As I wake up I feel a hollowness spreading through my chest like ice water. The morning light filters through the blinds, casting stripes across the rumpled sheets. Amy's cool body is pressed against my back, her arm draped possessively over my waist.
The emptiness inside me feels like it's grown overnight, a black hole consuming everything, hope, fear, even the will to get out of bed. What's the point? Every thing is gone and whats left doesn't seem to make sense.
I shift slightly and immediately feel Amy's arm tighten around me. She's already awake, watching me. I can feel her gaze boring into the back of my skull.
"Good morning, Ben," Her voice is impossibly gentle compared to last night's inhuman shrieking.
I turn over slowly to face her. Her purple eyes are fixed on me, unblinking, studying every micro-expression on my face.
"You didn't sleep?" I ask, my voice rough with exhaustion despite having just woken up.
Amy smiles, tracing a cool finger along my jawline. "I don't sleep," she says simply.
The thought of her watching me all night, never resting, never blinking, sends a chill down my spine. How many nights has she done this? How many hours has she spent studying me at my most vulnerable?
"Do you have class today?" she asks, her finger continuing its path down my neck, across my collarbone.
"No," I mumble, staring at the ceiling. "I don't have classes on Friday."
Amy sighs. "Well, I do."
Amy suddenly pulls away from me, sliding out of bed in one fluid motion. Her body ripples slightly as she stands, clothes materializing over her naked form, a simple black dress, and those ballet flats she seems to prefer.
"I should get ready," she says reluctantly.
She leans over the bed, pressing a cool kiss to my forehead. "Don't forget to eat, okay darling?" Her voice carries an unusual edge of concern, almost maternal in its intensity.
I nod mechanically, unable to muster the energy to speak. The hollowness inside me has transformed into a crushing weight, making it difficult to even breathe. Everything feels pointless, meaningless. I stare at the ceiling, counting the tiny cracks in the paint as Amy finishes getting ready.
"I'll be back this afternoon," she says, lingering at the bedroom door. "I love you."
I turn my head slightly to look at her but say nothing in return. Her eyes flash with something, hurt, maybe, or anger, but she doesn't press the issue. She just smiles tightly and walks away. A moment later, I hear the front door close.
Alone at last, I roll onto my side and pull the blanket over my head. The darkness is comforting, a physical manifestation of the emptiness consuming me. I wonder idly what Amy will do today. If she'll try to absorb someone.
Would I even know if she killed someone? Would there be any evidence, or would people just... disappear? A classmate, a professor, someone who looked at me the wrong way in Amy's eyes.
I should care more. I should do something to stop her. But what could I possibly do? She's not human. She's stronger than me, faster than me, and she's made it clear she'll never let me go. Even death isn't an escape option anymore.
"…. Should I bring this to the police? She'd just kill the police then, right?" I wonder out loud.
My stomach lets out a long, angry growl that breaks through my existential dread. I realize I haven't eaten since yesterday.
With a groan, I push myself up from the bed. My muscles protest after hours of lying motionless, but the gnawing emptiness in my stomach provides enough motivation to stumble to the bathroom.
The hot water feels good against my skin. I scrub myself quickly, not wanting to waste time when my body is demanding food with increasing urgency.
As I towel off and throw on some clothes, I consider my options. The fridge is completely empty, Amy and I demolished everything during the week. The campus dining hall is too far, and I don't want to risk running into Liz again.
"Convenience store it is," I mutter to myself, grabbing my wallet and keys.
The store is only a block away from my apartment building, close enough that I can make the trip in under five minutes. The walk helps clear my head, the crisp morning air filling my lungs and bringing me back to some semblance of awareness.
The electronic bell chimes as I push open the door to 7/11. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting everything in that familiar harsh glow. It's nearly empty inside, just me and the bored-looking cashier scrolling through her phone.
I wander down the aisles, grabbing a basket and filling it with whatever looks appetizing, a pre-made sandwich, some chips, a Hershey's bar, and a large bottle of water. Simple survival foods that require zero effort.
I pay for my haul and step back outside, squinting against the sudden brightness. My stomach growls again, more insistent this time. The thought of walking all the way back to my apartment before eating feels impossible.
