Blood pumped through your veins at high speed. Your heart was up almost to the point jumping out of your chest. The muscles in your legs screamed out for rest, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You had to keep going. Fear of not making it echoed in your head. You tried to block out the consequences that awaited you if you failed.

Sweat dripped down your forehead, little droplets getting into your eyes that you quickly wiped away before you could lose your footing from being unable to see. The last thing you needed right now was to trip and fall down onto the sidewalk. If you did, it would be game over. Except, to you, this was definitely not a game.  

Almost there. Almost there.

Just a little longer. Just a little closer. Then you’d be free. But you wanted to give in so badly. Your energy was on almost empty. But you had to make it. You couldn’t risk stopping.

All other sounds were blocked out of your head except for the clapping of your shoes against the concrete. Then your goal was within sight. You nearly let out a cry of relief. Freedom was within reach. You pushed your muscles almost to their breaking point to add speed to your wind. They cried out for mercy, but you wouldn’t get any yourself if you did.

“Bravo, (y/n)!” your coworker clapped as you finally made it to the meeting point. Naturally, he’d beaten you to the unofficial finish line in the middle of the park by a long shot.

You shot Jae a tired glare. Although, you couldn’t really blame him. You were the one who wanted to get in better shape. And, as a marathon runner, Jae was the best person to motivate you and help you get started on a running plan. You had your first five-k coming up and you were pretty well prepared for it. As long as you kept this up, that is. But right now you just wanted to lie down and take a very long nap.

“Come on,” Jae clapped you on the back. “Let’s walk it off.”

You whimpered. “Can’t I just sleep it off instead?”

Jae laughed. “You ask that every time and every time it’s still no. Besides, we both have a shift at the hospital coming up.”

Ugh. He was right. Checking your smart watch, you calculated that you had enough time to take a short walk, shower, eat a quick meal before you needed to be at the hospital.

Jae stayed by your side, matching your crawl of a stride. Both of you were quiet, just taking in the morning sun that was just getting high in the sky. As it was a Tuesday, there weren’t too many people milling about the green park. Mostly nannies making sure the kids got their few hours outside in, other runners taking advantage of the empty pathways, and the occasional teenager skipping class. As you glanced over your shoulder randomly, you felt skin brush up against your knuckles. Thinking it was just an accident since Jae was walking nearly shoulder to shoulder with you, you ignored the contact. Then it happened again. So you put a couple more inches in between you two, but the message apparently was not received. Feeling even braver, Jae reached out and grabbed your hand fully. Not even a second later, you pulled away.

“Sorry,” Jae mumbled.

You cleared your throat. “It’s okay. Let’s just get back to the hospital.”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

While you felt a little bad for Jae’s embarrassment, you were more annoyed than anything. You’d made it very clear at the beginning that you were just asking for a running partner and that was it. Jae had been at the hospital a few months before you started and he’d always been very helpful to you and was quick to show his kindness towards you. But all he ever was to you was a colleague. A coworker that you got along with.

In the past, you’d dated plenty. You had enough relationships to have an established history and experience, but the past few months, you just lost interest in the idea. Being an ER nurse in a high volume hospital in the middle of the city just took too much of your time and trying to match schedules with some who worked a normal eight-to-five job was just too much of a hassle. Besides, you were still young. You had plenty of time to try again in the future. You just weren’t interested in trying with a coworker. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

Back in the parking lot, Jae offered you a ride back to your place, but you declined, preferring the crowded, noisy bus to the awkward atmosphere that would surely cloud up the car.

As soon as you made it back to your townhome, you jumped in the shower and quickly scrubbed yourself clean before throwing on a fresh change of blue scrubs and running out the door to catch the bus again. Thanks to traffic, you ran into the ER with only three minutes to spare before you would be late. You hated cutting it this close.

“Hey, look who barely made it!” Claire giggled, leaning against the counter on the other side while you sat at the computer.

Out of the entire staff at the hospital, Claire was certainly your favorite. She was the doctor you worked with the most and she was certainly your work best friend. The two of you hardly saw each other outside of these white walls and yet you knew almost everything about her, from her looks-obsessed mother to her life. Sometimes you wondered if you knew a little too much about her. You didn’t really care. Claire was the kind of doctor who simply did her job because she enjoyed it, not to be a hero or for the “glory” and you appreciated that. Sure, the ER had more rough days than not, but she enjoyed the rush. And - if you were honest - so did you.

“I can’t control the traffic,” you grumbled, scrolling through the list of patients that were currently checked into the system.

“Or you could just get a car,” she suggested.

You glanced up at her before clicking print on the chart of your first patient to look in on. It was a little boy who’d broken his arm. Nothing major. He was actually ready to be checked out; just needed the paperwork for his parents to sign.

“I don’t feel like wasting the money,” you replied as you stood up to walk over to the printer. “I’ve done the math and it’s cheaper for me to walk or take the bus.”

Okay, that was a bit of a stretch of the truth. You kind of did the math and just guessed that it was a money saver. Besides, you liked not having to pay attention to the road, instead just putting in your headphones to listen to your music and waiting for your stop while you let your mind wander or unwind for the day. Sometimes you were even able to watch your shows on your phone if the ride was taking a little longer than normal.

