You’re Next
Alisha froze, her eyes wide. “What?” she asked sharply.
Elsa’s voice was shaking, but she repeated, “Miss Aubrey went to the Black Cross Bar that night. That’s where she was before she disappeared. She went alone… she was heartbroken because her boyfriend had just broken up with her.”
Alisha’s heart pounded. “She was alone?”
Elsa nodded quickly. “Yes. She told me not to say anything to her parents. She wanted a night to clear her head. She begged me not to tell them.”
Joel frowned and leaned closer. “Her boyfriend… did the police already look into him?”
“Yes,” Elsa said softly. “Her ex, Dr. Adrian Santos. He’s a surgeon. The police checked—he was in the hospital that whole day and night. He had an operation and stayed overnight after. They cleared him.”
Sam crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. “Then why do Mr. and Mrs. Moore think she went to the market?”
Elsa hesitated, glancing back toward the mansion. “That day… the Moore’s were preparing for a thanksgiving party. Miss Aubrey studied culinary arts. She always bought the ingredients herself. So when she didn’t come home, they thought she went to the market… but she didn’t.”
Alisha’s voice was sharp now. “Then why are you pointing us toward the bar, Elsa? Why do you seem to blame it?”
Elsa lowered her head and scratched her arm nervously. “I don’t know. I just feel… Miss Aubrey never came back. Like she’s still there. I can’t explain it. But something about that bar… it doesn’t feel right.”
Alisha let out a hard sigh and rubbed her forehead. “Alright, Elsa. If we get any news about Aubrey, we’ll tell you. But I’m sure that bar is clean.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned sharply and walked toward their van, arms crossed tightly against her chest.
Joel and Sam followed, exchanging uneasy glances. Once they were inside the van, Joel tilted his head toward her.
“What’s with the storm cloud look?” Joel asked.
“Yeah,” Sam added, “you look mad enough to punch someone.”
Alisha’s eyes were blazing. “Because that maid is basically blaming Dave.”
Joel blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Whoa, hold on. She never said Dave. She just said she had a feeling Aubrey was still at the bar.”
“That’s the same thing!” Alisha snapped, her voice low but fierce. “Dave owns the Black Cross Bar. If she’s saying Aubrey disappeared there, then she’s saying it’s his fault.”
Joel shook his head. “You’re overthinking this.”
Sam leaned back, frowning. “Maybe not. What if there’s some truth to what Elsa feels?”
Alisha shot him a glare. “Don’t start, Sam. Dave would never—”
A loud bang cut her off, shaking the van.
All three jumped.
“What the hell was that?” Joel shouted, whipping his head toward the window.
Sam’s eyes widened. “Something just hit us!”
Alisha’s breath caught as she slowly turned her head.
There, right outside the van’s window, stood Archie. The same filthy beggar from earlier. His face was smeared with dirt, his hair wild, and his lips twisted into a crooked grin.
He slapped his grimy hand on the glass again—smack!—and laughed, his eyes locked on Alisha.
“Pretty girl,” he hissed through the glass, though they couldn’t hear the words, only see the shape of them on his lips.
Alisha’s blood turned to ice.
Joel’s hand moved to the door handle instinctively, but Sam grabbed his arm. “Don’t! Don’t open it.”
Archie leaned in closer, pressing his face to the glass, his eyes gleaming with madness. He mouthed words slowly, deliberately, so Alisha could read them.
“You’re next.”
Alisha’s heart slammed in her chest.
“He’s just trying to scare us,” Joel muttered, but even his voice wavered.
“No,” Alisha whispered.
Archie suddenly licked the glass, dragging his tongue across it, before banging on the window again, harder this time. The sound echoed in their ears.
“Drive!” Alisha screamed.
Joel fumbled for the keys, his hands trembling. He started the engine, and the van roared to life. But Archie didn’t move. He stood in front of the hood now, laughing as though daring them to hit him.
“Get out of the way, you freak!” Sam shouted from inside.
Archie spread his arms wide like a man welcoming death. His eyes never left Alisha’s face.
Joel slammed on the horn. The sound blasted through the air, but Archie only laughed harder.
“Joel, go!” Alisha cried, tears stinging her eyes.
With a hard shove of the gas, Joel jerked the van forward. Archie stepped aside at the last second, slapping his hand against the side as they sped past him.
Alisha twisted in her seat, looking back. Archie stood in the middle of the road, his laughter echoing in the distance as he raised his arms and shouted something they couldn’t hear.
Her whole body shook. She pressed a hand over her mouth, struggling to breathe.
“That… that man is insane,” Sam muttered.
Joel gripped the wheel tight, his knuckles white. “I swear, if he ever touches you again…”
But Alisha barely heard them. Her mind was racing, her stomach in knots.
Elsa’s words echoed in her head.
She went to the Black Cross Bar.
Her chest tightened. Dave’s face flashed in her mind—his warm smile, the way he always called to check on her, the protective way he held her hand.
“Alisha,” Joel said softly, “you okay?”
She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. “What if Elsa’s right?”
The van drove on in silence. Outside, the sun was sinking, and shadows stretched across the road.
Behind them, far in the distance, Archie still stood there. Watching.
And smiling.