LOGINIt started as a story. Just words. A fantasy, Elara wrote at night. A man she designed to be everything she craved for but never had. Marek! Obsessive. Possessive. Deadly loyal. Unapologetically hers. She never expected the knocks on her door when no one was there. The whisper of her name in an empty room. Or the scent of him. The one she only ever described in ink, lingering in her pillow. She thought she was losing her mind. Until the bruises appeared. Until her friends started disappearing. Until Marek stepped out of her pages… And smiled. Now Elara has to ask herself the one question that could shatter everything: Did she write him into existence…..or did he lure her into his?
View More“Ah! Di situ, Mas … enak.”
“Enak?” Pram sedikit mengernyitkan dahinya, lalu melirik wanita yang ada di bawahnya dengan dahi penuh keringat. “Ini ya, Bu?” “Shh … iyaa itu, Mas!” Pram kembali fokus pada kegiatannya. Tangannya bergerak cepat menjamah bagian-bagian yang terasa kurang pas. Namun, pikirannya terasa mulai hilang arah. Sejak tadi, Pram bertanya soal posisi plafon yang tepat pada Sisil, tetangganya, karena wanita itu meminta bantuan untuk memperbaiki plafon kamarnya yang bocor. Namun, setiap kali Pram bertanya, wanita itu menjawab dengan suara yang terdengar seperti desahan. Entah itu sugesti pikiran Pram saja karena hampir 15 menit melihat Sisil yang hanya mengenakan gaun tidur satin yang nyaris transparan. Bahkan, dari atas tangga besi itu, ia juga bisa melihat jelas onggokan buah kenyal nan bulat yang tidak diberi penyangga. Atau wanita itu memang sengaja bersuara demikian. Pram tidak tahu! Yang jelas, Pram ingin segera menyelesaikan urusannya di sini. Bahaya kalau sampai pikirannya semakin liar pada Sisil, sebab wanita itu sudah bersuami! “S–sudah, Bu, yang ini,” kata Pram setelah selesai memasang plafon itu dalam posisi yang sesuai. “Oke, turunnya pelan-pelan ya, Mas. Aku pegang tangganya biar gak geser,” kata Sisil, lalu sedikit mencondongkan tubuhnya untuk memegang dua sisi tangga besi itu. Ketika Pram kembali menatap ke bawah saat akan turun dari tangga besi itu, ia kembali melihat bongkahan kenyal Sisil. ‘Gila! Gila! Gila!’ batin Pram berteriak. Ia pria normal, sejak tadi diberi pemandangan seperti itu jelas membuat tubuhnya panas dingin. Setahu Pram, Sisil ini berusia sekitar 35 tahunan. Tapi, bentuk tubuhnya benar-benar masih terawat, seperti remaja usia 20an. Dari luar, kulitnya putih bersih, terlihat lembut, dan kencang. Dan sekarang, Pram juga baru tahu kalau ternyata bagian dalamnya juga terlihat lebih wah, padat dan kenyal. “Kenapa, Mas? Kok bengong?” tanya Sisil penasaran, senyum di wajahnya tidak pernah pudar. Pram menggelengkan kepalanya. “Nggak, Bu.” Sisil tersenyum, lalu mundur selangkah ketika melihat Pram sudah menuruni tangga. “Makasih ya, Mas Pram. Plafon kamar aku jadi gak bocor lagi,” kata Sisil lembut. “Iya, Bu, senang kalau saya bisa membantu,” jawab Pram sopan. “Kalau gitu saya pamit–” “Eh, tunggu!” potong Sisil. “Sebentar, Mas, aku udah siapin minuman di kulkas. Aku ambilin, ya!” Belum sempat Pram menjawab, Sisil sudah lebih dahulu pergi ke dapur. Tanpa Pram sadari, matanya langsung tertuju kepada lekuk tubuh Sisil dari belakang. Pram menelan ludahnya, tenggorokannya terasa kering. Pram buru-buru menggeleng, menghilangkan pemikirannya tentang Sisil. Tak lama, Sisil kembali dengan segelas minuman dingin yang tampak begitu segar. Ia menyuguhkannya sambil duduk di atas sofa. “Minum, Mas. Ini jus buah naga!” Pram mengikuti Sisil duduk di atas sofa lalu segera mengambil gelas dan menyesap manisnya jus buah naga yang sudah disiapkan Sisil. “Terima kasih, Bu. Ini enak.” “Ahh.. Enak, ya, Mas?” tanya Sisil dengan senyum yang mengulas di atas wajah. Pram terperanjat dengan pertanyaan itu. Entah perasaannya saja atau bagaimana, tetapi Sisil kembali mengeluarkan suara seperti desahan. Meski baru saja disuguhi minum, tenggorokan Pram terasa kering lagi. Pram hanya mampu mengangguk salah tingkah. “I-iya, Bu.” “Oh, iya, Mas