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United States
ell had always been strange, the kind of strange that made shadows curl differently when she entered a room. becca noticed her first during a thunderstorm. ell stood barefoot in the rain outside the old school library, staring at the lightning as if it were speaking to her.
“i like storms,” ell said without turning her head.
becca didn't ask what she meant. she just nodded and said, “me too.”
from that moment, becca was pulled into ell’s orbit — or maybe it was a trap.
but ell never answered directly.
“there’s nothing back here,” becca said.
“there is if you know how to look.”
that’s when becca saw it — a house that shouldn’t have been there. it was half-buried in vines, its windows pulsing with a soft red glow. becca’s chest tightened.
inside, the house smelled of old roses and fresh blood. the walls breathed, just slightly. becca tried to leave, but ell held her wrist with a grip like iron.
“you said you loved me,” ell whispered.
“i do,” becca said, trembling.
“then stay.”