The unintentional Emotional Bond
752 Words
The hands dragging him into the c***k tightened, twisting his ankles at angles that made pain shoot through his legs like lightning. He clawed at the dumpster again, metal biting into his already-raw palm.
And then—
A voice, sharp and furious, cut through the alley.
“Hey! Get off him!”
The sound shocked the whole moment like a jolt of electricity. The hands below him recoiled instantly, hissing as if the voice itself burned. William scrambled backward, gasping, collapsing onto the pavement as the c***k sealed just enough to hide whatever lived beneath it.
He looked up.
At first he thought the figure standing at the mouth of the alley was a hallucination his terrified brain conjured. But no—she was real. Solid. Human. Breathing hard like she’d sprinted the whole block.
Missy.
He didn’t know her yet, but the moment he saw her, something in his chest eased for the first time since the nightmare started.
Her dark hair was pulled into a messy braid over one shoulder. Her jaw was set, defiant, but her eyes—wide, alert—kept flicking around the alley like she was scanning for threats she already knew were real.
She wasn’t shocked by what she saw.
She was angry.
“Get up,” she said. “Now.”
He tried. His legs shook violently. Missy rushed forward, grabbing his arm with a grip stronger than he expected.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, urgency crackling through her voice. “They’ve been watching you all night.”
He opened his mouth, trying to find words, ask who they were, ask how she knew any of this—
But the presence behind him shifted again.
A shadow lengthened on the wall. A tall one.
Missy saw it too. Her eyes widened just slightly.
“Don’t. Turn. Around,” she breathed.
The same warning he’d heard from the voice memo in his own voice.
Missy pulled him close—not romantically, not yet… but protectively. Her hand on his arm wasn’t gentle; it was firm, grounding, like she was physically anchoring him to reality.
“What is that thing?” he whispered.
Her lips tensed.
“You don’t want to know what it used to be.”
Before he could process that, the shadow twitched, edges glitching like corrupted video. Missy stepped in front of him, shoulders squared, as if her body alone could ward off something that wasn’t bound by physical laws.
The presence reacted to her.
It hesitated.
Not from fear… but recognition.
Missy reached into her jacket and pulled out something metallic—a thin, curved object etched with symbols he’d never seen before. The moment it hit the air, the temperature changed. The cold retreated. The presence twitched violently, shrinking back into the deeper shadows like it couldn’t stand to share space with her.
The alley lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the shadow dissolved, peeling back like a sheet of darkness being sucked down a drain.
The alley fell silent again.
Missy let out a breath that wasn’t relief—it was preparation. She grabbed his hand, pulling him along.
“You’re coming with me,” she said. “And if you want to survive the night, you don’t argue.”
He didn’t argue.
They sprinted together out of the alley and into the dim, quiet street beyond. She didn’t let go of his hand, and he didn’t try to pull away.
Her touch was the first familiar, human thing he’d felt since all of this began.
When they reached the end of the block, she finally stopped, leaning against a lamppost, catching her breath. William watched her, trying to steady his own heartbeat.
“Why did you help me?” he asked softly.
Missy wiped sweat from her brow, and for the first time, she looked at him fully. Not scanning him. Not assessing danger. Just seeing him.
“Because,” she said, “you’re not supposed to go through this alone.”
Something in her tone hit him unexpectedly deep. A warmth cut through the terror beneath his skin.
He didn’t know her story yet.
But he knew she mattered now.
And somehow, she’d known he was in danger before he even understood it himself.
Missy glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing like she sensed the supernatural thread still connected to him.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“About what’s following you.”
Then softer—
“And why it chose you.”
- Writer
