Supernatural thriller | Rising fashion influencer Rhea is gearing up for her runway debut, but her perfect world is upended when she finds herself haunted by a ghostly doppelganger.
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Twenty-four-year-old Rhea Patel has it all-the career in fash...
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As Rhea outstretched her arm, reaching for something that wasn't there, she continued to mumble, "Mama." Laying on her side, weak and in need of assistance, she groaned, and I could see death closing in even without the decelerating beeping of the vital sign monitor in the distance.
A pit formed in my heart for her suffering, for our pain. But I didn't have time to bemoan as Nolan towered above her with a menacing glare in his leaking, hollow eyes like a giant to an injured young lamb. The way his body levitated inches above the ground, the toes of his shoes angled straight down in the most unnatural way, sent chills down my spine.
"You are no longer needed." He moved toward me, not even an attempt to lift a foot to step over Rhea who lay on the floor in her own blood, his legs easily passed through her as if her body was nothing more than an illusion. And he treated her as such, showing no interest in the physical body whatsoever. "I'm gonna get rid of you once and for all."
"You would have tried to get rid of me even before this runway gig if I had the courage to use my voice back then and tell you to fuck off." Although I backed away to keep space between us, I mimicked his glare, keeping my eyes locked on his grotesque facial features. I wanted to dig deeper, to pull from my pain and really hit him where it hurt. "I should have listened to my mom a long time ago and left you alone to rot in hell."
He hissed from the stink. "You wouldn't have left me. I gave you your career," he countered. "You're a smart girl, babe. You followed the money, fame, and success. I could have battered you black and blue and you would have stayed, because I made you who you are. That's no secret."
"I was unhappy. No, miserable." I went on, taking deliberate steps back that took me further from Rhea. In case her conscious slipped again, Nolan would be nowhere near her to coax the other phantom to stay. "I told you everything was fine, made you believe I was content, and that things were peachy cobbler. But now I realize I was trying to convince myself of those things. I was broken. We were broken. And we both know the lie we lived."
"Broken things exist to be fixed," he continued toward me. "I am an expert and repairing broken things. That's why you hired me, that's why you fell in love, that's why you let me inside of you. Because I fixed you, your sad life, and your lackluster career. I made you, Rhea."
I nodded, agreeing. "Sure. You're right. You can take credit for it all—my happiness, my life, my career—but what good is any of it now anyway?" I went on. "Look at me, even if I survive this, I will never be the same. You made sure of that. No one will want to hire me, photograph me, or see me in a beauty campaign ever again. And you know what? I like it that way. So, go ahead and take credit for my entire existence as Rhea, but the one thing you won't take is my life."
"Ma?" Rhea's muffled voice grabbed my attention as she cried, "Mama?"
Jos appeared from my periphery, cautiously making her way towards the horrid scene. "Rhea?" she called out, her voice soft yet shaky. "Can you hear me?" There was concern in her demeanor but not for the right reasons.
