ON THE DEATH CERTIFICATE, it states my sister died a year ago. Who would have thought a single piece of paper could hold so much weight? There was a funeral, there is a gravestone. But there is no body.
With a sigh, I look around the small apartment that has been my home for as long as I can remember. Warm, light, and cosy. My happy place. The one space that is filled with all the things, and the people, I love most in the world. At least it was.
Once upon a time, the thought of leaving this place would have had me on the floor in tears, but that version of me feels like a lifetime ago. People have always told me how overly emotional I am, that I feel too much, that I’m too empathetic. Not anymore. While I was the only one to survive the accident, I know a piece of me died that day too.
My mind floods with memories; running around the apartment, getting into all kinds of mischief. From children, to teenagers, these walls watched us grow into adults.
Now, there is just me.
I turn around slowly, remembering how it once looked. Now, everything is gone. The paintings, the lounges, the cabinets we assembled as a family. Looking to my right, I trail my fingertips down several markings on the wall, each one a new milestone as we grew up.
Cora and me. My sister. My best friend.
There’s a tightening in my chest at the thought of her, and I distract myself by gripping the strap of the bag, feeling the weight of the box inside it. When I was clearing out the apartment, I discovered my sister’s journals. Thick notebooks filled with Cora’s messy scrawl. I know I should never read my sister’s journals, but she’s gone, and I’m glad I read them – they changed everything. Now, I carry the box everywhere I go. A gift, a curse – I haven’t decided which yet – but the moment I started reading them, I knew my life would never be the same.
Pulling the front door closed behind me, I take a deep breath in an attempt to prepare myself.
You can do this. You owe it to her. To yourself.
Forcing myself to walk, I stride down the dingy hallway, refusing to look back. Eager for a distraction, I let my eyes roam around, taking everything in, knowing this is the last time I will ever walk this path. It’s an eerie feeling, though it’s not until I enter the elevator, that it starts to sink in. This is the last time I’ll take this elevator, listening to it whirr and clunk, wondering, like I always do, if today will be the day it breaks down, trapping me inside.
Despite the heartache, I allow myself to feel everything, just for a few moments. Years of memories spill forward to the forefront of my mind. All the good times, the bad, and everything in between. Just when the despair reaches an overwhelming level, the elevator doors stagger open. Releasing a shaky breath, I leave those painful memories inside the lift as I walk out with my chin held high, feeling strangely cleansed.
Alex is waiting for me outside, standing there, his back against the brick wall, dressed all in black – as usual. His hands are dug deep inside his pockets as he gazes across the road, oblivious to my arrival. His unruly, midnight-black hair is kept in check by the black beanie he has pulled down over it.
‘Hey.’ I say, walking towards him.
As he slowly turns and looks at me, I see sympathy sweep across his expression when he notices my watery eyes. I swallow thickly, clenching my teeth and trying to keep a grasp on the grief threatening to break through.
‘You okay?’ he asks, with a slight frown.
‘Fine.’ I reply, wishing I had a more convincing poker face.
He nods, keeping his thoughts to himself, though I can tell by the slight raise of his eyebrow that he doesn’t believe me. Silently, he picks up his bag from where it rests at his feet, and together we begin the short trek to the train station. It’s an unusually cold night tonight, and for a while I’m distracted by the puffs of mist that release as I breathe. I find it somehow comforting, like a reminder that I’m still here. I’m alive.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Alex asks as if he can hear my thoughts. ‘This is the last chance to turn back.’ Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws a packet of cigarettes and offers me one before taking one himself.
‘I’m sure,’ I nod firmly, waving off his outstretched hand. ‘Are you?’
‘Yeah.’ He holds the lighter against the cigarette, puffing as he encourages the flame to take, the orange embers bright in the darkness of the night. I watch him from the corner of my eye as he inhales deeply, holding it in for a moment before blowing out a cloud of smoke. ‘Life sucks for me here, it will probably suck for me there. Doesn’t really matter where I go.’
‘Inspirational,’ I reply dryly.
