CHAPTER 18: Blood On His Shirt

Morning light spilled through the curtains, painting golden streaks across Alicia’s face. She stirred, a small line of drool glistening at the corner of her mouth. The literature text she’d been reading last night had slipped from her grasp and lay face-down beside the bed.

She blinked blearily, rubbing her eyes.

“Ugh… what time is it?” she muttered, reaching for her phone.

The screen glowed. 9:04 a.m.

Her eyes widened. “Crap, I’m late…” she started, then paused mid-jolt.

“Oh… right. Weekend,” she exhaled, collapsing back onto the bed with a soft groan.

The room was quiet, eerily quiet. Raymond’s side of the room was empty, his bed untouched, his presence missing.

Dragging her sleepy body from the mattress, Alicia shuffled toward the closet, yawning. She tugged open the wooden door, scanning for something comfortable, maybe a soft tee and her favorite shorts.

But then… something caught her eye.

A dark piece of fabric, half-hidden by her suitcase in the corner. She frowned, crouching down. “What’s this?”

She reached out and picked it up. It was a black shirt,Raymond’s, unmistakably. But the sight that met her made her stomach lurch.

Specks of dried crimson clung to the fabric. The smell,sharp, metallic, stale, hit her nose before she could think twice.

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Is this… blood?”

She dropped it instantly, the shirt landing with a dull thud near Raymond’s side of the closet. Her heart raced, pounding so loud she could hear it in her ears.

For a moment, she just stood there, staring at it as if it would explain itself.

“What the hell…” she whispered.

A dozen thoughts tangled in her head. Was he hurt? Did he hurt someone?

She shook her head quickly, trying to reason. “No. No, that can’t be.”

But the smell, she couldn’t deny it. The shirt reeked of old blood.

She backed away slowly, frowning, clutching her arms. “You’re losing it, Alicia. It’s probably paint or something,” she told herself. But even as she said it, her voice wavered.

She sighed and turned toward the bathroom. “Forget it. Shower first.”

Inside, she caught sight of her reflection. Her hair was a wild, tangled mess, sticking up in every possible direction. She made a face.

“Perfect,” she mumbled sarcastically.

Grabbing her toothbrush, she began brushing while staring blankly at the mirror, her mind not on her teeth but on the bloodied shirt outside.

When the water started running, the sound filled the silence, but it didn’t wash away the unease sitting heavy in her chest. She stepped under the spray, humming faintly to distract herself, the tune of the song playing on her phone echoing off the tiled walls.

Steam swirled around her, but the thought wouldn’t leave.

Raymond… what did you get yourself into?

When she stepped out, wrapped in a towel, the air felt colder. She dressed quickly, a loose white top, pale blue shorts, simple and cozy. She sat by her desk, scrolling her phone aimlessly, but the glow of the screen barely registered. Her mind kept circling back to that shirt.

After a few minutes, she dropped her phone on the table and picked up her body gel, rubbing it on distractedly. The scent of vanilla filled the air, masking the faint metallic trace she swore she could still smell.

She glanced at the clock. 9:47 a.m. Still no sign of him.

Her thoughts began to spiral.

“Where the hell did he go? It’s the weekend… he didn’t even come back last night,” she muttered.

Her voice grew quieter. “Did something happen?”

She tried lying down, pressing her face into the pillow, hoping to stop the thoughts from spiraling. But silence had a way of making questions louder.

Finally, she groaned and sat up.

“Fine. If he won’t tell me, I’ll find someone who will.”

Kevin. He had answers. He always did.

She grabbed her phone, ready to storm out, when a sharp thud made her freeze.

It came from the window.

Her head snapped toward it, heart hammering in her chest. The curtains fluttered slightly, and before she could fully process it, a dark figure swung in smoothly.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Raymond.

He landed like a cat, soundless, effortless, his dark hair ruffled by the morning breeze. His chest rose and fell as if he’d been running for hours.

Alicia blinked rapidly. “There’s… there’s a door, you know!” she blurted. “Normal people use it instead of climbing through third-floor windows!”

Her voice came out sharper than she meant. But the sight of him, disheveled, pale, a dangerous calm etched into his face made her heart twist in unease.

Raymond didn’t answer. He walked straight to his reading table, yanked open a drawer, and retrieved a small white container. Without a word, he popped a pill into his mouth, his throat flexing as he swallowed.

Alicia frowned, eyes narrowing. His movements were slow. His skin looked even paler than usual, and when his gaze flickered briefly toward her, she caught it, a flash of red in his irises.

Her breath hitched.

“R-Raymond…” she stammered, stepping closer before she could stop herself. “Are you… are you okay?”

He didn’t answer. He only pressed a palm against his temple, jaw tightening. His eyes burned an unnatural shade, crimson flickering beneath the blue.

She froze where she stood. Her instincts screamed danger, yet curiosity held her in place.

“Where… where are you coming from?” she asked quietly.

The question seemed to snap something in him. His head whipped toward her, sharp and sudden.

Alicia’s breath caught. The air in the room shifted, thick, tense, charged.

He began walking toward her. Slow. Deliberate. Each step a silent challenge.

She swallowed hard and instinctively stepped back. Her back brushed the door.

“Raymond…”

He didn’t speak. The red in his eyes gleamed faintly under the morning light. His expression unreadable, distant, like he wasn’t fully there.

Her hand fumbled behind her for the doorknob.

“Don’t come any closer,” she warned, voice trembling despite herself.

But instead of answering, Raymond turned suddenly, not toward her, but toward the bathroom. He opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it firmly behind him.

Alicia stood frozen, her heart pounding in her ears. The silence that followed felt suffocating.

Only then did she realize she’d been holding her breath. She exhaled shakily, pressing a hand against her chest.

“What the hell was that…” she whispered.

She stared at the closed bathroom door, confusion swirling in her chest. Fear… but also something else. Something she couldn’t name.

She rubbed her arms, trying to shake the feeling off, but it clung to her like humidity. Raymond had always been secretive, but this… this was different. He’d looked dangerous. Unstable. And those eyes…

No. She needed answers.

Her gaze drifted to the shirt again, still on the floor. The faint stains seemed darker now under the daylight.

“Kevin,” she muttered under her breath. “You better have the answers I’m looking for.”

Her decision was instant. She grabbed her phone, shoved it into her pocket, and headed for the door.

Before stepping out, she glanced one last time at the bathroom door. A faint splash of running water echoed from inside. He was still there.

“Whatever this is, Raymond…” she whispered, “I’ll find out.”

She opened the door and walked out, determination flashing in her eyes.