Just then, the alarm signalling an incoming ambulance went off and the two of you ran to the entrance. Poor kid would just have to wait a little bit longer before he could go home.

Two EMTs came running in with a patient on a gurney. Their hands were covered in blood. One already had a bag valve mask over the patient’s mouth to keep him breathing. Claire jumped right in with you not far behind, taking over the attempt to save the man that was currently fighting for his life.

His neck was slashed deeply and blood was pouring from the wound too freely. Claire worked on applying pressure to the wound while you took over the bag valve. Jae ran up and helped pushed the gurney in deeper to the ER until you came to an empty room. Other nurses joined you, applying the IV and struggling to get the man hooked up to the monitor equipment.

“(y/n), keep at it!”Claire ordered, all joking from earlier dropped.

Jae jumped up on the man when the heart monitor started to slow down to only a few beats per minutes. But no matter how many compressions Jae did, it wasn’t working. There was too much blood loss. The monitor flatlined.

Claire backed up and looked at her watch. Her face was forlorn, the light that was usually in her eyes dimming greatly. “Calling it. Time of death: twelve-oh-seven p.m.”

You backed up as well, trying not to concentrate on the still body of the unfortunate soul who didn’t make it.

“Nurse (l/n)?” Jae sighed. He, too, was taking the loss hard.

It was always hard to lose a patient. No matter how many times it happened, you never really got used to it. There were times you wondered if you should transfer to a happier ward. One that didn’t break your heart on a weekly basis. But that wasn’t something you could dwell over at the moment.

You managed to peel your eyes away from the dead man to Jae. “Yes, sir?”

At work, he was Dr. Kim.

“Go and let the police know that he didn’t make it. We’ll have him transferred to the morgue so they can perform an autopsy.”

You nodded. “Right away.”

Of course this was a murder. That slash was too deep to be an accident.

Out in the lobby were two police officers and a detective. None of them looked happy to be there, but one of the officers looked especially uncomfortable. By the way he was bouncing on the balls of his feet and scanning the room with his eyes, you concluded that he was new to the force - or at least had never had to answer a call like this yet. Being a cop in this city, he would have to get used to it.

“Excuse me,” you approached them cautiously.

The detective stepped up, scratching the side of his head. “How is he?”

You exhaled deeply, hating the fact that you had to be the person who delivered the terrible news. “I’m sorry. He didn’t make it.”

The detective cursed. “We were so close. Now we’re back to square one.”

Unsure of what else to do or say, you backed away slowly to go wash your hands and calm down enough to start your rounds. In the bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror, patting your face with cold water. It was nothing special, but it was your own little ritual to try and bring you back to functioning mode every time you lost someone.

“Alright,” you whispered to yourself, “on to the next one.”

Back in the lobby, the police were gone and the other nurses were helping the recently arrived patients. Another person had already taken care of the little boy and so you sat back down at your computer, waiting for something else to happen.

Claire came back up to you looking particularly depressed.

“It’s okay,” you told her softly. “We’ll save the next one.”

“That’s not what’s getting to me,” she whispered. Leaning in closer to you, she continued, “They think he was latest victim of that serial killer.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

For the last five or so months, a notorious serial killer had been traumatizing your city. Very little was known about him - or her. All the police knew was that the killer picked his victims at random - all ages, all races, any - and drained them completely dry without leaving blood or a single piece of evidence at the crime scene that could help the police in any way. All the victims had their throats slashed and the roman numeral “VI” carved into their wrists. They were always dead before they were discovered, sometimes not for days.

“But he was still alive when he was found,” you pointed out.

“They think he might have been interrupted before he could finish the job,” Claire explained. “The cut to the throat was sloppy and made in haste.”

“Huh.” You clicked your tongue a few times, thinking. Usually the killer was careful. Only two of his seven victims were killed during daylight. “Maybe it’s just a copycat?”

Claire shrugged. “No idea. Maybe so. I still wish he’d made it. If he really is a victim of the killer, he might have been able to lead them to him.”

“Then this nightmare could be over,” you murmured.

It was an anxious time. No one knew who would be next. The randomness of the killer’s urges just heightened the fear. Going out alone after dark was no longer an option. It felt like grade school again, using the buddy system just to make sure you weren’t snatched off the street. Anyone could be a target, anyone could end up just like the man that whose life had ended less than half an hour ago. And that just might be what truly scared you the most.

**

Two weeks and there hadn’t been another murder. Police were still skeptical if the man that had been rushed into your ER was another victim, but he fit into the approximate timeline and the last official murder was nearly two months ago. Most of the victims had been found within anywhere from two weeks to a full month apart. Now… it was only a matter of time.

Coming home from a twelve hour shift, you weren’t exactly in the sharpest mind. However, as soon as you dropped your keys on the table, you knew something was wrong. Nothing actually seemed out of place, but something was bugging you. You circled your living room, trying to find the source of your uneasiness.

Every piece of your decor and furniture was exactly where you had left it ever since you first moved in and -

Wait.