He grins. ‘I should put that on a bumper sticker.’
‘Totally.’
I’ve only known Alex for a couple of months. I discovered an online forum – They Walk Among Us – dedicated to people seeking answers to the unusual and unexplainable things happening around them. Knowing that my sister’s disappearance was unusual, I thought the forum could help me uncover the truth about what really happened. Yet what I discovered was beyond anything I could have imagined. I mean, these people talk about vampires and other creatures as though they’re real. At first, I thought they were joking, but the more I read, the more I realised that maybe the things I’d believed only existed in movies are in fact real.
And that was where I met Alex.
Alex went on the forum after experiencing a bizarre situation when travelling a few months ago. He woke up in an isolated park with blood stains on his shirt, and no memory of how he got there. Reading about that made goosebumps scatter across my skin. Yet our actual friendship started with an argument after I reposted an article I had read discussing the origin of vampires. He disagreed with the information I shared and what sources I used to obtain it. Finally, we compromised and concluded that some of the articles were accurate, and some were not. The one thing we could both agree on was that arguing was pointless, and we quickly became friends as we dove deep into a bunch of theories we’d both read about. After talking every day for a few weeks, we decided to meet for coffee. That’s when I finally explained to him what I thought was the truth behind my sister’s disappearance – and that I’m using her journals as a guide to finding her.
I never intended to bring Alex – or anyone – with me, but as soon as he suggested it, I realised it would be so much easier having someone else there with me. Safety in numbers is always the smart way to go about things and having company wouldn’t be so bad. The support Alex has given me since we met has really helped me to stop doubting my sanity. Not once has Alex ever called me crazy for the thoughts and theories I’ve shared with him. Maybe because we’re both crazy.
Noticing my lower lip trembling, he wraps an arm around me, drawing me close to him. The scent of his aftershave drifts over me; the warm, spicy scents of cinnamon and sandalwood. Sure, I hadn’t known Alex long, but his presence, and his signature scent, have become a comfort to me. I’m not stupid, I know that I’m attaching myself to him, because everyone else has left me, but I am powerless to resist it. And I don’t want to. Considering Alex doesn’t have many people in his life either, I think he feels much the same way.
Slowly, he drops his arm back to his side, and I offer him a tight-lipped smile of thanks, not quite trusting myself to speak yet without bursting into tears. He smiles back, a dimple appearing in his left cheek. As we walk, my mind runs back through everything that has led me to this point. After all this time, it’s still hard to make sense of, and I am becoming increasingly frustrated. All I can recall was sitting in the car – me, mum, and Cora. The next memory was waking up inside the wreckage of our car; one of us conscious, one of us missing, one of us dead. I was the conscious one.
‘The Survivor’, the newspaper articles dubbed me as. I didn’t feel like one, not when my mother was dead, and my sister seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Even if Cora was thrown from the car in the accident, she would have been found, injured. But no. Instead, she disappeared without a trace – and I am determined to find out what happened.
My thumb absently circles over the scar on my left arm. A half-moon-shaped indentation that almost looks like a small bite or a deep scratch. I figured it must have happened during the accident. I’m sure it is only in my head, but it tingles whenever I think of my sister.
Two months ago, I saw her. Some viral video showed a guy backflipping from a moving vehicle in a bustling street banked with traffic. Yet, it was the sight of a girl walking in the background of the video which caught my attention. Even though it was posted after my sister was formally announced dead – it was her. I know it was.
Because she has a distinctive birthmark on her face. A small line across the top of her cheek, looking like a straight-lined freckle. We were often mistaken for twins growing up and that was an easy way people could tell us apart. Tall, with long dark hair and soft green eyes, framed by dark, thick lashes. That’s the reason I have a violet stripe in my hair, as we were both sick of people getting us mixed up all of the time.
As soon as I saw the video, I messaged the poster, who told me it was filmed in a town called Red Thorne, which is the first stop on my journey.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of the train approaching. Alex drops his cigarette to the ground, grinding it with his shoe before picking it up and tossing it into the bin. We walk onto the platform as the train pulls in, and exchange matching looks of foreboding as we step into the carriage.
