SPECTRAL.

† E L E V E N †

     Her explanation surprised me, its precision and clarity. I had thought she would wave it off as mystical nonsense, but instead she gave me something tangible, something that carried weight.

     "I see," I said softly, the edges of understanding folding into me.

     Silence settled for a beat. She held my gaze, her expression sharpening into something mischievous. "Want me to read yours?"

     I laughed faintly, shaking my head. "No. I don't need to know my future."

     Her brows shot up. "Who wouldn't want to know?"

     "I wouldn't." My smile was thin but steady.

     She tilted her head, squinting at me like I was an unsolvable puzzle. "Everyone wants to know. Even people who say they don't. Don't you wonder?"

     Her words tugged at something buried. Did I wonder? Of course I did. I wondered if one day I'd wake up and be free of the shadows clinging to me, if I'd ever know what it was like to live without watching the dead breathe among the living. I wondered if there would be a version of me that didn't flinch at every cold draft or every fleeting silhouette. Or maybe this was all I would ever be—haunted, fractured, stuck between two worlds.

     The wondering pulled me closer than I cared to admit. Against the voice in my head screaming no, I heard myself murmur, "Fine."

     Her smile returned instantly.

     A few minutes later I was sitting cross-legged on the floor before her bed. McKayla looked alive now, her boredom forgotten. She shuffled the cards with reverence, each slide and turn of paper deliberate, like an extension of her pulse. She tapped the deck, whispered something I didn't quite catch, then spread three cards across the bedspread.

     "Pick one," she said.

     I reached out slowly, my fingers hovering before brushing against the card on the left. I pulled it free and placed it in her hand. She flipped it.

     The image struck me first: a dark figure cloaked in black, standing on jagged ground, arms stretched wide. Behind it, red streaks licked the horizon like fire, and beneath its feet the outlines of bones and shadows.

     McKayla's smile faltered. She stared at it longer than seemed necessary.

     "What?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

     Her brows knitted. "This… isn't good. It says there's something around you. Not just strange energy but… dark. Dangerous. Hungry."

     I blinked at her, my stomach tightening. Strange things surrounding me—that part, I understood. I had lived in strange all my life. But the words dangerous and hungry settled in my chest like ice.

     "Can I pick another?" I asked, my throat dry.

     She hesitated, then nodded, sliding the first card aside.

     This time I chose the middle. The image was brighter—yellow skies, but cracked with black fissures spreading like veins. A tower crumbled in the distance, people falling from it, reaching for help that wouldn't come.

     Her lips thinned. "This one says something terrible is coming."

     "Something terrible like what?"

     She shook her head. "It doesn't say. Just… terrible." Her unease was visible now, but she still urged, "Go ahead. Last one."

     I reached for the third card. Its surface was almost cold to my fingers. When she turned it over, my heart stuttered.

     The picture was simple. A skeleton robed in shadow, a scythe in its hand. The word etched at the bottom was clear and brutal: Death.

     Her frown deepened, her voice steady but low. "It says death. Nothing less. Nothing more."

     I felt a chill creep into me, sharp and merciless. I hadn't expected to care, hadn't expected the cards to pierce me. But now my hands trembled faintly. I regretted it instantly. I regretted agreeing, regretted letting curiosity pull me into a place I should have left untouched.

     I stood quickly, dragging my chair back with me, retreating to my desk as though distance might undo what I had seen. My thoughts spiraled. Why death? Why now? Was it me? Someone close? Or was it just the eternal joke life played on me, dangling horror in front of me until I cracked?

     McKayla's mouth opened, but before she could speak, her phone shrieked alive. She snatched it up, her voice flipping into brightness as she answered. Whoever it was had her grinning, excited. The sound grated against my unraveling thoughts.

     I stared at my book, unseeing. The cards replayed in my mind on a loop, the dark figure, the crumbling tower, the skeleton. Over and over, a reel I couldn't eject. I regretted it with every bone in me. Regretted letting her shuffle open the shadows.

     She hung up moments later, still glowing. "Yeah, I'll be there," she had said to the caller before cutting the line. She turned to me then, but her smile faltered at my expression. "You look like you've seen—" she stopped herself, perhaps realizing the weight of that phrase with me. Instead she tried for lightness. "Come with me. There's a party at a friend's place."

     I shook my head firmly. "Aren't parties banned in dorms?"

     "Not in the dorms," she countered. "It's off-campus. No rules, no problem."

     "I'm not going," I muttered. "You go. Have fun."

     She snorted. "Fun? I'm not going for fun. I'm going to read cards, make a little money. I could use an assistant."

     I opened my mouth to refuse again, but she was already leaning forward, her eyes gleaming, persuasive. She wanted me there, not as entertainment but as a presence, as backup. And despite every instinct telling me to stay in the safety of my corner, she eventually wore me down.

     And so, against all the whispers in my mind, I agreed.