When you first moved in, the townhouse had been brand new. The entire building was recently built with no prior tenants. That meant the paint had been fresh when you’d hung the photograph on the wall. It was one of your favorites; a rusted typewriter left and forgotten by the world until the photograph happened across it. You never moved it or took it down for the year and half that you lived here. The placing of the picture had it directly across from the window, letting the sun beam down on it most days. The paint was just barely faded around the frame. And someone had moved it.

Not by much. Maybe an inch. Maybe less. But you never would have noticed it if it hadn’t been for the bright paint exposed where the picture used to hang. The contrast wasn’t too great, but enough for you to catch on. Carefully, you removed the picture frame from the wall. Someone had even taken the time to nail in a new hook at the same height as your old one.

Glancing around the room, you realized that someone had been in your home and moved everything just an inch to the right.

“What the hell?” you gasped. Not knowing what else to do, you pulled out your phone. You couldn’t exactly call the police and tell them that someone had broken into your apartment just to move all of your things to throw you off?

There was no suspicious sign of forced entry and only one other person that you knew of had a key to your place.

“Hello!” your best friend sang on the other end of the line.

“Hey,” you greeted back with much less enthusiasm. Trying not to sound paranoid or accusatory, you asked, “You didn’t stop by my house at all today, did you?”

Dana was just as confused as you were. “No? Why?”

“Well, I-” You stopped. The fact that someone was in your apartment was obvious. But this wasn’t the kind of prank that Dana would pull. And she sounded genuinely surprised at your question. Dana couldn’t lie to save her life. Were you making a stupid decision in not telling her? Yeah, probably, but you didn’t want to worry her or accuse her of something she most likely didn’t do.

“Some of my chocolate is gone,” you lied. “I know your self control. But honestly, I probably just ate it as a late night snack and forgot.”

Dana laughed at you. “You’re always doing that. If you keep doing that, you’ll give yourself weird dreams.”

As a marriage and family counselor, Dana had a fairly good insight into the psyche and how people tick. However, you felt that on occasion her assumptions were a little bit of a stretch.

“I hardly doubt that.”

After a few more minutes of random conversation to catch up on what you’d missed in each other’s lives, the two of you said goodbye and you were once again left alone in your shifted apartment. In case of an unforeseen need in the future, you started taking pictures of the moved furniture and anything else that had been adjusted before you started on moving everything back. It didn’t take you too long, but by the time you were done you were ready for bed.

You washed away the day in a quick shower before tugging on an old shirt and shorts and climbing into your cool bed. Laying there in the dark, your mind began to churn. Maybe you should have told Dana about the moved objects. You should tell somebody. If it came up later, everyone might just think that you were losing it. Which was a high possibility.

Up until you fell asleep, you were constantly talking yourself out of going down the paranoia road. It was ridiculous. Just someone playing a stupid prank. There was no way that it could be anything but that. If someone wanted to terrorize you, this was a dumb way to go about it.

Or a bit genius. You were certainly losing sleep over it.

The next day at work while you went over a patient’s chart, you confided in Claire about the strange incident. Why she was easier to approach about it than Dana, you couldn’t answer.

“That is insanely clever,” Claire giggled as she walked beside you down the hall. “I mean, that’s something that would drive me crazy! It would have taken me days to figure that out.”

You had to agree with her that it really was a good tactic, but you couldn’t get past your initial worry. “But I don’t know who did it. I mean, it was a very peculiar kind of joke.”

Claire stopped at the front desk to hand over her clipboard to the nurse manning the station to be logged for the record. “Doesn’t Dana have a key?”

You leaned against the counter. “I mean, yeah, she does, but this doesn’t sound like anything she would pull. She’s more into the halloween kind of pranks. You know, blood and severed hands in the fridge kind of stuff.”

With a purse of her lips, Claire clicked her tongue. “Huh. You’d think as a therapist she’d be more into the mind games.”

“She’s a strange one,” you agreed. But maybe she was changing up her tactics? This would have been perfect. You didn’t really suspect her in the least.

On your break, you called her again. After a few rings, it went to her voicemail. She was probably in a session with some clients so you decided to leave a message.

“Hey, Dana, it’s me. I’m sorry for calling, but-” you took a deep breath. “You see, all of my stuff in my house was moved and I was just wondering if that was you? If it was, that’s okay, it’s very funny. I just want to make sure that someone didn’t, like, break in.” You were on the verge of rambling, so you just wrapped it up quickly before the embarrassment could be forever preserved on record. “Anyway, so give me a call back when you can. Thanks, bye!”

That had to be one of the most awkward voicemails that you’d ever left before.

For a few hours, you actually managed to forget about the prank and focus on work. The time went by fast, patching up a caring husband who’d cut his hand open trying to surprise his wife with a homemade meal after coming back from a business trip and looking after a poor grandmother who’d fallen down about three stairs and got a little bruised up. Both were okay, thankfully, making it a rare day of smiles in the ER.

You were already exhausted by the time you reached your lunch time. Happy for a moment to sit down and rest, even if for a little while, you munched down on your sandwich as you took your phone out of your pocket. Dana hadn’t called you back, but she had sent you a very short text that managed to send a chill down your spine.

Wasn’t me.