The train isn’t as busy as I thought it might be, given that it is early evening. We are later than the peak traffic time, but I still thought there would be more people out and about.
Weaving down the aisle, we find a pair of seats facing each other towards the back of the carriage. I drop down across from him, dumping my bag beside me before nervously turning the thin black ring on my finger. I don’t remember when my sister gave it to me, but since she disappeared, I haven’t taken it off.
Alex props his feet up on the edge of the seat beside me, pulling out a book from his bag. He leans back, half-turning his back against the window as he gets comfortable, since we will be travelling for a few hours. In turn, I take out my laptop and place it onto the small table between us. I bring up the forums on Red Thorne, even though I’ve read through them all countless times.
Red Thorne. The place where people disappear.
Intrigued, I clicked on that one. Leaning forward, I rest my chin in my hand as I drag my finger across the mouse pad, scrolling through all the comments.
SoulEater888: I can’t believe people still say they don’t believe when these types of towns exist. Red Thorne isn’t the only place around. Wake up people, they walk among us.
Clicking on this, I read the comments.
ThatGirlSteph: What walk among us?
SoulEater888: The supernatural.
ThatGirlSteph: Like what?
SoulEater888: Vampires. Werewolves. Witches. God knows what else.
SugarPlum71: I hope they’re hot. Like in the books and shows.
SoulEater888: There’s nothing ‘hot’ about people being murdered in cold blood.
WhiteFox89: Proof, or it didn’t happen.
SoulEater888: *Attachment*
Clicking on the attachment, I narrow my eyes, scanning over the articles. It’s a collection of newspaper articles reporting missing people, violent attacks, and mysterious deaths.
I don’t know what any of this has to do with my sister, if anything at all. What I do know is that she was the girl in the video, and if someone took her, I’m going to fight to get her back.
Then there is the other thought. The one I hate letting myself even consider. The fact that she may have willingly done this. A lump lodges in the back of my throat. It’s honestly unthinkable. That she would choose to leave me . . . That my sister could be so cold as to force me to return to our apartment after losing her and our mother on the same day. I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain and loneliness on my worst enemy – and I couldn’t let myself believe Cora would have wished it on me, despite what her journals may say.
Swallowing thickly, I turn my attention back to the forum and continue reading.
ThatGirlSteph: Why would anyone willingly go there?
SoulEater888: To die.
ThatGirlSteph: Damn . . .
SoulEater888: Or to become one.
ThatGirlSteph: Become what, exactly?
SoulEater888: A monster.
The comments stick with me. More than I’d like to admit. My mind wanders to some dark places because of it. Between these comments and reading my sister’s journals . . . I’ve wondered about things.
Things that I thought impossible.
Rummaging through my backpack, I grab one of Cora’s journals. Flicking through it, I find the page I tabbed.
He is so handsome. The most handsome man I have ever laid my eyes on. And he noticed me!
I can’t stop thinking about the way his mouth inched upward into a smirk as he beckoned me over. His hands were cold to touch. When they slid over my skin . . . I lost my mind.
He is alluring. Addictive. Intoxicatingly handsome.
Did I mention handsome?
Right there and then, I wanted to be his. More than anything I have ever wanted in my life.
They say it’s evil. Wrong. Selling your soul to the devil.
I don’t care.
My soul is his to claim.
An icy shiver runs down my spine as I read over her words. Shaking my head, I slam it shut and shove it back into the bag.
Alex raises an eyebrow but doesn’t lift his gaze from his book.
I close the thread and find another one.
Number One Rule: Be Prepared
BlackHeart: If you do decide to visit, ALWAYS be on the lookout for a predator. Armour yourself. Be smart.
NateDawg11: With what?
BlackHeart: Pure silver. Have it in liquid form. Spray directly into their eyes. Blinding them is your best shot at getting away.
NateDawg11: How do you liquify silver?
