Chapter I — 18:45 Hair Appointment
August 21, 2017
The bathroom light flickered—once, twice—before sputtering to life. Dust motes drifted in the stale air, caught in the weak beam like forgotten ghosts. One bulb was dead, its cracked glass smeared with grime, casting half the room in shadow. The silence was thick, heavy — the kind that presses on your chest until you can barely breathe.
Noah stood still, staring at the cracked mirror, he met his own hollow gaze — a ghost trapped behind cracked skin and tired eyes. The face was the same, but the soul felt empty, a cavern carved deep by Sarah’s absence. Fingers threading through hair long past his ears, he winced.
“She hated this length,” he murmured.
His clothes were a worn testament to neglect: a faded red Vans tee, bleached nearly pink by time and wear, and jeans torn and fraying — not by design, but by abandonment. Two months without Sarah had eroded more than just his spirit.
“Noah! You need to go to your hair appointment.”
His voice was sharp, urgent — but Noah’s heart beat numb beneath it all.
“C’mon, you know I’m not in the mood.”
“I know,” Dereck pressed, “but you have to clean up. For Sarah’s funeral. You know how much she cared about how we looked.”
“Yeah, I get it… but—”
“You’d be disrespecting her if you showed up looking like… this,” Dereck’s voice cracked with a brittle edge. “Sarah was my sister too. But I’m going to face the world with my best face on.”
A bitter laugh. “Fine. I’ll go. I just don’t understand how everything fell apart so fast.”
Dereck’s whisper was almost lost in the silence. “Neither do I.”
At the salon, Mrs. Sandra’s warm smile felt like a fragile lifeline.
“You’ve always had such beautiful blonde hair, Noah. So soft — just like your sister’s. How’s she doing? Still loving the new job?”
The words hit like a dagger. “Mrs. Sandra… Sarah was murdered just days ago.”
The scissors dropped with a clatter that echoed in the quiet room.
“Oh God. Noah, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“It feels… surreal.”
Sandra’s hand found his shoulder, steady and kind. “She was a beautiful soul. I’m grateful I knew her. A piece of her lives on in you. Hold onto that.”
“I will,” he whispered, voice cracking.
After the haircut, Noah moved through the city like a ghost, searching for funeral clothes but feeling numb to everything around him. The chatter of busy streets and closing shops felt distant, muffled beneath the weight pressing on his chest.
His phone buzzed — Dereck’s name flashing. He answered, voice rough. Dereck needed a ride from the hotel where he was staying.
By the time Noah pulled up, it was already past 6:30 PM. The sky bled bruised purples and deepening shadows. Stores were shuttering, and the world seemed to be holding its breath with them. They agreed to wait until morning to finish shopping.
The car rolled onto winding roads lined with thick greenery, the late sun casting golden fingers through the leaves. Trees leaned in like old friends whispering secrets. Wild grasses swayed gently, untouched by their silent turmoil.
“Dammit, Noah, that was our turn! Where are you going?”
“Relax. I’m taking the scenic route.”
“I’ll relax when you pay the scenic gas tax.”
“Guess you’re out of luck then.”
“You’ll get a good ass whooping if nothing else.”
“Violence isn’t always the answer.”
“It is when I get to beat up my little brother.”
Noah laughed — a brittle sound that shattered the fragile calm between them.
But the laughter died in their throats.
Ahead, the road shimmered unnaturally, heat rising like a living thing. Then came smoke — thick, black, curling like a serpent ready to strike. A car lay mangled across both lanes, flames devouring it from within, licking the charred frame with hellish hunger. The roof was gone — torn back or blown clean off — leaving a grotesque shell like a burnt-out coffin. Noah slammed on the brakes, tires screaming against the asphalt as he swerved onto the grass. The stench hit him like a punch: gasoline, burning rubber, melting plastic — and beneath it all, something raw and sickening. Dereck jumped out behind him, but then—a sudden POP, sharp and explosive—shattered the air. Glass and metal sprayed like shrapnel.
Dereck staggered, blood streaming down his cheek.
Noah’s ears rang violently. His breath hitched, shallow and desperate.
His knees buckled under a crushing weight.
Blood pooled beneath him — dark and thick — spreading like ink spilled on cracked porcelain.
His limbs felt leaden, dragged down by invisible chains. His body betrayed him, refusing to obey even the faintest command.
He looked back at the inferno, heat blurring the edges of the wreckage. No witnesses to the grotesque corpse trying to flee its own death.
Dereck, sweat and blood mixing on his face, fumbled for a burner phone, fingers trembling but driven by urgent instinct as he dials.
Noah’s vision narrowed, tunneled.
Then—
Darkness swallowed him whole..