#boyd

The laugh outside is soft.

Almost pleased.

Like it’s enjoying the fact that I understood it enough to react.

I swallow hard. My mouth feels dry.

“I…” My voice breaks slightly. I clear my throat. “It’s saying I’m still waiting for something.”

Boyd’s expression doesn’t change, but something in his eyes sharpens.

Kenny pushes off the wall a little.

“Waiting for what?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head fast.

“I don’t know.”

That’s the truth.

And it feels worse than anything else I could’ve said.

Because the thing outside doesn’t sound like it’s guessing. It sounds like it’s correcting me.

Another tap hits the glass.

Once.

Deliberate.

Then the voice returns, closer than before.

“You know.”

My stomach drops.

“No,” I whisper automatically.

Boyd raises a hand slightly. A silent warning.

“Don’t engage,” he says.

But it’s too late. Because something in me already did.

Outside, the figure shifts. Just slightly. Enough that I see the outline of its face better. Still human-shaped. Still wrong.

The smile doesn’t move.

But the eyes-

the eyes feel like they’re holding something still.

Like they’ve been waiting a very long time for me to answer correctly.

Kenny moves closer to Boyd.

“Has it ever done that before?” I ask, voice thin.

Boyd doesn’t answer right away.

That silence is answer enough.

My chest tightens.

“So this is normal for you?” I say, louder now. “People standing outside saying creepy personal stuff and you just ignore it until it goes away?”

Kenny flinches slightly at my tone.

Boyd finally speaks.

“It doesn’t go away,” he says.

That lands wrong. My brain tries to reject it immediately.

“What do you mean it doesn’t go away?”

A beat.

Then Boyd says it like he hates the sentence before it leaves his mouth:

“It waits until you let it in.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Thick.

Outside, the voice softens again. Almost conversational now.

“You always do this part the same way.”

My breath catches.

Kenny looks at me. Really looks. Like he’s trying to understand something he’s not equipped for.

“Did it say that to you before?” he asks.

I shake my head quickly.

“No. I’ve never been here before. I’ve never—”

But even as I say it, my stomach twists harder.

Because the certainty in the voice isn’t about location.

It isn’t about the town. It’s about me.

Boyd steps forward again, this time toward me instead of the window.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly.

I force my eyes onto him.

“Whatever it says, whatever it’s trying to make you think, it’s not you.”

I laugh once. Small. Broken.

“Then what is it?”

Boyd hesitates.

That hesitation feels like a crack forming in something solid.

Then-

“It’s what’s out there,” he says simply. “And it’ll use whatever it can get.”

Outside, the smile widens.

Like it heard him. Like it agrees.

And then-

the voice lowers again.

Soft.

Almost intimate.

“Still waiting for the drop.”

My entire body goes cold.

Everything stops.

Not metaphorically.

Not emotionally.

Physically.

Because that sentence-

that sentence doesn’t belong in this place.

That sentence belongs in me.

My knees feel weak. I take a step back without realizing it.

Kenny notices immediately.

“Hey,” he says sharply, moving toward me.

But I can’t look away from the window anymore.

Because the thing outside-

it’s not just smiling now.

It looks satisfied.

Like it finally said the right thing.

And I realize, with a sick twist in my stomach-

it didn’t just find me. It recognized me.

Kenny notices before I do.

"Hey."

His voice cuts through whatever is happening in my head.

I blink.

The room rushes back all at once.

The desk. The walls.

Boyd standing a few feet away.

My own heartbeat pounding so hard it feels like it's shaking my ribs.

Only then do I realize my hand is pressed against my stomach. Like I'm trying to hold something still.

Kenny takes a step closer.

"Are you okay?"

No. Not even a little.

But I can't explain why.

Because the feeling is wrong.

Not stronger.

Different.

My whole life that unease sat low in my stomach like background noise. Constant. Familiar. A song playing in another room that I eventually stopped hearing.

Now it feels concentrated.

Focused.

Like somebody took all of it and shoved it into one tiny spot beneath my ribs. Like it's pointing somewhere.

The thing outside hums softly.

My stomach twists again.

Hard.

A sharp breath escapes me.

Boyd notices immediately.

His eyes narrow.

"What is it?"

"I..." I swallow. "I don't know."

Another soft tap against the glass.

The feeling spikes. Instantly.

So sudden my knees nearly buckle.

Kenny reaches out automatically, grabbing my arm before I can stumble.

His hand is warm.

Solid. Real.

"What happened?" he asks.

I stare at the floor. At his hand around my sleeve. At the way my fingers are shaking.

"It..." My voice comes out thin. "It did it again."

Kenny and Boyd exchange a look.

Not the weird silent communication thing again.

Anything but that.

"What did?" Boyd asks carefully.

I slowly lift my head.

"The feeling."

Silence.

Great.

Perfect.

I sound insane now.

I laugh weakly.

"I know how that sounds."

Neither of them says anything. That somehow makes it worse.

I press my hand harder against my stomach.

"It's just..." I shake my head. "I've always had this weird feeling. Like..." I hesitate.

Because I've never actually said this out loud before. Not really.

"Like a constant pit in my stomach. Call it impending doom or something like that. My whole life I've felt like I have been just waiting for something bad to happen but it never comes."

The room goes still.

Outside, the thing laughs again.

Soft. Pleased.

And my stomach twists so violently I flinch.

Kenny's eyes flick to me immediately. Then to the window. Then back to me.

Slowly, his expression changes.

Not fear.

Not confusion.

Something else.

Because he saw it too.

The timing.

And suddenly I realize the feeling isn't happening randomly.

It's happening every time it speaks.

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i know this chapter is a bit short but i have been busy and lacking inspo :,)

give me some suggestions or ideas in the comments, if you'd like

-nora