THE DEAD KNOW MY NAME

The first time I heard the dead whisper my name, I was eight years old. I was standing beside my grandmother's bed when she died. Everyone else in the room was crying. My mother was holding my little brother. My aunt was praying. Someone had opened the window because the room smelled too strongly of medicine and lavender. I remember everything. The ticking clock. The rain against the roof. The coldness of my grandmother's hand. And then— Elara. I froze. The voice had come from the bed. My grandmother's eyes were closed. Her chest was no longer moving. Elara. I stared at her. "Grandma?" No one answered. Then I heard it again. Don't let him find you. I screamed. Everyone thought I was simply terrified because my grandmother had died. Nobody believed me when I told them she had spoken. Nobody except my grandmother. Because three days before her death, she had grabbed my wrist and whispered something I never understood. "When they call your name, don't answer." I didn't understand what she meant. Not until years later. It happened again. And again. Every time someone died near me, I heard them. Sometimes they cried. Sometimes they screamed. Sometimes they only whispered my name. But none of them ever said the same thing. Until tonight. Tonight, someone was standing outside my window. And he wasn't supposed to be alive. --- The clock on my bedside table showed 2:13 a.m. I was awake because of the rain. It had been raining for hours, turning the little town of Blackmere into a blur of black rooftops and silver streets. I hated storms. Not because of thunder. Because thunder made it harder to hear them. The dead. I pulled my blanket higher over my shoulders and tried to sleep. Then— Tap. I opened my eyes. Tap. Something had hit my window. I stared at the glass. Another tap. Three seconds passed. Then another. Tap. I slowly sat up. My room was dark except for the weak moonlight leaking through the curtains. I reached for my phone. No signal. Of course. Blackmere was famous for having terrible reception whenever it rained. I switched on my flashlight. The beam trembled in my hand. "Probably a branch," I whispered. There were no trees near my window. I knew that. But I didn't want to think about it. I walked toward the curtains. Tap. I stopped. The sound was coming from the other side. My heart began pounding. "Who's there?" Silence. I immediately regretted speaking. My grandmother's warning returned to me. When they call your name, don't answer. I slowly pulled the curtain aside. A boy was standing outside. On my roof. I couldn't breathe. He was perhaps nineteen or twenty years old. Tall. Black hair soaked by the rain. His shirt was torn. Blood stained the left side of his chest. And he was staring directly at me. I stumbled backward. The boy raised one hand. His fingers touched the window. Then his lips moved. I couldn't hear him through the glass. But I understood what he said. Elara. My phone slipped from my hand. "No." The boy smiled. Not kindly. Not cruelly. Almost sadly. Then he mouthed four words. You finally remember me. My blood turned cold. I didn't know him. I had never seen him before. At least... I thought I hadn't. The boy lifted his other hand. Something was hanging from his fingers. A necklace. A small silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon. My eyes widened. I knew that necklace. I had buried it seven years ago. With him. I ran. I didn't think. I grabbed the bedroom door and rushed into the hallway. My mother's room was across from mine. "Mom!" No answer. "Mom!" I ran inside. Her bed was empty. The sheets were still warm. The window was open. Rainwater covered the floor. My mother's phone was lying on the mattress. I stared at it. A terrible feeling settled inside my stomach. "Mom?" Nothing. Then I heard footsteps behind me. Slow. Wet. Step. Step. Step. I turned. The hallway was empty. I backed away. "Who's there?" A voice answered. Not from the hallway. From inside my head. Elara. I covered my ears. "No." Elara. "Stop." You shouldn't have opened the door. "I didn't!" The lights suddenly flickered. Once. Twice. Then everything went black. I screamed. Something grabbed my wrist. I tried to pull away. A cold hand. Freezing cold. I swung my arm wildly. "LET GO OF ME!" The lights came back. I looked down. No one was holding me. But five dark fingerprints