Death Day

"I'll find you, even in an ant hole, Ericka. Just watch! You won't be able to escape me forever. I'll make you pay for this!"

The voice echoed, hoarse, and full of hatred. As if coming from every direction at once.

Ericka ran with all her might, her breath ragged and her chest felt like it was about to explode.

Her steps slipped on the slippery ground, while behind her, Daniel's footsteps grew closer. When she glanced back, her heart skipped a beat.

That hand.

It wasn't a human hand.

Its fingers were unnaturally long, ending in sharp claws that glinted coldly like blades, ready to tear through anything they touched.

Every swing of Daniel's hand sliced   through the air, leaving a chill that prickled Ericka's skin even before it touched.

Daniel's words kept repeating in Ericka's mind, and when the path ahead turned out to be a dead end, limited by a very high wall, Ericka was cornered.

She was screamed at the top of her lungs as the terrifying hand touched her skin.

"Oh God!"

Ericka woke with a sharp jolt, sitting up in bed, her body wet and sticky with cold sweat. The sheets beneath her body were crumpled and messy.

She felt short of breath, her chest constricted. Panicked, Ericka reached for the paper bag that was always on the nightstand beside her bed and blew into it several times, until the tightness subsided.

The nightmare continued to recur, and for the past week, even during her naps, Ericka still dreamed about it.

Lately, the nights have been getting longer, sleepiness has become a threat, because Ericka is too afraid to sleep.

Ericka looked at the clock. It was almost morning.  She wearily threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, limping from a restless sleep and doing her usual bathroom routine.

The sky outside was still dark, though hints of red and orange were beginning to appear gradually, as Ericka peeked out the living room window after her shower.

She went to the kitchen and made coffee. It was still too early for a heavy meal, but she felt a little groggy, and coffee was always the best medicine.

Ericka grabbed her laptop from the study table in the corner of the living room and took it to the sofa, along with a cup of fragrant, unsweetened black coffee.

She opened her email and saw a new one from Murphy Jiang, her employer. A document she had sent the night before had been sent back to her, complete with detailed notes on what to do with it.

Ericka opened the document and studied it briefly, then replied to Murphy's email, thanked him and promised to make improvements immediately.

Murphy, his warm email, writing, revising, and deadlines were like a soothing routine for Ericka. They made her life feel normal after all the chaos that had preceded her.

Three hours later, after the revision was done, Ericka closed her laptop and stretched, shaking off the aches and pains. She reached for the cup on the table, which had long since been emptied.

"Gosh, I didn't even realize the time passes by," Ericka muttered, looking at the streaks of light on the floor through the gaps in the curtains that hadn't been opened since she woke up that early morning.

Ericka's stomach growled. She patted it gently and got up from the sofa, opening the curtains to let in some light, and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich.

There was still bread, some eggs, cheese, and lettuce in the nearly empty refrigerator. She needed to shop today so she wouldn't have to go out again for the next few days.

While eating, her phone on the dining table vibrated. Ericka swallowed the rest of her sandwich in one go and chewed quickly before reaching for it.

"Ms. Virelli, all the paperwork is complete. You can come to the office today to sign some final documents and pick up the check."

Ericka sighed deeply after reading the message from Altman Sander, the real estate agent who was helping her with the sale of the house.

After six months of advertising, two weeks ago, a couple fell in love with the house and, without even bidding much, immediately requested that all the paperwork be completed so they could move in before their pregnant wife gave birth.

Erica felt like crying as she stared at the check in her hand. She looked up and saw Altman. "I need  two days to move out. Is that okay?"

"Oh, of course, Ms. Virelli,"  Altman replied. "Mr. and Mrs. Davon is still unpacking their old apartment, and they told you not to rush. They've given you a week."

Ericka smiled. "I won't be taking anything from the house, as agreed. I just need to pack up my personal belongings, and it'll be quick. I'll send you the keys when I'm done."

Ericka's steps felt light as she walked out of Altman's office. A check in her wallet would soon put things in order in her life.

Ericka hailed a taxi and went to the bank. She cashed the check from the house sale, opened a new account to deposit some of the money, and set up the rest in her usual account.

Ericka went to a rather fancy Italian restaurant after she left the bank. It had been a long time since she left the house, let alone ate at a restaurant. It wouldn't hurt to treat herself this time.

A man sitting at the table across from Ericka, looked at her and smiled kindly.  He called a waiter and ordered something, pointing to Ericka.

A moment later, the waiter approached Ericka's table and placed a beautifully decorated caramel pudding dish on it.

"Miss, Mr. Freddy at that table has brought this pudding for you," the waiter said politely. "Please enjoy."

Goosebumps rose across Ericka's neck, and she felt a chill creep from her toes and up her body.

Mr. Freddy, at the opposite table, smiled and stood up, intending to approach Ericka's table, but Ericka was faster, grabbing her bag and running to the restaurant door, bursting out while shouting to hail a passing taxi.

"Miss, are you okay?" asked the taxi driver, a middle-aged man, looking at Ericka through the rearview mirror. "Do you need to go to the hospital? Your face is very pale."

"N-no," Ericka said. "I'm fine. F. Kennedy Street, please."

Ericka flopped onto the sofa after arriving home. Cold sweat still dampened her back, and her knees felt as weak as jelly.

I was so stupid. That man must have been shocked and confused by my reaction, even though he probably just wanted to say hello, said Erica almost sobbed, cursing herself.

After a while, she took several deep breaths, calming herself and instilling confidence in her mind that everything would be fine.

She turned on the television, selected a documentary about dinosaurs from a channel, and took her phone from her bag.

An incoming message, from twenty minutes earlier, made Ericka's eyes widen.

"Respectfully, Ms. Ericka Virelli. You are the contact registered by the person in question with the New Hope Correctional Facility administration division. This is the release notice for Mr. Daniel Albert, on Tuesday, August 6, 2025, at 4:30 a.m. Thank you."

Erika's phone fell to the sofa, her hands trembling so much. She wanted to faint, but another fear forced her to stay conscious.

August 6th.

Four days away.

That would be the day of her death.