Page 74 of Your Masked Haunting

Please be okay, baby.

Apit forms in my stomach as I fly up in bed, reality slamming into me all at once. My lungs are burning, struggling to inflate as I gasp for air, my hands cupping my throat.

A sinking feeling digs into my chest, then claws down my back, like I woke up from a horrifying nightmare and I don’t remember a thing, yet my body does, the anxiety and adrenaline still coursing through me.

“Jesus,” I mutter to Pen, a shiver running through me.

I don’t even remember passing out after work. Getting in my bed? Yes. Covering myself up with a blanket and laying my head on the pillows? Yes. Playing ASMR on YouTube on my phone to quiet my mind? Also yes. I mean, I really set myself up for quite a slumber.

Yawning, I stretch my arms over my head and pan around the room. It’s dimly lit, aside from the soft glow from my lamp on the nightstand. I grab my phone from atop the blanket and shut the video off that was autoplaying through my nap.

God, what time is it?

My eyes glaze over as a horrifying realization dawns on me. I’m frozen. It’s like my mind is finally catching up and processing the last few minutes, puzzle pieces sliding into place.

I’m suddenly aware of the sounds of the house, of the thick, eerie silence that looms in the air.

Maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe the door wasn’t …

Forcing a slow, deep breath in and out, I gain enough courage to peer up to double-check ...

My heart plummets.

My shaky breaths fill my ears, battling the sounds of my heartbeat thumping harder and harder. The door—which was, without a doubt, sealed shut when I went to sleep—is now ajar an inch from the frame, darkness seeping in from the pitch-black hallway.

“Oh God.” I shudder, fisting my blanket.

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s Casper baiting me out and absolutely not the ghost playing tricks.

“Casper?” I whisper, eagerly waiting for his response. Or waiting for a purple glow to appear in the crevice.

But neither happens for what feels like the next thirty seconds or an hour; I’m not sure from how twisted time seems to move in a moment like this.

Just relax, Mona. You’re working yourself up over a little hide-and-seek game that Casper is playing. Stop being a scaredy-cat and play along.

I’m right—well, my inner monologue is right. Sometimes, I don’t think we’re actually one and the same with how much we bicker. But this time, I think it’s right.

Well, this is either about to be a fun date night or I’m the dumb girl in the final act who is about to get murdered. Although, if I’m the final girl, I have plot armor, so I should be fine regardless. Maybe a few bumps and bruises.

But it’s not a horror movie, and I’m not the final girl. Because this is real life, not some dramatic make-believe story.

Turning my attention back to my phone, I open Casper’s messages and send one, trying to tell him that I know he’s here and also gaslight myself into fully believing it.

Casper, you little tease. I can’t believe you got done early

I’m on my way to find you

I missed you

I really have missed him. Even though we’ve been spending all of our free time together, it’ll never be enough.

Waiting a couple of minutes for him to respond, I sigh forcefully, slipping out of bed and stepping into my tennis shoes. I’m still in my leggings and a T-shirt that I changed into after work, so at least, I’m already ready to go.

Turning on the flashlight on my phone, I’m feeling grateful that I plugged it in before I fell asleep. I tiptoe up to the door, gently easing it open and lighting the dark, empty hallway, my body trembling.

But as I slowly descend to the second floor, I gradually relax more and more, having a very solid grasp that this is indeed Casper since no one’s jumped out and attacked me. Also, if it wasn’t him, he’d let me know; he’d have seen an intruder on the cameras.

As long as he was done with his game.