DAY 3

At midnight, James' phone buzzed, but he ignored the call without even glancing at the screen. Instead, he drowned himself in old videos—memories of him and Bernice when they were still together. Each frame was a bittersweet reminder of what once was. His eyes grew heavy, and before he knew it, sleep claimed him.

He dreamt of Bernice.

"Hey, James," she said, waving at him with that familiar, mischievous smile.

"Hey, my sweet sugar bear," he replied, a warmth spreading through him as she walked toward him.

She wrapped her arms around him, and for a moment, everything felt right. "How have you been, my sweet tormentor?" she whispered.

James chuckled. "Surviving. But something tells me you have a way to make things better."

"Oh, I do," Bernice teased, running her fingers down his arm. "Be at my place tonight. I've got handcuffs... and some cravings that need satisfying."

As they drew closer, their lips mere inches apart, a loud voice interrupted. "James! Bernice! Gender meeting now!"

They sighed, stepping away from each other. "See you tonight, cowgirl," James said, winking as he left.

Bernice giggled. "I'll be ready, pounder."

The dream shifted.

James found himself outside Bernice's house, a deep sense of unease washing over him. Something was wrong. As he entered and made his way to her bedroom, his breath caught in his throat. Bernice was tied to the bed, her wrists and ankles bound. A masked man loomed over her, his body tense.

James' heart pounded as the man turned to look at him. He smiled—a sinister, knowing smile—before grabbing his clothes and bolting through the window. James stood frozen, staring at Bernice, who lay still, her expression unreadable. Confusion and heartbreak warred within him. Then—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

His alarm clock jolted him awake.

James sat up, wiping cold sweat from his brow. "Just a dream," he muttered, but the unease lingered. He checked the time. 3:00 AM. He groaned, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed. After a quick shower, he got dressed and headed downstairs to make coffee.

As he raised his cup to his lips, his phone vibrated again. And again. And again. Five calls in quick succession. He ignored them until he finished his coffee, then picked up his phone.

"A hundred and eight missed calls?" he muttered, eyes widening. "Since midnight? Who the hell...?" He checked the caller ID and felt his stomach drop.

Bernice.

He hesitated, then shook his head and pocketed his phone. Whatever it was, he wasn't ready to deal with it. He drove to work, but the nagging feeling wouldn't leave him.

At 5:35 AM, he walked into the office, only to be greeted by his colleague, Jake.

"James, we need to talk."

James sighed. "What now?"

"I got a call from Bernice this morning," Jake said, his tone serious. "She sounded bad. Said she was attacked. She might need help."

James clenched his jaw but gave a curt nod before walking away. He wasn't sure if he could face Bernice, not after everything.

Later that day, he received a letter. The cadet handing it to him gave a small nod.

"Thank you, Johansen," James said absentmindedly.

"It's Johansen, sir."

"Right. Sorry."

James entered his car and unfolded the letter.

"Wreck it down, but he stands in my way. I want to make it nicer and mall attractive, but he won't listen even though I would pay him UP."

James read the cryptic message over and over. He broke it down piece by piece. "Mall attractive... I think I know where this is leading." His pulse quickened as he started the car and drove off.

An hour later, he arrived at a construction site. In the center stood an old, stubborn house—one that had refused to be torn down. James walked towards it, scanning the area, but no one reacted to his presence. Frustrated, he turned back to his car.

A note was stuck to his windshield.

James peeled it off and unfolded it with shaking hands.

"Ugh, you finally made it. What took you so long? And where's your friend? Anyway, you're too little, too late. And I promise you, James Bonnie, I am going to make these next twenty-one days the worst days of your life. Then, I'll kill you."

James' blood ran cold. He looked around, eyes darting through the shadows. "What did I ever do to you?!" he shouted into the empty night.

Before he could react, someone grabbed him from behind and blindfolded him.

A voice, rough and filled with rage, whispered in his ear. "You still don't remember me, do you?"

James struggled, but the grip tightened.

"Middle school. You transferred, and my girlfriend dumped me for you. Third year, another girlfriend—gone, to you. High school, same story. College? You stole every girl I ever loved. And that was the last straw. I vowed to destroy everything you care about. So I stalked you. And when I saw Bernice, I knew—this was the way to break you. I took her, James. I made sure you watched."

James' breath hitched. "Who the hell are you?!"

The man chuckled. "Oh, look who's finally catching up. It's me. Regnald."

James' body stiffened. "You killed my friends."

"Yes. And I'll do worse." Regnald dropped something into James' lap. A knife. "But first, you should check on Bernice. Time is running out."

James wasted no time. He freed himself, jumped into his car, and sped to Bernice's place.

He burst into her room, but the heat hit him like a wave. Bernice lay in bed, her body burning up. "Bernice!" He rushed to her side, but she was too weak to respond. Without thinking, he climbed into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her, willing her to hold on.

Hours later, Bernice woke up in a hospital bed. James sat at the foot of her bed, head bowed. "James..." she whispered.

He looked up, his face gaunt with exhaustion. He forced a smile before his body gave in and collapsed.

"Doctor!" Bernice screamed, her voice weak but desperate. Medical staff rushed in, checking his vitals. One of them turned to Bernice.

"You've been in a coma for three days. And in all that time, he never left your side. He hasn't eaten. Hasn't slept."

Later, when James finally awoke, Bernice was there, sitting at the foot of his bed. He smiled weakly. "Hey, girl."

She let out a relieved laugh before throwing her arms around him.

They left the hospital together, but as they reached James' car, he noticed papers stuck to the windshield. He sighed, pulling them off. "Regnald?" he muttered.

As they got inside, James turned to Bernice. "I'm sorry for everything. I—"

She placed a finger on his lips. "Shh. It's okay."

James nodded. Bernice leaned in, and as their lips drew closer—

A loud honk from behind snapped them back to reality. They laughed, sat back, and drove off into the unknown.