The First Tremors of Fear

Ashley Miller's phone buzzed on her nightstand, dragging her from sleep. She fumbled for it, squinting against the blue light. A notification from her email app blinked insistently.

*Draft saved: 3:47 AM.*

Her brow furrowed. She hadn't written any drafts.

The moment she opened it, her blood turned to ice.

*"You thought you buried the past. But the dead don't stay forgotten."*

The phone clattered to the floor. Her breath came in short, panicked bursts.

"No... no no no..."

She scrambled to pick it up, fingers trembling as she checked the sender.

*No address. No trace.*

Just like that night six months ago, when Emma's broken body had lain motionless on the rain-slicked road—

When they'd driven away without looking back.

---

### **The Web Tightens**

Emma observed Ashley's panic through a backdoor in her email server. The girl's frantic Google searches—*"Can drafts be hacked?" "How to trace anonymous messages"*—scrolled across Emma's secondary monitor in real time.

[System Notification: Surveillance successful. Hacking Proficiency +50.]

A notification pinged—Josh Wright had just logged into his bank account. Emma's fingers danced across the keyboard.

[System Notification: Financial records accessed. Hacking Proficiency +75.]

Interesting. Large cash withdrawals every month. Always the same amount. Always to an unregistered account.

*Blackmail? Drugs?*

Emma leaned forward, eyes gleaming in the monitor's glow.

*Let's find out.*

---

### **Rachel's Reckoning**

The school cafeteria hummed with lunchtime chaos when Rachel "accidentally" knocked Emma's tray to the floor again.

"Oops," Rachel smirked. "Clumsy me."

Emma stared at the ruined food, then slowly raised her eyes. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"You know," Emma said, voice calm as still water, "I heard something interesting about you, Rachel."

A flicker of unease crossed Rachel's face. "W-what?"

Emma stepped closer, speaking just for her. "How your dad's construction company falsified safety reports last year. The ones for the collapsed balcony at Riverside Apartments?" Rachel went pale. "That little girl who fell three stories... what was her name again?"

Rachel's breath hitched. "H-how do you—"

Emma smiled. "Be careful where you spill your food."

She walked away, leaving Rachel shaking like a leaf in a storm.

[System Notification: Psychological warfare effective. Strategy Proficiency +100.]

---

### **Josh's Secret**

The trail led Emma to a storage unit on the outskirts of town. Josh's keycard entry logs showed weekly visits.

Security cameras were child's play to disable. The lock took three seconds to pick.

Inside: stacks of counterfeit bills, a pill press, and neatly labeled bags of white powder.

Emma snapped photos with her phone.

[System Notification: Incriminating evidence acquired. Investigation Proficiency +150.]

Then she found the ledger.

Names. Dates. Payments.

And one recurring entry: *"A.M. - $5k/m - silence"*

Emma's lips curled.

*Oh Ashley... what did you see that night?*

---

##The Trap is Set**

Emma uploaded the footage to a secure cloud, then sent two messages.

The first, to an anonymous tip line with the storage unit address.

The second, to Ashley's phone from a blocked number:

*"Josh's storage unit. 8 PM tonight. Come alone if you want to live."*

Then she settled in to watch the show.

---

### **Converging Paths**

At 7:58 PM, Ashley arrived, face drawn with terror. She hesitated at the unit door—just as police sirens wailed in the distance.

Josh burst out moments later, duffel bag in hand, only to freeze at the sight of Ashley.

"You?" he snarled. "You called the cops?"

"N-no! I got a message—"

Realization dawned on Josh's face. He lunged at her. "You stupid bi—"

Red and blue lights flooded the parking lot.

"FREEZE! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!"

Emma watched from a nearby rooftop as both were handcuffed. The look on Ashley's face—pure, primal fear—was everything she'd hoped for.

[System Notification: Primary targets neutralized. Revenge Progress: 35%.]

---

### **The Aftermath**

Back home, Emma reviewed the news reports:

*"Local students arrested in major drug bust... connection to unsolved hit-and-run being investigated..."*

She closed the laptop.

Phase one was complete.

But the others who'd stood by that night—the ones who'd laughed as Emma bled out on the pavement—they still walked free.

Emma ran a finger over the list of names on her wall.