She carried the striped top to the garbage can at the side of the house, lifted the lid, preparing to toss the shirt inside.

A frantic flapping of wings within the container startled her.

There, inside the garbage bin, the blackbird with the broken neck thrashed about inside the plastic bag, its talons unable to tear through its transparent prison. After one last burst of violent fluttering, the bird went still.

BUMP. The door of the wooden tool shed in the back corner of the yard swung open.

"Dad?" Lyla called meekly.

No answer.

She covered the bagged bird in the garbage can with her striped top and closed the container's lid.

The tool shed door bumped again.

She crossed the yard, her nerves on edge.

"Dad?"

No response. When she was only a few feet from the shed, the door flew open and slammed shut. There wasn't a hint of wind to account for the swinging door, only a dreadful stillness. Lyla bolted for the house.

She met her dad in the entryway, her face ashen, her eyes wide.

"What was all that racket?" he asked.

"The bird," she panted. "It was still alive!"

"What?"

"It was fluttering around inside the garbage can."

"I'm sure it was dead," he said. "Its neck was broken."

"Well, it wasn't," she replied drawing a deep breath. "I got homework to do."

She climbed the stairs to her room on shaky legs. Lyla tossed her book bag onto her bed. Her phone buzzed, signaling a text from Darcy – Hey wat up?

She responded – homework 😒

Darcy – wanna get sum noms?

Lyla – Dad's making din 😢

Darcy – talk later

New message – Hey

Lyla - Hey

Message – Nobody likes to be abandoned

Lyla - ?

Message – You left me

A bolt of terror ripped through Lyla when she read the text name: KEENAN

Message – You left me alone in the dark

She threw her phone on the bed and covered it with her pillow. Lyla slipped out into the hall on her way to the bathroom to shake it off and get a drink of water.

When she returned to her bedroom, she glanced at the pillow that covered her phone, then set to the task of homework. Drawn to the phone, it became nearly impossible for Lyla to focus on her Trig assignment.

Did that message actually say "Keenan?" Really?!

With a trembling hand, she drew the phone out from beneath her pillow and found no new messages. She felt momentary relief, then blocked the last contact, and went back to work.

No matter how many times she read and re-read the chapter on sines, cosines, and tangent ratios, the information refused to find a home in her brain. Her mind had exceeded its capacity. There was no room for homework, especially not math. She closed the book and curled up on her bed, desperate to rest her eyes for just a minute.

And then she fell. Deeply.

Lyla found herself on the soccer field at school. The murky, menacing sky threatened to explode. Someone followed her. She squinted over her shoulder against the stinging wind and saw a figure in a green jacket approaching. She strained to pick up the pace, but her feet failed to find traction.

Closer now, she could clearly identify her pursuer as Keenan. He tugged at the zipper on his jacket. Up and down, up and down. To anyone else, it would appear to be a simple habit but Lyla knew it was a threat.

She called for help, but her voice merely squeaked. The wind raged, debris pelting her face. A hard object struck her forehead.

"Ow!" She winced.

At her feet, she found Keenan's ring, a silver snake swallowing its tail, two fake red gems for eyes. With her chest heaving, Lyla looked over her shoulder as Keenan closed in, his angry eyes burning in his sockets. In desperation, she struggled to escape, but she couldn't run. Ankle-deep in piles of wet leaves, her feet slipped. She could hear him breathing deep labored breaths as he drew closer.

She turned, prepared to scream. But it wasn't Keenan's face she saw, it was Jack's. Exhausted, his brown eyes were clouded with fear.

"Come on," he urged. "Just a little further."

Lyla looked down to find that she held Keenan's corpse by the wrists. Jack gripped the cadaver's ankles. They had returned to that dark, wooded hillside, slippery with leaves, carrying Keenan's body to the edge of a cliff. Broken branches signaled something moving in the brush nearby. Suddenly, a shaft of bright light blinded her.

"There they are!" Detective Morales pointed a flashlight. Steiger followed as they rapidly descended the hill.

Lyla felt a sharp pain in her chest. Her throat closed, she couldn't inflate her lungs.

"Run!" Jack urged, his eyes wide. He dropped the corpse's ankles and bolted into the blackness of the hellish, suffocating forest.

Before she could react, Keenan seized her wrists. His thick fingers tattooed with SNAKE imprisoned her. He stared up at her, a sinister grin on his horrible face. A bright blue serpent slithered from his neck and coiled around her ankle.

A persistent BUZZING woke Lyla from the nightmare. Her phone BUZZED on the bed beside her.

In one quick motion, she sat up and snatched the phone from her bed. Her heart pounded when she read a new message.

Keenan – Your mine Kitten Always will be