PROLOGUE
Heather sat cross-legged on the old rug in her bedroom, paint smudged on her little hands and the paper in front of her. Outside, the rain tapped on the window, turning the world into blurry shades of gray and green. She didn’t mind. The storm made everything quiet, like the world had stopped so she could paint.
Her brush moved slowly, painting a bright yellow sun that didn’t match the gloomy sky outside. She frowned a little as she added a tree with big branches, its roots reaching to the edge of the paper. Downstairs, she could hear her mother humming softly. The sound, mixed with the rain, felt as calm as a lullaby.
As Heather reached for more paint, her hand froze. Something about the corner of her picture felt wrong. Slowly, she dipped her fingers into the black paint and dragged it across the page. The dark streak turned into a strange shadow, stretching over the bright sun and the peaceful tree.
Her chest felt tight, and she didn’t know why. It was just a painting, but the shadow made her uneasy. She glanced at the window, where the rain was still falling, harder now. The glass shook slightly with the wind, and for a moment, she thought she saw something move outside—a shape, dark and quick, slipping past the edge of the yard.
“Heather, dinner soon!” her mother called from downstairs. Her voice broke the quiet, but it didn’t chase away the strange feeling. Heather set down her brush and stared at her painting. The shadow seemed bigger now, darker, like it didn’t want to stay on the paper.
Heather shook her head in order to escape the unease she was feeling. She looked outside the window and saw that the rain had now stopped.
She made her way downstairs to eat dinner. She was too innocent to still think about what happened in her room upstairs, she was jumping down the stairs with excitement for the dinner.
Heather hugged her mom from behind, the little girl barely reaching her mother’s waist. “Mom, what’s for dinner today?” She spoke asking Lyla, Her mother.
Lyla smiled at Heather’s excited tone, “I made Garlic Butter Chicken with Rice, How’s that, huh?” Heather nodded with happiness “sounds tasty! I can’t wait to try it mom!”
Few minutes later Heather looked around the house, searching for her dad. “Mom, where’s Dad?”
Her mom glanced up from the kitchen counter. “He’s out back, working in the garden.”
“But he said he’d be home hours ago,” Heather said, frowning.
Her mom shrugged. “I think he’s just taking his time.”
Heather still felt uneasy, but nodded and headed toward the back door. Something about the situation didn’t sit right with her.
Heather stepped outside, looking around the backyard. The garden was quiet, and she couldn’t see her dad.
“Dad?” she called, her voice unsure.
She heard something behind the shed and walked toward it. Her dad stepped out, looking a little messy.
“Hey, Heather,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “What’s going on?”
“I was looking for you,” she replied. “Mom said you were working in the garden.”
“I was,” he said quickly. “Just needed some time alone.”
“Is everything okay?” Heather asked, feeling uneasy.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he answered, forcing a smile.
Heather didn’t believe him, but nodded. “Okay, Dad.” She felt like something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what to say.
She stood there, watching her dad closely. His expression was tense, and there was something about his movements that seemed off. She wanted to press him for answers, but he seemed determined to keep things vague.
“Dad, is there something you’re not telling me?” she finally asked, her voice trembling a bit.
Her dad blinked, staring at the ground for a moment before looking up at her, his eyes a little distant.
“Just… some things to work through, Heather,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
Heather couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong. Her father’s voice sounded strained, and she noticed a strange edge in his expression.
“Dad, really, what’s going on?” Heather persisted, unable to hide the concern in her voice.
Her dad just shook his head, avoiding her gaze once again. “It’s fine, Heather. I just need some time to myself.”
Heather knew she wouldn’t get any more answers tonight, so she reluctantly backed away, feeling more unsettled than ever. As she watched her dad disappear back behind the shed, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was hiding.
Heather walked back into the house, trying to push the worry aside. Her mom was still in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove.
“Everything okay?” her mom asked, not looking up.
“Yeah,” Heather said, sitting down at the table. “He just needed some space.”
Her mom nodded, but Heather could tell she wasn’t sure either. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Heather barely heard her. Her mind kept going back to her dad. His face, his strange behavior—it didn’t feel right. She glanced out the window, but the backyard was empty.
Something was off. And Heather wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out what it was.
After dinner. Heather stood at the door, staring into the dark backyard. The silence felt wrong, like something was hiding in the shadows. She couldn’t shake the unease from her mind, so after dinner, she slipped out of the house. She didn’t know why—she just felt like she had to.
The cold air hit her as she stepped outside. The backyard was still, too still. She moved toward the shed, her footsteps echoing in the quiet.
Then she heard it—a scraping noise, like something dragging along the ground. Her heart raced. It was coming from behind the shed.
Heather froze, holding her breath. The noise stopped. She carefully stepped closer to the corner, peering around it.
And there he was.
Her dad stood there, facing away from her. His arms hung at his sides, his body stiff and unmoving.
“Dad?” Heather whispered, her voice trembling.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even turn around.
“Dad?” she repeated, louder this time.
He slowly turned his head, his eyes dark, his face blank. When he spoke, his voice was wrong—flat, cold. “Heather, I told you to stay inside.”
Her breath caught in her throat. His voice didn’t sound like him at all. It was empty, almost unnatural.
Without saying another word, he turned and disappeared into the dark, behind the shed again.
Heather stood there, frozen. Something was terribly wrong.
Heather’s heart raced as her dad disappeared behind the shed. She wanted to run, but something held her there, something pulling her toward the shadows. Her feet felt heavy as she moved closer, a strange force pushing her forward, despite every instinct screaming at her to turn back.
The scraping noise came again, louder this time, dragging across the ground like nails on a chalkboard. She winced, but kept walking, her breath shallow in the cold night air.
When she reached the corner of the shed, she hesitated. Then, she peeked around it.
Her dad was standing there, facing her. But his face was wrong. His eyes were too wide, too empty. His mouth hung open in a strange, silent scream, though no sound came out. His body was rigid, unnatural, like he was frozen in place.
“Dad?” Heather’s voice trembled, barely a whisper.
For a moment, there was no response. Then, slowly, his head tilted to one side, like he was studying her. His lips curled into a faint, twisted smile.
“Heather,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “You shouldn’t have come.”
Before she could react, something cold gripped her ankle, yanking her off her feet. She gasped, scrambling to break free, but the cold fingers tightened, pulling her toward the dark corner of the yard.
She twisted around, her eyes wide with fear, but her dad—her not-dad—just stood there, watching. His smile grew wider.
The darkness around her seemed to close in, swallowing everything, and Heather’s scream was lost in the quiet night.
And then, everything went black…