Across the street, there's a small park with a few benches scattered around. Perfect. I jog across during a break in traffic and collapse onto the nearest bench, already tearing open the sandwich packaging with desperate fingers.
The first bite hits my empty stomach like a revelation. I devour half the sandwich in under a minute, barely tasting it, just filling the void. As my hunger subsides slightly, I become more aware of my surroundings. The park is mostly empty at this hour, just a few joggers and people walking their dogs. The spring air carries the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers.
It should be nice. It should make me feel something. But the dread sitting heavy in my chest doesn't budge. The sandwich turns to ash in my mouth as I think about Amy, about what she might be doing right now, about the bizarre prison my life has become.
I finish eating mechanically, crumpling the wrappers and empty chip bag in my fist. As I stand to throw everything in the nearby trash can, a flash of blonde catches my eye.
Liz.
She's walking along the sidewalk on the other side of the park, heading in the direction of campus. Her hair is pulled back in that familiar ponytail, a light jacket thrown over her shoulders against the morning chill. She looks down at her phone, then back up at the path ahead, then down at her phone again.
My heart lurches painfully in my chest. Before I can think better of it, my feet are moving, carrying me after her. I keep a good distance between us, just close enough to keep her in sight. This is stupid. Dangerous, even. If Amy found out...
But I can't help myself. I need to see her, to know something, anything about this version of Liz. What kind of life does she lead here? Is she happy? Does she ever feel like something's missing?
I trail her down three blocks. She looks healthy and more muscular than my Liz.
'I'm so happy she's eating well. My Liz would forget to eat until she was starving.'
The campus comes into view, its brick buildings rising against the blue spring sky.
Liz takes a turn toward the psychology building, climbing the steps with a cute little bounce in her stride. I hang back, watching as she disappears through the glass doors.
I turn away from the psychology building, a bitter lump forming in my throat. What am I doing? Following her like some creepy stalker won't change anything. She's not my Liz. She never will be.
As I pivot to head back to my apartment, I collide hard with someone, my shoulder slamming into theirs.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I stammer, automatically reaching out to steady myself.
The figure I've bumped into is wearing an oversized gray hoodie pulled low, completely obscuring their face. Something about their stance, the way they hold themselves, sends a chill of recognition down my spine.
"My, my, Ben," comes a silky voice from beneath the hood. "I told you to leave Liz alone, remember?"
Melissa. My blood runs cold as she tilts her head up just enough for me to see her smile, predatory and calculating.
Before I can respond, she gives a subtle nod to someone behind me. Strong hands grip my shoulders, yanking me backward. I try to cry out, but a palm clamps firmly over my mouth as I'm dragged into the narrow alley between two campus buildings.
The person holding me is huge, easily overpowering my struggles. Their hand presses harder against my mouth, fingers digging into my cheeks painfully.
"Ms. Porter is off limits, remember?" Melissa hisses, keeping her hood pulled low over her face as she steps closer. The shadows within the hood seem unnaturally deep, her eyes barely visible pinpricks of cold light.
"I wasn't…" I start to protest, but the hand over my mouth tightens, cutting off my words.
Melissa laughs, the sound like ice cracking. "Please, Ben. Do you think I'm stupid? I have eyes everywhere on this campus." She gestures vaguely toward the psychology building. "Her potential is too valuable to leave unmonitored."
My captor's grip shifts slightly, allowing me to speak. "I just saw her walking. I didn't even talk to her."
"Intent matters," Melissa says, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Your little obsession is becoming tiresome."
Melissa steps aside, revealing another woman standing behind her. Tall and muscular, with close-cropped hair and features that seem carved from stone.
She nods toward the girl. "Hilda, teach him a lesson."
Hilda cracks her knuckles and takes a menacing step forward. My heart hammers against my ribcage as I try to shrink away from her, but the iron grip on my shoulders holds me in place.
"Hey! What the fuck is going on here?"
The voice rings out from the entrance of the alley. We all turn to see Riley striding toward us, her muscular frame radiating confidence. Her short red hair is slightly tousled, and her purple eyes wide.