Chapter 25 – Turning the Tables
Chapter 25 – Turning the Tables
Emily sat on the edge of a couch, both her and Sarah having no other place to stay had to go back to Emily’s apartment. Emily's knees bounced with restless energy. She could not shake the image of the charred remains of Sarah's apartment, or the gleam of the silver necklace in the ashes. The killer was mocking her, always one step ahead, always watching. The police did not believe her. Sarah barely did. If she did not take control now, she would lose her mind or worse her life.
“I am done running,” she said suddenly.
Sarah, curled up on the opposite chair with a laptop, glanced up. “What do you mean?”
Emily stood, pacing the living room. “I have been reacting to him every time. Jumping when he says jump. Hiding when he pushes me into corners. Have you noticed that all these time this killer has not showed his face. So I'm sure what he wants is for me to be terrified. But I am done with that.”
Sarah closed the laptop slowly. “Emily…”
“I am going to set a trap.”
The words landed like a gunshot. Sarah’s brow furrowed. “A trap? For a man who broke into my apartment and set it on fire? Emily, you have lost your mind.”
“No.” Emily’s voice shook, but determination sharpened it. “He will come to me. He always does. And this time I will be ready. We will catch him in the act.”
Sarah crossed the room, gripping Emily’s shoulders. “And what if he kills you before you catch him? What if.... what if you are wrong, and there is no one there? Emily, the police already think you are losing it. Do you want to hand them more proof?”
Emily pulled free, glaring. “Do you think I want to do this? You think I do not know how insane it sounds? But every night I hear him. Every night he is closer to killing us.He would not stop until I am dead. Or worse till both of us are dead.”
Sarah searched her face and found something that scared her even more than the threat of the killer: desperation. She sighed, shoulders sagging. “If I go with you… we do this carefully. Promise me.”
Emily nodded, though the fire in her eyes said otherwise.
\---
The night air carried a damp chill as they approached Sarah’s apartment building. Police tape sagged around the entrance, fluttering weakly in the breeze. The smell of smoke still clung to the bricks, heavy and bitter.
Sarah hesitated at the threshold. “We should not even be here.”
Emily pushed past, her steps quick and deliberate. “He is expecting me to cower. That ends tonight.”
The hallway was dim, the emergency lights casting long shadows along the walls. Emily carried only a flashlight and a small folding chair. She set the chair beneath the flickering hallway bulb and, from her pocket, placed the silver necklace carefully in the center of the floor. It gleamed in the pale light, stark against the ash-stained tiles.
Sarah folded her arms, standing guard at the wall. “This feels like bait. And not for him... for you.”
“That is the point,” Emily whispered. “He can not resist leaving a message. He will come.”
Minutes stretched into hours. The silence pressed down, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the ceiling pipes. Sarah shifted, her nerves fraying with each second, but Emily did not move. Her eyes were locked on the necklace, unblinking.
Then it came the soft scrape of a boot against concrete.
Emily stiffened. Her pulse roared in her ears. She leaned forward, whispering, “He is here.”
Sarah grabbed her arm. “We should go.... Right now.”
The hallway bulb above them flickered violently, sputtering like a dying heart, then went out. The corridor plunged into darkness.
Emily fumbled with the flashlight, thumb shaking as she clicked it on. The beam cut through the shadows.
The necklace was gone.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Sarah’s fingers tightened painfully on her arm. “Emily....”
A sound slithered through the hallway, low and deliberate. Not a footstep. A chuckle.
Emily swung the flashlight wildly, slicing the dark with trembling light. Nothing just empty walls and silent doors.
Then the beam caught something smeared across the far wall, thick and wet, letters scrawled in uneven strokes
“Nice try, my love.”
Emily’s stomach dropped. Her grip faltered and the flashlight clattered to the floor, spinning until the beam landed sideways, casting grotesque shadows.
Sarah’s face had gone pale, her mouth opening wordlessly.
Emily stumbled back, every nerve screaming. He had not fallen into her trap.
He had been here first.
The necklace was gone. The words dripped fresh.
And she realized with crushing dread...
The killer was always ahead of her.