BlackHeart: Here’s a tutorial.
BlackHeart: *Attachment*
BlackHeart: Always remember, if you run, it’s only encouraging them to fall into their natural instincts. To hunt.
NateDawg11: So . . . don’t run?
BlackHeart: Weaken them, then get to a public place. The last thing you want to do is run and get your blood pumping. That will just make you more enticing to them.
NateDawg11: Never thought of it like that.
BlackHeart: Most don’t. They’re no longer here because of it.
Taking a deep breath, I settle back into my seat and distract myself by gazing out the window. It’s too dark to see much of the countryside. A blur of passing trees, road signs, and the occasional petrol station.
Closing the laptop, I shift in my seat, trying to mimic Alex’s position as I close my eyes, hoping that I can get a little sleep before we arrive. I drift in and out over the next few hours, spurring awake every time the train jolts.
My eyes are aching when we reach our stop; they feel dry and tired. I rub them with the heels of my palms as I get to my feet, a huge yawn escaping me. Alex picks up my bag, handing it to me.
‘You’ve been reading those forums again?’ Alex guesses.
‘A little.’
‘You’ll never sleep again if you keep reading them.’
‘I had nightmares long before I started reading them.’ I exhale as I stretch, hearing a few bones crack. ‘Exhaustion is a part of my personality at this point.’
Alex cracks a smile. ‘Do you want to get a coffee before we get to the apartment?’
Shaking my head, I slide the bag strap further up my shoulder. ‘I just want to get there and crash. Thanks though.’
Nodding, he leads the way off the train, along the platform and out onto the sidewalk, with me right behind him. Here we are. Red Thorne. It’s unusually quiet. Swallowing, I let my eyes scan the streets, noticing that most of the streetlights are blown. My eyes move to the giant sign that looms over us.
‘Welcome to Red Thorne. A town you will never want to leave!’
Alex booked us an Uber, but the wait for it has me feeling jittery. I don’t like standing here in the dark, with no one else around. I feel like we’re sitting targets.
‘Imagine if a vampire swooped in and ate us right now. Before we even got to the apartment,’ he whispers, so close to my ear that I startle, whipping my head around to glare at him.
I give him a deadpan stare. ‘That is really not funny.’ His grin tells me he thinks otherwise. ‘You know vampires don’t eat people. Not exactly.’
‘Mmhmm,’ he says as he strides ahead, not seeming as terrified or alert as I am.
‘Besides, you’re the one who booked the ride at this ridiculous hour!’ I hiss.
‘This was the only time there was. Same time, every day.’
My eyes dart to his. ‘What? Really?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You never mentioned that before.’
‘I didn’t really think much of it,’ he shrugs.
My heart thumps loudly in my ears. ‘You’re saying only one train comes into town and it is at this exact time, every night?’ I repeat, my breathing coming out in short, sharp spurts, my eyes quickly scanning the area around us, as if something might jump out this very second.
‘Yes . . .’ Alex trails off, swinging his gaze to meet mine, suddenly losing the playful smirk he was wearing before.
A stick snaps somewhere in the dark off to our left, and with how quiet it is, it sounds as loud as a gunshot. I yelp, clutching Alex’s arm. I open my mouth to say more, when I catch sight of the Uber cruising down the road toward us. I sigh with relief, much to Alex’s amusement, though at least he tries to hide it. We climb into the car, and while the driver seems friendly enough, I hold on to my can of mace just to be on the safe side.
‘You kids better be careful being out and about at night in a town like this,’ the man says, giving me a side-eye look that makes me even more concerned than I was before. A long scar runs downward from the corner of his mouth. My eyes linger on it for a moment before I quickly look away.
‘I came prepared,’ I say, withdrawing a knife from the shoulder bag I have with me.
The driver doesn’t seem as phased as I hoped. He gives me a wry smile. ‘You know how to use that, sweetheart?’
‘Yes,’ I reply, narrowing my eyes. Pointing the end of it, I jab it through the air. ‘Aim and stabby stab.’