Pram,” Sisil memajukan tubuhnya, membuat Pram terbelalak. Pasalnya, belahan dada Sisil semakin terlihat dari sini. “Kamu betulan nggak mau jual rumahmu? ‘Kan lumayan kalau Mas Pram masih kerja serabutan.” Rumah milik Pram memang sudah lama ingin dibeli keluarga Sisil untuk memperluas lahan. Sebetulnya itu penawaran menarik karena Pram belum memiliki pekerjaan tetap. Uang hasil menjualnya pasti bisa Pram gunakan untuk kebutuhan sehari-hari selama beberapa waktu. Namun, Pram enggan menjualnya. Ia ingin mempertahankan satu-satunya harta yang dimiliki. “Nggak, Bu,” kata Pram tegas sambil terdengar sopan. Sisil tersenyum dan mengangguk, mencoba menghormati keputusan Pram. “Kalau gitu, Mas Pram mau nggak kerja sama saya?” Pram terkejut. “Kerja sama Bu Sisil?” “Iya!” seru Sisil. “Kerja kayak tadi, Mas Pram. Bantu aku membetulkan plafon atau pipa bocor, oh, Mas Pram juga bisa nyetir ‘kan?” “Bisa, sih, Bu…,” Pram mengerutkan dahinya, terlihat sedikit bingung dengan tawaran Sisil. “Tapi, maaf, Bu. Memangnya suami Bu Sisil nggak bisa membantu buat hal-hal itu?” Alih-alih tersinggung, Sisil justru tertawa mendengar pertanyaan itu. “Ah, kamu kayak nggak tahu aja, Mas Pram! Suamiku ‘kan jarang ada di rumah!” Pram mengingat-ingat. Memang suami Sisil jarang terlihat di rumah. Pram pikir karena suaminya sering bekerja lembur. “Lagipula, Mas Pram,” Sisil melanjutkan. Ia mencondongkan tubuhnya lebih dekat lagi. Napas Pram tercekat. Wangi tubuh Sisil semakin tercium. “Suamiku itu pemalas. Nggak kayak, Mas Pram yang rajin!” Pujian itu tidak membuat Pram tergerak sebab inderanya terlanjur dimanja oleh wangi dan tubuh Sisil yang menggoda. Pram menelan ludahnya lagi. Ia merasa sebentar lagi dirinya akan menjadi gila. Lalu, pikirannya kembali mengarah kepada penawaran Sisil. Jika ia menerima tawaran pekerjaan itu, apakah Sisil akan terus berpakaian dan berlagak seperti … ini? ‘Ah, tapi kayaknya nggak mungkin. Paling kebetulan!’ batin Pram meyakinkan dirinya. Lagipula, Pram membutuhkan uang untuk hidup sehari-hari. Di hadapannya, Sisil dengan kulit seputih susu dan wajah cantiknya masih menatap Pram, menunggu jawabannya. “Gimana, Mas Pram? Aku bayar dengan layak kok!” Tidak ingin membuat wanita itu menunggu padahal sudah baik untuk menawarkan, Pram akhirnya membuat keputusan. “Saya mau, Bu Sisil,” ujar Pram. Wajah Sisil langsung berbinar mendengarnya. “Syukurlah!” Pram mengangguk sopan. “Kalau begitu, saya pamit pulang dulu, Bu.” Pram dan Sisil berdiri dari duduknya di sofa. Namun, ketika ingin berjalan ke pintu depan, Sisil tiba-tiba kehilangan keseimbangannya dan… “Aduh!” Sebelum Sisil jatuh, Pram dengan sigap menangkapnya dari belakang. Punggung Sisil berada di atas dada Pram, sementara tangan kanan Pram jatuh di atas dada Sisil yang dibalut pakaian tipis.“I know.”The words didn’t land loudly, but they stayed.Victor’s hand was still wrapped around Elara’s.Not tight. Not forceful. Just… there.Elara blinked once, then gave a small, polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okayyyyyyyy…” Her fingers shifted slightly in his grip, a subtle pull.Victor didn’t react immediately.For a heartbeat too long, nothing moved.Then Elara gently slipped her hand free.No tension. No curiosity.Just a quiet release.Fallon leaned closer, voice low. “Okay… that was a bit weird.”Elara shrugged faintly, already reaching for her glass again. “He probably just knows me from school.” Her tone was light. Dismissive.Like it didn’t matter.Clara cleared her throat softly, stepping in before the silence stretched. “So… drinks?” she said, lifting her glass slightly with a smile.Fallon nodded immediately. “Yes, please. I need something sweet before this music gives me a headache.”Elara gave a small hum of agreement.Victor said nothing.But his eye
