Dark Chemistry |18+| (Under editing)

6 || Surprise

NATALIA

We walk through life unaware of the dangers lurking just beyond the horizon. If only we could peer into the future, see the malevolence waiting to pounce, perhaps we could dodge the nightmares that lie in wait. But life doesn’t work that way. No, life catches you off guard, seizing you when you're most vulnerable.

Had I known that a dangerous, enigmatic man would intrude upon my life, turning my world into a living nightmare, I would have never set foot in that damned club.

It’s been a week since the feeling of being watched has lifted, like a dark cloud temporarily parting to reveal a sliver of sunlight. No more shadows stalking me to school, no more prickling awareness of unseen eyes following my every move. It’s almost as if the terror was nothing but a bad dream, almost.

But the memory of his ocean-blue eyes—icy, cold, and filled with a darkness that threatened to swallow me whole—haunts me still.

The day I barricaded myself inside my home, my mother returned a few hours later, her face immediately twisting in concern. Despite the stranger’s warning, I told her everything—every terrifying detail. The color drained from her face, leaving her ashen and trembling, as if the ground had just opened up beneath her feet.

Without a second thought, she called my father and Chief Jacob—our neighbor and the local police chief. By evening, he was at our door, two officers in tow, their presence doing little to ease the icy dread in my veins. They fired question after question at me, their voices a distant murmur as I sat, paralyzed, on our once-comfortable sofa. The soft cushions then felt like a bed of nails beneath me.

I totally hid the incident in the club and you know why.

The interrogation dragged on, every minute stretching into an eternity, until at last they stopped, assuring us we would be protected. Chief Jacob speculated that the stranger could be a terrorist, possibly involved in the brutal murder of journalist Ray—a name that only intensified my dread. The stranger had promised he would return that night, so Chief Jacob stationed two constables outside our house. But deep down, I knew these two men—skinny and tired-looking—stood no chance against the mountain of muscle who had intruded into my life. He could crush them both with a single hand.

Despite the police chief’s assurances, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom. That night, fear curled around me, tight and suffocating. I knew he was out there, somewhere, waiting.

The past week has been a living nightmare. Every sound, every shadow sends me into a panic. My heart leaps into my throat whenever the doorbell rings or my phone buzzes. Each time, I’m certain it’s him—standing outside, ready to drag me into the darkness.

I’ve barely left my room since that day, paralyzed by a fear that I can’t fully explain. I can’t concentrate, can’t tell my parents the full extent of my terror. I can’t let them know just how deeply that stranger has shattered my sense of safety.

Marjan and Reema came to visit Granny yesterday, but she, blissfully unaware, launched into one of her endless lectures about how to be a proper, polite woman. It was almost comical, watching Marjan and Reema’s faces—frozen in forced politeness—as Granny droned on and on.

School has been quiet, too quiet. No sign of him, no shadow trailing me. For now, the calm before the storm.

And yet, something still gnaws at me, a deep-seated unease that refuses to let go. I can’t forget those eyes—dangerous, ocean-blue, and filled with a wickedness that made my blood run cold. Eyes that seemed to promise pain and destruction.