Chapter 9: The Girl With Crimson Eyes
550 Words
The sky had forgotten how to be blue.
Kade wandered through the city like a ghost wearing a skin suit—there, but wrong. The world no longer flowed in a straight line. Street signs changed when he wasn’t looking. Doors appeared where brick walls should be. The sun set twice before noon.
And under his skin…
The static still whispered.
He stopped walking when he heard the soft tapping.
Not footsteps. Not wind.
A finger. Tapping glass.
He looked left.
The storefront window beside him had gone black—like the inside of a mirror. But he saw no reflection.
Just her.
The girl.
Pale as frost, hair drifting like smoke around her face. Crimson eyes, not glowing—burning. Like they’d been lit from the inside.
She stood perfectly still. But her gaze tore through him.
Kade’s breath caught. His heart stumbled.
She raised a single finger and beckoned.
Once.
Twice.
Then turned and walked through the glass like it wasn’t there.
Kade followed.
Not because he chose to.
Because he had to.
He passed through the glass.
And the world… folded.
They stood in a garden.
But it wasn’t a garden.
The ground was cracked marble. Flowers made of ash bloomed in impossible shapes. Trees whispered in voices that weren’t leaves. Above them, the sky flickered like an old television trying to remember what color was.
She stood at the center of it all. Waiting.
“You saw it,” she said softly.
Her voice was soft thunder—tender and terrifying.
“The place beyond. You crossed.”
Kade swallowed. “What is it?”
“A version of what was. A rehearsal for what will be.”
She stepped closer. Her bare feet made no sound.
“The Drag is a door,” she whispered. “But it only opens one way.”
“…I came back.”
“For now.”
She looked at him, and her eyes softened. Like she was sorry.
“You weren’t supposed to be the one.”
Kade stared. “Then who?”
She hesitated.
> “Me.”
The silence after her words was deeper than silence had any right to be.
Then she spoke again, quieter this time.
“You weren’t the first. You won’t be the last. But you’re the only one who remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
She stepped close. Her hand brushed his chest—over his heart.
“That this world isn’t real.”
The air cracked.
The garden shook.
And suddenly—everything changed.
A voice, ancient and glitched, echoed through the flickering trees.
> “HE’S NOT ASLEEP.”
Her eyes widened. “They found you.”
Kade turned. The marble ground split open behind him. The air pulsed. Something was coming.
The girl grabbed his wrist. Her fingers were cold but grounding.
“You have to leave,” she whispered. “You can’t stay in this layer too long.”
“What happens if I do?”
She hesitated.
“…You’ll forget which version of yourself is real.”
The ground exploded behind them. The shadows screamed.
Kade turned—eyes wide—and—
Woke up.
Gasping.
In a stairwell.
Alone.
His wrist still cold from her hand.
And in his pocket—
The cigarette case was gone.
- Writer
