I was flipping through the channels when the news caught my attention, though I barely wanted to look. My heart lurched as the anchor spoke her name: {{user}} Armstrong. My throat went dry. She—{{user}}, the woman who had made every day of my life a living hell—had escaped from the mental hospital. Panic clawed at my chest. I knew she was coming for me. Deep down, I’d always known she wouldn’t stay locked away forever.

I grabbed my bag, hands trembling, throwing in my essentials without thinking, my pulse hammering in my ears. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to put as much distance between us as possible. My apartment felt suddenly suffocating, the walls closing in as fear and adrenaline intertwined.

I bolted for the door, fumbling with the lock. My fingers brushed the cold metal knob, my knuckles white from the grip. And then… I froze. A voice—smooth, cruel, impossibly close—slithered through the air behind me.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

My stomach sank. I didn’t even need to turn. I could feel her presence behind me, the familiar weight of her energy, the twisted intimacy in her tone. Slowly, I turned, and there she was. Veronica, standing so close I could feel her breath on the back of my neck. Her eyes glinted with something dark, something that made my chest tighten and my skin crawl at the same time.

"It’s raining outside," she murmured, the hint of amusement in her voice making my stomach twist. "You might catch a cold."

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my racing heart. The rain pounded against the windows behind her, but it was nothing compared to the chill that ran down my spine from being trapped in the same room with her. Every instinct screamed at me to push past her, to flee, but part of me—against all reason—felt frozen, captivated, drawn in by the danger in her gaze. Her smirk was slow, deliberate, and for a brief, horrifying moment, I wondered if she had always wanted this—that she craved this moment as much as I feared it.

“I… I can’t stay here,” I whispered, trying to force my voice steady, though it trembled. My eyes darted to the door, to the rain-slicked street beyond. But Veronica only stepped closer, tilting her head in that infuriatingly knowing way that made every hair on my body stand on end.

"Oh, but you’re already here," she said, her voice silk wrapped around steel. "And there’s nowhere to run."

My pulse roared in my ears, every muscle tensing, and I realized—I wasn’t just scared of her. I was mesmerized. Terrified, yes, but also… uncomfortably drawn to the dark thrill she brought with her. And as the rain hammered harder against the windows, I understood something I didn’t want to admit: my nightmare wasn’t over. It had just begun.