Chapter 4: Possessed in the Dark

Her movements were jerky, unnatural. Blood dripped from her face, staining the floorboards. I froze, unable to scream.

Blood dripped from her features as she gave me a sinister smile. "Sis, since you slept in my bed, you have to come swim with me in the pool."

Her voice was sing-song, almost playful. The invitation sent a jolt of terror through me. I shrank back, clutching the sheets.

Oh God, I was so scared I nearly lost my soul. I dove into Julian’s arms, crying, "Julian, wake up!"

I shook him, desperate. His warmth was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

If he didn’t wake up, I was going to be dragged to the pool by that faceless ghost!

I could feel her cold presence creeping closer, the air growing heavy with malice. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for a miracle.

Julian didn’t react. The ghost was about to enter the room. In desperation, I groped under the covers for the rosary beads on his wrist.

My hands fumbled in the dark, searching for the beads. I could feel my pulse racing, sweat slick on my palms.

Julian sucked in a sharp breath and said, voice rough, "Don’t grope around like that…"

His voice was rough, half-awake. I realized my hand had landed somewhere it shouldn’t, and my face burned.

My bad, I wanted the beads but grabbed his belt instead…

I was mortified, but there was no time to apologize. The ghost was getting closer, her fingers scraping the floor.

We were both still fully dressed; his belt wasn’t even undone.

But the way he groaned was so sexy and teasing, my ears nearly turned red.

I tried to focus on the danger, not the embarrassment. My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

My face flushed. Suddenly, I remembered the faceless ghost crawling toward me, and my back went cold.

Survival trumped shame. I rolled over Julian, putting as much distance between me and the ghost as possible.

Forget propriety—I rolled right over Julian to his other side.

I burrowed under the covers, clutching his chest. His heartbeat was steady, grounding me in the chaos.

I hid under the covers, hugging his chest, trembling: "The faceless ghost is here. It’s up to you."

My voice was barely a whisper, but he heard me. His hand found mine, squeezing gently.

Julian stretched his beaded hand out from under the covers.

The beads glowed faintly, casting golden light across the room. The air shifted, the temperature rising a few degrees.

The faceless ghost flinched at the golden light, fell off the windowsill, and shrank back into the pool.

I watched her retreat, relief flooding me. The room felt lighter, the darkness less oppressive.

Julian gently reminded me, "The ghost’s gone, you don’t have to hold on so tight."

His tone was soft, almost teasing. I loosened my grip, but didn’t let go entirely.

"Really gone? What if she comes back?" I didn’t dare come out from under the covers.

I peeked out, scanning the room for any sign of her. The window was empty, the pool silent.

Right now, Julian was my lifeline.

I wasn’t letting go for anything. He was the only thing standing between me and a fate worse than death.

Holding onto him was the only thing that made me feel safe.

His presence was a shield, the golden beads a barrier against the darkness. I clung to him, desperate for comfort.

"With me here, I’ll protect you." Julian pulled me up so my head could poke out for air.

His arms were gentle, but strong. I took a shaky breath, feeling a little less like I was about to die.

This hug felt so boyfriend-like, as if we weren’t meeting for the first time, but were already a couple.

I tried not to read too much into it, but the way he held me was comforting. For a moment, I let myself relax.

And when he said he’d protect me, I felt like I’d just won the lottery.

I almost laughed at the image, but the relief was real. He was my guardian angel tonight.

My face was right by Julian’s neck, my breath brushing his skin.

I could feel the heat radiating from him, his pulse steady. My own breathing slowed, matching his rhythm.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He asked, "Are you always this familiar with everyone?"

His voice was low, teasing. I pulled back, embarrassed.

"No, no." I denied it. "You’re an exception, don’t take it personally. Let’s just survive the night first."

I tried to play it cool, but my cheeks were still burning. He chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring.

Julian’s energy was strong. In front of him, I could lose my dignity and not care.

I felt safe enough to be vulnerable, to let my guard down for once.

He didn’t tell me to let go. He chatted to calm me down: "Savannah, who gave you your name?"

His voice was soft, inviting. I relaxed a little, grateful for the distraction.

I answered, "My grandpa."

I remembered the old man’s smile, the way he’d hold my hand and tell me stories about the world beyond.

He paused, then said, "Savannah, like the flower of the dead—maybe your name was always meant to attract ghosts."

His words sent a chill down my spine. I stared at him, unsure what to say.

Actually, my grandpa named me Savannah because I was born with a blood-red flower birthmark on my wrist.

I traced the mark with my finger, remembering the stories he used to tell. It always felt special, but now it seemed ominous.

I was stunned: "Huh? Is it too late to change my name now?"

I tried to make a joke of it, but the fear was real. Was my fate really sealed?

He shook his head, staring at the mark on my wrist. "Too late. That flower is a reincarnation mark. People born with it have a fate—they’re meant to help ghosts fulfill their wishes."

His gaze was intense, almost reverent. I shivered, feeling the weight of his words.

Julian suddenly looked serious. "But you have to be careful—possession is a real risk. You’ve never been possessed because you haven’t met a strong enough ghost. Until tonight."

The warning was clear. I hugged my wrist, suddenly afraid of what might come next.

His words scared me more than I wanted to admit.

I’d always known there was something different about me, but hearing it out loud made it real.

He mentioned possession, and I perked up. Every night I get sleep paralysis, it feels like a ghost is trying to possess me.

I’d never told anyone that. The sensation of being pinned down, unable to move, haunted me every night.

That I’m still alive is a miracle.

I whispered a silent thank you to whatever force had kept me safe so far.

"What should I do?" I wailed. No wonder the faceless ghost kept calling me sis—she wanted to possess me.

My voice cracked, the fear overwhelming. I clung to Julian, desperate for answers.

Ugh, manager, you really got me this time.

I made a mental note to give Lisa a piece of my mind when this was over.