The music pulsed through the ballroom in slow waves, deep enough that the bass could be felt underfoot.Crystal chandeliers spilled warm light over the polished marble floor, turning the moving crowd into shifting flashes of satin, glass, and gold. Laughter rose and fell with the rhythm of the music. Somewhere near the bar, someone cheered as the DJ switched tracks.Clara barely noticed any of it.She had been watching him for almost a minute now.Victor stood near the far side of the hall, not quite part of the crowd, not quite separate either. His posture was relaxed, one hand resting in the pocket of his dark trousers, the other loosely holding a glass.He wasn’t drinking.He was watching.Clara inhaled slowly, smoothing the side of her dress before she could overthink it.Then she walked toward him.Each step felt louder than it should have.By the time she stopped in front of him, Victor had already noticed her.His gaze settled on her calmly, quietly observant.Clara offered
The card sat between them like an accusation. The card shouldn’t have been there. Elara stood in the middle of her room, the invitation balanced between her fingers like it might bite. Thick, expensive cardstock. Matte black. Gold embossing that caught the light when she tilted it. She had checked her bag three times already. “I didn’t put this there,” she said quietly. Fallon crossed her arms. “Me neither.” They stared at it together. No envelope. No explanation. No handwriting they recognized on the front. Just the phrase. Perfectly centered. Elara flipped it over again. 'Attendance is mandatory.' Her throat tightened. “That’s not normal,” Fallon muttered. “That’s not even rich-people dramatic. That’s… weird.” Elara swallowed. “Clara said she wasn’t doing cards.” “Exactly.” Fallon pushed off the doorframe. “So unless the air is handing out invitations now…..” “….someone put it there,” Elara finished. Silence followed. The kind that sat heavy instead of empty. Elara
It's been two days already since Elara and Fallon had gotten back from the police station.Fallon, as always, was restless. Her eyes kept darting to the corners, to the reflections on windows, the shadows that seemed out of place. Two days ago, she had handled a polaroid, a file, that vanished mysteriously, only for her to hear a voice asking where she found it. Nobody had been there.The late afternoon sun draped over the city, painting the streets in a golden glow. Elara and Fallon walked side by side into the school gate, heads low, silent except for the soft crunch of their shoes on the pavement. The recent chaos of Sylvia’s death, Marek’s absence, the constant tension still lingered in their bones, a heavy, unshakable weight.But at the end of the day, they had to be in school even though the thoughts of some things kept weighing on them.And Fallon as agile as she could be, she wouldn't want anyone to see her at her lowest in school, so she had to switch up.Clara Veyne had
Sylvia's hand clamped around Fallon's wrist so tightly that Fallon winced."Fallon, what was that?" Sylvia demanded, her voice low, sharp. "Who were you talking to? Because it definitely wasn't a person."Fallon shuddered. "I…… I wasn't talking to myself, Sylvia. I swear I saw someone. A man. He wa
"I'm not. He came last night. Said I called him. He didn't even deny it. He said Damien touched me and he doesn't let things like that live. So he had to erase him…….Oh Fal!" Elara said.Fallon slowly sipped her coffee and replied sarcastically, because it looked like Elara was obsessed with her bo
Marek watched through the mirror. Elara's body tossed gently on the bed, her fingers clutching the blanket. Her brows furrowed as her lips whispered incoherent questions to the air around her. "Who's there? Who are you?" She murmured, twisting slowly to her side, her breath shallow, strained.
"He's staring again," I whispered, without looking up from the page. The words slipped from my lips like a secret I wasn't supposed to know, low enough that only Fallon, my best friend and certified trouble magnet could hear. She didn't disappoint. "Who?" She leaned in, eyes already glitterin






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