Creepy Stranger

Veylor Caith is a creepy stranger who got into Ashwood about a month ago.

Our town is such a forgotten place that seeing a new face is almost the same as seeing a ghost. We know everyone here, from their names to their family stories, so waking up one morning and finding a stranger walking around like he owned the ground was enough to get the whole town buzzing.

He always carried a camera. Always.

He moved slowly through the narrow paths, tilting his head like he was studying things we had long stopped noticing. Then he would lift the camera, take pictures, and smile to himself. Not at anyone else. Just himself. It made him even stranger.

Nobody knew where he came from, whether he had family here, or if he even had a reason to be in a place like Ashwood. Months can pass here without anything new happening, so the moment Veylor arrived, the rumours started.

Some people said he was sent by the government to check if Ashwood could still be useful. Others said he was a billionaire, judging from how he looked. And honestly, they weren’t reaching.

Veylor dressed like someone who never had to worry about the price of anything. He wore clean dark coats that fit him perfectly and long boots that looked expensive. His hair was black and smooth, falling around his face like he took time to style it. His skin was clear, his jaw sharp, and his eyes had this quiet focus that felt too observant. Even the way he walked looked intentional, like every step had meaning.

He didn’t talk much. He wasn’t loud or interested in conversations, but he carried himself with a confidence that didn’t match our small, tired town. People watched him with curiosity, trying to figure out what he was doing here, but Veylor never gave anyone a clue.

Still, none of that mattered to me.

To me, Veylor Caith was just creepy.

He smiled at everything, even at things that weren’t funny. And whenever he smiled, those dimples of his would appear—deep, unfairly distracting dimples. They made him look almost sweet, but the problem was that he smiled too often. Too easily. At moments when no normal person should be smiling.

Maybe the others saw charm.

Or saw mystery.

But me?

I just saw trouble with dimples.

I stared at Veylor's hand still hanging in the air, and the irritation inside me doubled. Instead of taking it, I pushed it aside and got up by myself.

Words slipped out as I brushed dust off my skirt.

“Of all the people to bump into… why you?”

Veylor lowered his hand and stepped closer, like he was trying to catch the words from my mouth. His brows pulled together, studying my lips.

“What did you say?” he asked.

That was the last of my patience.

I stepped closer, letting my frustration rise with every word.

“Of all the people in Ashwood… it had to be you! I’ve warned you countless times—stop talking to me. We have nothing in common. We can never be friends. Never!”

He didn’t step back. He came even closer, leaving almost no space between us.

“Why not, Kaelith?” he asked quietly. “I like you. I really do.”

His voice was soft, but the closeness made everything feel heavier. I could feel his warmth—too close, too real.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said. “I don’t even know why. I’m not here to hurt you. I don’t bite.”

He lifted his hand slowly and brushed a strand of my white hair away from my face. His fingers were warm and gentle. Then he smiled—slow and easy—and those dimples appeared again.

Something inside me paused. I didn’t even notice when my eyes closed.

Then I felt it—his lips on mine, warm and soft, like he was testing the moment before deepening it. It wasn’t rushed or forced. It felt like he wanted me to decide if I wanted the kiss too.

Against all sense, I kissed him back. Soft at first, then deeper when the moment settled between us. It felt quiet, steady, like the world had faded for a heartbeat.

But reality snapped back. We were standing in the middle of the main road, with people walking by and stalls opening. I pulled away fast and wiped my lips.

“This will never happen again,” I said, my voice unsteady. “Stay away from me.”

He took a step forward, confused.

“Kaelith, why are you—”

I backed away too quickly.

“Because I don’t like you.”

Before he could speak, a voice cut through the moment.

“Kaelith!!!”

I spun around and saw Kayla running toward me. She was panting hard, her face pale, like she had seen something no one else could.

“Kaelith!!!” she screamed again.

Her voice pierced the air so sharply that I froze. I didn’t know whether to run to meet her or just wait for her to reach me. My heart thumped in my chest, and for a split second, I couldn’t move.

Then she arrived, crashing into my arms and gasping for breath. I held her tightly, desperate to hear what she was trying to say. Her chest heaved, words failing her, and I felt panic coil in my stomach.

“Talk to me, for goodness’ sake!” I shouted.

She finally managed to get a few words out, trembling. “It’s… your papa.”

Panic exploded inside me. “Wha—what happened to Papa? Is he okay? Where is he?” My voice rose, jagged with terror.

Kayla swallowed hard, her breath still uneven. “Papa… collapsed in the sea while fishing today. The other fishermen had to dive in quickly to rescue him… or he could have been lost.”

Her words hit me like a stone. My grip on her loosened, and she stumbled slightly.

“No… not again… no, not my papa… not again! No!” I screamed, spinning on my heels, running a few steps, then turning back again. “Where is he? Where did they take him?”

Kayla took another shaky breath. “He’s been taken home. I saw him being carried by the neighbors… I thought to come get you after calling, but you didn’t answer your phone.”

It clicked. I had left my phone with Corven.

I didn’t wait for another word. Only one thought filled my mind: get home. Get to Papa.

I ran, brushing past Veylor without even thinking. He shouted something behind me, but I didn’t care.

“Wait for me!” Kayla screamed, struggling to catch up.

Veylor shouted too. “Kaelith, can I come too?”

I didn’t look back. “No!” I yelled.

“I could be of help,” he called after me.

Nothing else mattered. Not the stranger, not Kayla, not anything except reaching Papa.