were slowly appearing on my wrist. I ran downstairs. The front door was wide open. My mother was standing outside. Barefoot. In the rain. "Mom!" She turned around. Her face was pale. Her eyes were completely black. I stopped. My mother smiled. "Elara," she said. Her voice wasn't hers. "You shouldn't have remembered." Then she disappeared. Not walked away. Not ran. Disappeared. Like someone had erased her from the world. I stood in the doorway, staring at the empty street. Rain poured over me. I couldn't move. Then I heard someone behind me. "She's gone." I slowly turned. The boy from my window stood in the hallway. The blood on his shirt was gone. His skin was pale. His eyes were impossibly dark. I stepped backward. "Who are you?" He looked at me for a long moment. Then he smiled. "You really don't remember?" "No." He walked closer. I reached for the kitchen knife behind me. He noticed. "Don't." "Stay away from me." "Elara—" "How do you know my name?" He stopped. For the first time, fear appeared in his eyes. Not fear of me. Fear of something else. "You need to leave this house." "Where is my mother?" "I don't know." "Liar." "I'm not lying." "You were outside my window!" "I was trying to warn you." "About what?" He looked toward the staircase. His expression changed. "About them." I heard something upstairs. A child's laughter. I froze. The boy whispered, "Don't look." Naturally, I looked. A little girl was standing at the top of the stairs. She couldn't have been more than six. Her dress was soaked with blood. Her head was tilted unnaturally to one side. I recognized her. My stomach dropped. "That's..." The boy grabbed my arm. "Don't say her name." "But that's—" "I said don't!" The little girl smiled. Then she began walking downstairs. One step. Two. Three. Her neck slowly twisted until her face was completely upside down. She looked directly at me. And whispered— "Elara." The boy pulled me behind him. The girl stopped. Her smile disappeared. Then she screamed. The windows shattered. I covered my ears as a violent wind ripped through the house. The boy grabbed my hand. "Run!" We ran through the back door. I didn't know where we were going. I didn't care. We ran through the rain, down the narrow road behind my house, through the forest that bordered Blackmere. Branches scratched my arms. Mud covered my feet. I almost fell twice. Finally, we stopped beneath an enormous dead tree. I bent over, gasping for air. "Who are you?" The boy didn't answer. "Who are you?" He looked at me. "My name is Kael." The name hit me like a slap. I stared at him. Something inside my mind cracked open. A memory. A summer afternoon. A boy laughing beside the river. A silver crescent necklace. Two children making a promise. I'll never leave you. I stumbled backward. "No." Kael's expression softened. "You remember." "No..." "You buried me." I looked at his chest. There was no wound. No blood. Nothing. "You died." "I know." "Seven years ago." "I know." "I was there." "I know." My breathing became shallow. "You were my best friend." Kael nodded. Then he whispered, "And you were the one who killed me." Silence. The rain seemed to stop. "What?" He stepped closer. "You don't remember everything, Elara." I shook my head. "I didn't kill you." "You did." "I was eight." "You were eight." His eyes darkened. "But you weren't human." I couldn't breathe. "What does that mean?" Kael reached into his pocket. He pulled out the silver crescent necklace. The same necklace I had buried with him. My fingers began trembling. "You need to remember before they find you." "Who?" He looked behind me. His face went completely pale. "The ones who have been waiting for you." I turned. There was nothing. Only trees. Only rain. Only darkness. Then dozens of voices whispered from the forest. Elara. Elara. Elara. Kael grabbed my hand. "Whatever happens..." His fingers tightened around mine. "Don't answer them." I stared at him. "And if I do?" He looked at me with an expression I had never seen before. Pure terror. "Then they'll know you're awake." A woman's voice suddenly whispered directly into my ear. She's awake. I turned. Nobody was there. Then another voice answered from somewhere deep in the forest. Finally. Kael pulled me against him. "Run." Behind us, hundreds of pale faces slowly appeared between the trees. And every single one of them was smiling.