Alex snorts in the backseat and the man’s smile widens, insulting my confidence further.
‘What?’ I ask, looking over my shoulder at Alex who snickers at me.
‘Nerves make you act weird,’ he points out. Only his mouth and chin are visible in the dim lights, casting the rest of him in a dark shadow.
‘Shut up.’
‘Just sayin’.’
Frowning, I turn to face the front once more and silence settles in the car. As relaxed as the driver appears, I keep the knife clutched in my hand, feeling extremely stupid for doing so, but I don’t want to make assumptions that may have me killed.
I peer over to double check that the right address is showing on his map before I lean back and stare out the window. The real estate agent mailed the keys to us last week after we’d paid our deposit and the first month’s rent. I have no idea what the apartment looks like, but I don’t care. I just want a bed and a place that has functioning utilities.
Through the window all I can see are tall, dark buildings that seem ominous and unwelcoming as we pass. A chill shivers within my bones, spreading throughout my body and growing colder the closer we get to the centre of town. When the driver pulls up along the curb, Alex and I exchange a glance before we climb out of the car.
Gathering our bags, we pause on the pavement, staring up at the building that is our new home. It’s an old Victorian mansion that looks like it is about twenty years overdue for renovations. Most of the windows have curtains drawn over them, as if the building is closing itself away from the outside world.
Dark cobblestones cover the exterior. When the headlights of the car swing across the building, several bats fly from the roof.
‘Is it just me or does this place have a really empty feel to it?’ I whisper, trying to hide my apprehension, but the anxiety inside me rises to the point of nausea.
‘It’s late, Raya. Most people would be sleeping.’
I nod – it makes sense, and I try to let his words reassure me, even though I’m still holding my breath. And the knife.
It’s eerily silent as we walk through the lobby – there’s not a person in sight. I know Alex said people are likely sleeping, but it’s the absence of any presence at all that I find alarming. I tell myself it’s just my imagination working overtime, but our steps sound too loud as we walk across the foyer towards the single elevator. As soon as Alex presses the up button, the doors open, and we step inside. It silently carries us to the fourth floor.
I glance up and down the dimly lit corridor as Alex unlocks the door. I can’t get inside fast enough, and I am surprised to find the apartment seems quite cosy as I casually walk through, inspecting it. It has two bedrooms at opposite ends, with a living room and kitchen separating them, and I already know I want the bedroom furthest from the front door. The place is dark and a little cramped, with long dark curtains blocking out any natural light that will enter during the day. The bathroom and laundry are set off to the back corner. Some of the tension leaves me when I hear the door shut and the lock click into place.
We’re here. We made it.
After we eat dinner together – two-minute microwave meals that melted during the train ride – I shower and walk into my room. Swinging my bag onto the bed, I begin to unpack. I’m impressed that my wardrobe space is more generous than I expected.
The room feels a little less stark seeing my things spread around it. If I was planning to stay here for a while, I would love to put up wall hangings and have a few plants on the windowsill, and of course, my bookshelves. That will be one of the things I miss the most about my family’s apartment, not that much of it would fit in here.
The last item I pull out is a small picture frame. Cora, mum, and I smile up from the faded photograph. Tears spring to my eyes as I trace their faces. Placing the frame onto the bedside table, I sniffle, wiping the tears that had spilled down my cheeks with the back of my hand.
Feeling drained, I collapse onto the bed, kicking the now-empty bag to the floor. It lands with a hollow thump. The mattress is a little hard, nothing like the one back home, but it will do. It’s not like I sleep a lot anymore.
With a sigh, I roll onto my side and stare out at the black, misty sky. Nothing about this place feels anything like home. I guess that’s because it isn’t. This place holds secrets and things I can’t even begin to understand, but I’m not leaving without answers.
It feels surreal to be here, like a dream I’m expecting to wake up from. I lightly touch the ring on my finger.
‘I’ll find you,’ I whisper to myself, my sister’s pretty eyes appearing in my mind. Even if I die trying.