Chapter 7: The Night Stretches On

7.

I opened my eyes again. A text message appeared on my phone screen:

"Rachel, are you at home now?"

It was from Derek.

I replied with a "Yeah" and was about to tell him there was a killer hiding in the house, not to come in no matter what.

Before I finished typing, his second message arrived:

"If you're at home now, get out quickly!"

My heart sank. I felt something was off, but couldn't say what.

The next second, Derek sent a third message:

"A criminal just entered our building. He killed the security guard and took the master keys for the whole floor. I don't know which apartment he'll go into! Get out of the room now!"

My hair stood on end. Only then did I realize the killer had gotten in this way.

I put on my slippers and was about to leave, but my feet wouldn't move.

What if he was already inside?

I stared through the crack in the door at the pitch-black bedroom, not daring to move.

The repeated experience of being killed had become a deep nightmare, tormenting me constantly.

"Come out quickly, I'm waiting downstairs. Let's stay at a hotel until the killer is caught."

My heart pounded. I swallowed, trying to stay calm.

Better check the news forecast first:

"A murder occurred in Silver Hollow Apartments, Savannah. One victim was stabbed more than ten times and died at the scene."

The world outside was silent—no crickets, no cars, not even the hum of a neighbor's TV. The clock on the wall ticked toward the next unknown. I braced myself, waiting for the story to change, or for the courage to make it out alive. The night stretched on, thick with possibility and dread. Somewhere out there, the killer was choosing his next door. And I was running out of chances.