Chapter 3

My tolerance for alcohol had always been terrible, but I somehow felt like I could drink anyone under the table that night. The meal didn't end until Mr. Zeller finally keeled over at the dining table.

Later that night, half-asleep, I saw a man pacing anxiously in the room. I asked hoarsely, "Who are you?"

He seemed to drift right up to me. "I'm Evanna's ex. Her family has this soul-locking array. My soul's been trapped in a doll in a hidden room under the bed, and I can't reincarnate. You have to help me, or you'll be next!"

The moment I heard that, I instinctively thought I was having sleep paralysis. I could hear him talking and see the blurry outline of his figure, but my body refused to move.

Terrified and panicking, I used every ounce of strength I could muster to try to break free. I was drenched in sweat when I jolted awake.

I reached out beside me, but no one was there. Only then did I remember a local custom—unmarried couples weren't allowed to share a bed.

There was no way I was falling back asleep after that sleep-paralysis episode, though.

I grabbed my phone to check the time. It was 5:00 am, and there wasn't a single bar of signal. The room was pitch black; a wave of inexplicable dread washed over me, and I fumbled around until I found the pull cord for the light.

I yanked the thin cord, and the bare bulb on the ceiling flickered to life, casting a dim, sickly yellow glow over the room. I sat on the bed for a while, then started debating whether I should actually crawl under it to look for that hidden room.

The second I got down on my stomach, I scoffed at myself for being ridiculous. How could I take something from a dream so seriously?

And yet, my hand still moved on its own, groping its way under the bed. Suddenly, an icy-cold hand clamped tight around my wrist. I screamed and yanked back with all my strength. As abruptly as it had appeared, the grip vanished. I lost my balance and fell onto my back.

The noise must've woken the whole house, because Evanna and her parents rushed into my room. Their doors had no locks or latches, so when the three of them burst in, they were greeted by the sight of me sprawled on the floor, my limbs flailing.

The moment I saw them, I jabbed a finger at the bed and yelled, "There's someone under the bed! I swear there is!"

Or maybe it wasn't a "someone". I was certain the hand that had grabbed me had impossibly long fingernails, like those zombies in movies.

Evanna hurried over and helped me up. Meanwhile, Mr. Zeller grabbed a flashlight, dropped to his stomach, and shone the light under the bed. After a while, he got back up and dusted himself off.

He said, "Damian, there's nothing under there. You're just spooking yourself. Are you scared to sleep alone? If it's that bad, Evanna can stay in there with you."

The second he said that, I felt completely looked down on. "No, no. I'm fine. I just—"

"Damian, I'll stay with you," Evanna said, cutting me off.

Since she was being so considerate, I couldn't bring myself to refuse. I nodded in agreement.

We were snuggled together in bed by the time the rooster crowed at dawn. Aside from that and the occasional dog barking somewhere in the distance, there was total silence.

"Damian, I didn't expect you to be such a scaredy-cat," she said. She paused for a beat, then added, "How are you gonna survive like this in the future?"

Her words left me baffled. I said, "There really was something under the bed that grabbed my hand just now. Besides, we're definitely gonna be living in the city in the future. Once we have our wedding, we'll bring your parents over to stay with us."

"That reminds me—what made you stick your hand under the bed in the first place?" she asked.

I had to think hard about how to answer so she wouldn't think I was some lunatic who couldn't tell a dream from reality.