Chapter 1
The storm had turned the rooftop into a waterfall.
Lyndsey Duncan stood at the edge of an abandoned school building, her uniform soaked through and clinging to her skin. The wind lashed at her so hard she could barely open her eyes. But that was fine. There was nothing worth seeing anyway.
Her phone kept vibrating in her pocket. When she pulled it out, the cracked screen split the word "thief" into four jagged pieces.
The dorm group chat had exploded. Kaycee Synder was livestreaming, her camera fixed on a Tiffany necklace.
She said, "This is the stolen item Lyndsey took. I kindly let her stay in my dorm, but she—"
The comments flooded in at lightning speed.
[Die, Lyndsey, you broke trash.]
[Your whole family should drop dead.]
[Why hasn't she jumped yet?]
Lyndsey scrolled up. A message from her mother appeared. It read: [Lyndsey, your brother is still short 60 thousand dollars for his down payment. Mr. Carlson said he'll help, but only if you spend tonight with him. Please, just think of it as helping Mom.]
Then there was the message from her boyfriend—no, her ex-boyfriend. It was a photo of him kissing Kaycee's ear, captioned simply: [We're over. Kaycee is the dean's daughter. Know your place.]
Finally, there was an email from her advisor, Edward Marlone. It read: [Tomorrow at 9 a.m., go to the dean's office, admit to the theft, and issue a public apology. Otherwise you will be delayed for graduation and marked permanently. You know I can do it.]
Lyndsey laughed. The sound was torn apart by the rain, sounding more like a sob.
She lifted her foot. Beneath it was twelve stories of darkness, like a mouth waiting to close.
Suddenly a crack of black lightning split the clouds.
No, not lightning. It was a tear in the sky.
A black leather notebook fell in front of her.
It had gilded edges and was dry and clean. It looked like it had fallen from another world. On the cover, written in dark red ink that looked almost like dried blood, were two words: Lyndsey Duncan.
With trembling fingers, she flipped it open.
On the first page, it said: [Whoever has their name written in this notebook will die. There is no exception.]
The ink was bleeding. It wasn't metaphorical; there was a faint smell of rust, and a dark liquid was seeping through the fibers of the page.
Lyndsey stared at it for three seconds. Then she let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a cry.
*****
"Alright," Lyndsey said, snapping the pen cap off. The plastic groaned in her grip, barely holding together. "Kaycee Synder."
As soon as the tip touched the paper, a stabbing pain shot through her finger, like a burning needle.
Lyndsey didn't pause. She kept writing, her voice hoarse and almost inhuman as she muttered, "Cardiac paralysis. Ten minutes from now. During her livestream, she'll confess to everyone that the necklace was a setup and Lyndsey is innocent."
The moment the final stroke landed, the blood-red letters on the page started to squirm and reshape themselves.
It now read: [The pact is sealed.
[So, how does your first kill feel?]
It was signed with a single word: [Night.]
Lyndsey snapped her head up. The rain kept pouring, the rooftop was empty; she was all alone here.
Suddenly, her phone powered on by itself, the screen so bright it nearly blinded her. She remembered smashing it to bits, but now it looked brand new, battery fully charged.
Kaycee's livestream was still live.
On screen, while showing off the "stolen goods," Kaycee suddenly froze, her expression locked as if someone had hit pause. Her pupils shrank sharply.
The comments kept scrolling: [LOL, nice acting.] Meanwhile, Kaycee's mouth opened on its own.
"I planted the necklace," she said, her voice warped and unnatural, her nails clawing at her own throat. "I was jealous of Lyndsey's grades. I asked her to take my exam for me, but she refused, so I-I stole my own necklace and put it in her bag..."
The chat froze for a second.
Kaycee's face went ashen, then bluish-purple as she clutched her chest, her expensive Chanel suit twisted and torn in her frantic grip.
Her phone crashed to the floor, the camera still locked on her face. Her perfectly made-up features now looked like a fish out of water, her mouth opening and closing as she managed to choke out her last words. "Lyndsey... is innocent..."
Her pupils went wide.
The livestream blew up. The comments instantly switched from [LOL] to [Holy shit, she's actually dead!] [Call the cops!] [Is this some kind of prank?]
Lyndsey stared at the screen. The girl who used to toss her homework in the toilet, dump soup on her in the cafeteria, and make everyone turn their backs on her, was now sprawled on the dorm floor like a crumpled rag doll.
Her phone buzzed.
An anonymous text appeared, no number attached.
It said: [20 years added to your lifespan. Beauty boost activated. Strength boost activated. Enjoy.
[P.S. I'm your reaper. Just a word of advice: be kind. —Night]
Lyndsey reached up to touch her left cheek without thinking. She'd a dark red birthmark that sprawled from her brow to her cheekbone, shaped like a twisted spider. Growing up, everyone called her "Spider Girl". She had been mocked, shunned, treated like a freak.
But now, her skin felt smooth and perfect beneath her fingers.
She hurried over to the puddle at the edge of the rooftop and leaned down to check her reflection.
The face in the water was still hers, but her skin was pale and flawless, the birthmark completely gone. Even the severe nearsightedness in her left eye had vanished.
She glanced at the lightning rod ten yards away and could make out every detail of the rust.