Chapter 4
I grabbed Ethan and bolted back to our room like my life depended on it.
With a loud bang, I slammed the door shut and locked it behind us.
"Honey, what's going on? Dad... those salt packets..." Ethan stammered, completely lost.
"Shh!" I hissed, cutting him off.
My phone started ringing again.
The voice on the line dripped with smug satisfaction. "See? Didn't I tell you? That whole family's crazy!
"Logan has the sanctified salt. Ethan got the injection. They're all in on it!
"Logan is a dark practitioner! He wants to use you for a ritual!
"Hurry! They're coming for you! Climb out the window!"
I looked at Ethan's bewildered, anxious face, then remembered Logan's salt packets and silver blade.
That was when I realized—the "future me" on the phone was lying through her teeth.
It was deliberately twisting everything, making me suspect Ethan and Logan.
It had warped Logan's "sanctified salt" and Ethan's "injection" into "sacrifice" and "control."
Yet Logan's actions, the needle mark, the salt... they were all real.
This was far more twisted than I had imagined.
"I'm going, I'm heading to the window right now.
"I'm so scared, just tell me what to do," I said, trying to reassure my future self on the phone, my voice cracking, almost in tears.
I started frantically rummaging through the room, searching for anything that might help.
There had to be a clue here somewhere. There had to be.
The voice suddenly screeched, "Don't you dare try anything!
"Are you searching for something? What are you up to?"
Suddenly, every light in the room went out at once, plunging us into absolute darkness.
From outside the door, I heard the chilling sound of nails clawing at the wood.
It didn't sound like human nails at all—more like the claws of some wild beast.
"Honey? What's happening?" Ethan panicked, moving to shield me. "What... what's out there?"
"Ah!" I screamed, my voice cracking with terror as I cried into the phone, "I was wrong! I was wrong! I'm going to the window right now! Please, don't come any closer! Please! Make it stop!"
The scratching and screaming suddenly stopped.
I whispered under my breath, "Ethan, don't make a sound. Just play along."
I pretended to climb onto the windowsill and spoke into the phone, "How do I get out of here?
"I'm on the eighteenth floor! If I jump, I'll die!
"Who are you, really? Why are you helping me?"
A chilling, sinister laugh came through the phone.
"Good girl, jump. I'll be waiting to catch you down below."
"You're not me. Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaking as I forced out the words.
"Who I am doesn't matter. Just jump, and it'll all be over. Ethan's turned on you, and his whole family wants you dead. Why bother living at all?"
My blood ran cold.
It wasn't trying to save me.
From the very beginning, it had wanted me dead.
All strength left my legs. I slid from the windowsill and collapsed onto the floor.
I needed to call the police. Now.
Fumbling in the dark, I reached for Ethan's suit jacket, searching for his phone.
"Honey, what are you looking for?" Ethan asked, his voice shaky.
"Your phone! Where's your phone?" I blurted out, my voice rising with panic.
"I think... I dropped it when we were running," Ethan said, his voice cracking with worry.
I rummaged through his pockets, my hands shaking with panic.
His phone was nowhere to be found.
But my fingers brushed against something stiff, buried beneath one of the packets of sanctified salt.
Pulling it out, I strained to see in the faint moonlight filtering through the window.
It was an old photograph, pressed flat beneath the salt packet.
My eyes locked onto the image.
And in that moment, I finally understood everything.