A month later, Stella found herself on the vibrant shores of Bali, her team of colleagues soaking in the island's splendor.
Dressed in a breezy white crop top and matching joggers adorned with blue floral patterns, Stella wandered along the beach with her companions. Her hair, loosely tied in a bun, swayed gently in the ocean breeze as they indulged in street food, shopped for souvenirs, and shared laughter under the setting sun.
By 8pm, the moon cast a luminous glow over the island, its silvery light dancing on the waves. They gathered for dinner at a quaint seaside restaurant, and Stella passed her camera to Earlene, showing her the snapshots she had taken that day.
Earlene's brows furrowed as she clicked through the photos. "Wait... look at this," she said, pointing to the screen.
"What is it?" Stella leaned closer, her curiosity piqued.
"That guy in the black hoodie—he's in almost every picture," Earlene murmured, her voice tinged with unease.
Stella's heart skipped a beat as her eyes scanned the images. There he was—an indistinct figure in a black hoodie, always lingering in the background. Her mind raced with questions. Who was he? Was he following them?
"We need to be careful," Stella said, her voice steady but laced with tension.
Before she could dwell on it further, a colleague called out to her. "Hey, we're heading to a party! Are you coming?"
Stella shook her head, masking her unease with a polite smile. "No, you guys go ahead. I'll head back to the resort."
Earlene touched her arm, her tone firm. "Text me as soon as you get there, okay? And keep an eye out."
"I will," Stella promised, though her thoughts were already consumed by the mysterious figure and the unsettling feeling that followed her.
Stella nodded and walked away, her mind preoccupied with unease. She decided to take the scenic route back, her feet instinctively leading her along the moonlit beach. The rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore offered a momentary sense of calm.
Reaching a quiet stretch of sand, she lowered herself onto the cool grains, her arms resting on her knees as she gazed at the endless expanse of water. Pulling out her phone, she dialed Gigi's number, seeking comfort in the familiar voice of her grandmother.
The line clicked, and Gigi's warm voice came through. "How's Bali, my dear?"
Stella smiled faintly as she heard Gigi's voice. "It's beautiful, Gigi. The beaches are breathtaking, and the moon tonight—it's like something out of a dream." She paused, her voice dipping. "But…"
"But?" Gigi's tone grew concerned. "What's troubling you, Stella? I can hear it in your voice."
Stella hesitated, staring at the waves lapping at the shore. "I feel like someone's watching me. There's this guy—he keeps showing up in photos. Always in a black hoodie."
"Stella." Gigi's voice sharpened. "You need to be cautious. Don't take this lightly. Stay with your colleagues or in crowded areas. Promise me that."
"I will," Stella assured her, though her tone lacked conviction.
"And, sweetheart, if you ever feel unsafe, leave. No trip is worth risking your safety."
"I know, Gigi. I just… sometimes it feels like I can't escape this shadow hanging over me. It's exhausting."
"You're strong, my darling. You've been through so much, and yet here you are, standing tall. But even the strongest of us need to lean on someone. Don't try to carry it all alone."
Tears welled up in Stella's eyes. "I miss you, Gigi. You always know what to say."
"And I always will, Stella. No matter how far away you are. Now, promise me you'll go straight to the resort and lock your door. No late-night wandering."
"I promise," Stella said softly.
"Good. And don't forget to call me tomorrow. I want to hear all about the good things in Bali—not just the spooky parts."
Stella chuckled despite herself. "Alright, Gigi. I'll call you. I love you."
"I love you too, my darling. Stay safe."
The call ended, leaving Stella with a bittersweet ache in her chest. She stood, brushing the sand off her clothes, and started walking back toward the resort. The shadows seemed to stretch longer under the moonlight, but Gigi's words echoed in her mind, steadying her resolve.
Whatever was haunting her, Stella wasn't going to let it ruin her trip—or her life.
As Stella made her way back to the resort, the rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the shore was replaced by an eerie silence. The fine hairs on her neck stood on end as she felt a presence—a shadow that seemed to echo her every step.
Her heart pounded as she quickened her pace, but the feeling of being watched didn't waver. With a sharp intake of breath, she turned abruptly into the nearby forest, her instincts screaming to confront whoever was trailing her.
Leaning against a tree, she calmed her breathing and scanned the shadows. The faint rustle of leaves confirmed her suspicions. "And here I was wondering who was following me," Stella said, her voice calm but sharp, her eyes narrowing as a figure stepped into view.
The black-hooded figure moved silently, the face concealed in shadows. Stella couldn't make out any features, but the way he stood—calm, almost relaxed—set her on edge. Whoever he was, he didn't seem afraid of her.
"Well, you've got my attention," she continued, her voice laced with determination. "Let's see if you can keep it."
Without waiting for a response, Stella launched into action. Pivoting on her heel, she delivered a swift roundhouse kick aimed at his torso. The blow landed squarely but barely moved him, as if she'd kicked a stone wall.
He stepped forward, reaching for her arm, but Stella was faster. She twisted out of his grasp and struck again—a quick jab to his ribs followed by a sharp kick to his knee. Yet, he absorbed the attacks without so much as a grunt, his movements unnervingly steady.
Before Stella could plan her next move, the man's hand darted into his pocket, retrieving a small bottle. In one swift motion, he sprayed its contents directly at her face.
Stella gasped, stumbling backward as her vision blurred and her body grew weak. Panic surged through her as her knees buckled, but before she could hit the ground, strong arms caught her around the waist, holding her steady.
Her mind fought to stay conscious, but the world around her was already fading into darkness. Through the haze, she heard a voice—deep, smooth, and dripping with an unsettling familiarity.
"It's been a very long time, little fish," he murmured, his tone laced with both amusement and something darker, something possessive.
Her lips parted as if to protest, but no sound came. The last thing she felt was the heat of his breath near her ear before everything went black.