4 The man in black

I clutch the note to my chest and sniff, trying to force tears away. Oh, I don't know how I'm going to face Rose's parents if I find her dead. I don't want to even imagine finding Rose dead, but it's hard not to.

Rose was always the braver of the two of us. While I hid from heartbreak and pain in the safety of my home, she traveled and explored. Yet when I needed her, she was always there for me, and I for her. This won't change now.

With several deep breaths, I almost force myself to not wallow in my grief. Then I wash my face, blow my nose and distract myself with thinking.

Rose's note didn't give me any ideas on where to seek answers. This left my previous plan—ask locals until they answer. They *must* know something.

I also want to look for Rose's car. If I find it, I will immediately prove that Hank lied.

I hug my shoulders, suddenly cold. Could this be a work of some serial killer? I might be in terrible danger. Rose was sure I am. But I can't go back. No.

Still, I go to my bag and carefully pull out a handgun. I check that it's loaded and on safety, and stuff it in the inner pocket of my hoodie.

There's still a couple hours until evening. Enough time to explore the town and pester people on the streets. My mind whirls, pushing me into motion. The inspiration to act drags me forward just like it would drag me to write down ideas.

I walk the streets on foot, looking around like a hound. If I could literally sniff Rose out there, I'd do it, but instead I seek for a hint of her presence or for any passersby. But at this hour, the city looks almost abandoned.

I see a couple of teens chatting in hushed tones on a bench, but they raise and leave as soon as they see me approaching. An old man mows the lawn with a pair of huge garden scissors, but at my offer to help drops everything and hides inside his house.

It's disconcerting, to say the least. So when I finally notice a man on the street who doesn't look at me like I'm a plague victim, I'm already elated.

The man's dressed in a long black coat, probably too cold for the weather, but not by much. His hair lies in thick curls and waves that fall to his collar, some of them obstructing his eyes from me as he looks somewhere to the side.

"Mister! Hello, can I talk with you for a moment?" I ask, almost running towards him, and halt two steps away.

From here, I can't avoid noticing how gorgeous the man is. His skin is pale, almost sickly so, but it doesn't make him appear weak—only more weird. Mysterious. Curious. He has a firm chin, a perfectly straight, sharp nose, and thin lips, pressed into an inscrutable line. Each feature looks like I described it in text and then imagined a perfect version of what they could've been.

I want the man to look at me, so I could see all of him. The coat hides most of his figure, but he's at least six feet tall, and his back is straight like a stick. He must have at least some muscle under all this clothing.

I shake my head. Those are silly thoughts of a woman who didn't have any in a long, long time. I have Rose in mind... And the man still doesn't react to my appearance.

Creeping worry replaces my momentary shock over the stranger's handsomeness.

"Mister?"

Do I imagine it, or it suddenly becomes too quiet even for this ghost-like town?

The stranger's head slowly turns towards me. When his eyes meet mine, I feel like I was dunked into a bathtub of icy water.

The eyes that look at me don't have whites and irises. They are filled with inky darkness without a glimpse of light in it from top to bottom. Despite that, I'm sure there *is* a pupil, because I *feel* the man's gaze on me, heavy and choking. His lips stretch into a small smile. If not for his eyes, it would look kind.

The man moves, and this jolts me out of my shock. I stumble away, clasping a hand over my mouth not to scream. I can't scream. Only mad people scream. I should...

I don't have much time to think or fight panic. The man lifts a hand and points at something far away. He stays like that for a second, ignoring me except for his gaze, before just disappearing.

No poof, no smoke, no thunder. It's like he wasn't there at all.

I'm sure he wasn't. Men can't just appear and disappear out of thin air. No, no, no! This is just like the Incident. Things happened, but they weren't real. But I'm not *that* insane, right? So I had to keep them down. They *didn't* happen, after all, it was just... my vivid imagination. Very vivid.

"I am normal. I am ordinary. Normal!" I choke out. "Rose, have to find Rose."

There's a bench not far away, and I manage to get to it and just sit down. I need tea and chocolates, but I also need to keep searching.

And despite all my attempts to convince myself to forget the stranger with black eyes, my eyes follow towards the direction he was pointing at.

There's nothing special—just another house. But right next to it is a grocery store, and I jump to my feet. Time to get that tea, even if it will be cold and bottled, and drown my stress in sugar.

Besides, the store's cashier will have nowhere to run from my questions.