2 Shadows That Follow

Leila couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

It clung to her like a second skin, prickling at the back of her neck as she walked through town the next morning. The streets were alive with the usual small-town routine—shopkeepers setting up displays, an old couple chatting by the café, kids on bikes racing past—but beneath the ordinary, something felt off.

It was in the way people glanced at her. Quick, fleeting looks. A little too curious. A little too knowing.

Her mind kept circling back to the night before.

To him.

The man who had stopped her. Who had disappeared.

Who had known her name.

She had spent half the night convincing herself it was a trick of the mind. That maybe exhaustion had played with her senses. But deep down, she knew better.

Something had happened last night.

Something real.

And she needed answers.

The bookstore was quiet when she stepped inside.

Warm light pooled across wooden floors, and the air smelled of old pages and vanilla-scented candles. It was her safe place, the one spot in town that had always felt like hers.

But today, even here, the unease lingered.

"Rough night?"

Leila turned to find Naomi, the store's owner, watching her from behind the counter.

Naomi was in her mid-fifties, with streaks of silver in her dark curls and sharp eyes that missed nothing.

Leila forced a smile. "Something like that."

Naomi studied her, then nodded toward the back of the shop. "There's coffee in the back. Help yourself."

Leila hesitated, then took the offer.

The small break room was cozy, filled with soft chairs and an old record player. She poured herself a cup, the warmth grounding her, but the moment she brought the mug to her lips—

A whisper.

Faint. Just behind her.

Her entire body went rigid.

She turned sharply, eyes scanning the room.

Nothing.

The door was shut. The space was empty.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

You're imagining things.

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

But when she opened them again—

He was there.

Standing in the doorway.

Watching her.

Her breath caught.

It was him.

The stranger from the alley.

Adrian.

She hadn't realized until now that she had known his name all along. It had settled in her mind, unspoken but familiar, like it had always been there.

He was just as striking in the daylight—perhaps even more so.

The soft glow of morning light sharpened the angles of his face, his dark hair falling carelessly over his forehead. He wore black, the kind of fitted clothing that blended with shadows, emphasizing the unnatural grace in his stance.

But his eyes—

They weren't black anymore.

They were red.

A deep, smoldering crimson, like embers hidden beneath ash.

Leila's grip tightened around her mug. "What the hell are you?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

She backed up instinctively, pressing herself against the counter.

"You're afraid," Adrian murmured.

"No shit," she snapped, but her voice was shaky. "You—your eyes—"

"They change."

"Yeah, I got that part. Why do they change?"

Adrian regarded her for a long moment. Then, quietly, "Because I'm not human."

The words sent a chill through her.

She had suspected. Of course, she had. But hearing him say it—so calmly, so certainly—made it real.

Too real.

Leila swallowed. "Then what are you?"

Adrian's lips curled slightly, but there was no humor in it.

"A monster."

The room seemed to close in around her.

Leila's heart pounded against her ribs, every instinct screaming at her to run. But she didn't.

She couldn't.

Because despite the fear clawing at her, there was something else—

Curiosity.

Adrian watched her carefully, his red eyes scanning her face as if searching for something.

"You should leave this town, Leila," he said softly. "You don't belong here."

She stiffened. "I grew up here."

"Then you should know." His gaze darkened. "This place isn't safe."

Leila gritted her teeth. "Why do people keep saying that?"

Adrian didn't answer. Instead, he lifted a hand—slowly, deliberately.

For a second, she thought he might touch her.

But instead, he gestured to the window.

Leila turned her head—

And her blood ran cold.

Outside, across the street, stood a man in a dark coat.

He wasn't moving.

Wasn't blinking.

Just watching.

A shiver crawled up her spine. "Who is that?"

Adrian's jaw tightened. "A warning."

Her breath hitched. "For me?"

"For both of us."

Leila's hands curled into fists. "I want answers."

Adrian exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "You ask too many questions."

"And you give shitty answers."

For a moment, something flickered in his expression—something almost amused.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—

"You're not ready for the truth, Leila."

She glared at him. "Try me."

Adrian studied her, and for a split second, his expression shifted—

Something hungry.

Something dangerous.

And then, he was gone.

Just like before.

Vanishing into thin air, leaving behind nothing but the lingering scent of smoke and something darkly sweet.

Leila's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps.

Outside, the man in the coat had disappeared too.

She gripped the counter, her knuckles white.

She had spent her whole life in this town.

And for the first time—

She realized she didn't really know it at all.