst part was...

I was beginning to remember.