She Came With the Storm

It started on a rainy Tuesday.



Alex was just heading home when he saw her —

a girl with long, wavy brown hair, soaked in rain, standing at the campus gate with blood on her hands and a knife in her grip.



He should’ve run.

But something made him stay.



She didn’t scream. She cried — silent, shaking —

and kept stabbing whatever was beneath her.



The body had pink hair, now matted with blood and rain, sprawled at her feet like something that should’ve stayed buried.



Then —

his phone beeped.



She looked up.

Eyes empty and wild.

And she walked toward him.



“Turn it off,” she whispered.

“Before they hear us.”