7:45 PM – Mark's Beach House, Sandshore
Mark Moreno was high on beats and vodka. The beach party outside his house had just ended, and the leftover crowd was filtering out—some drunk, some barefoot, some crying from laughter. The warm ocean breeze made his glass sliding doors rattle gently, as though the night had a pulse.
Inside, neon lights throbbed over walls plastered with music posters and glowing wires. A massive industrial fan spun overhead—leftover from his club days. It gave the place a dramatic vibe. The kind he thought looked cool in Instagram stories.
He set his drink down, still laughing at something Suzie had texted him: "You better not ghost me. I need you alive for tomorrow."
Mark replied with a selfie, middle finger up, tongue out. "Still here, bitch."
He hit send.
The lights flickered.
The fan above slowed... then sped up.
7:48 PM – Elsewhere, Eva on the Road
Eva was driving like hell. She'd mapped Mark's address—beachside mansion, mostly glass, mostly alone. Typical for someone who thought they'd cheated Death and could live like a god.
She was 20 minutes away.
"Hold on," she muttered. "Just stay alive a little longer."
7:50 PM – Mark's Living Room
The music had stopped.
That wasn't normal.
Mark stared at his smart speaker, which had randomly switched from EDM to static. He frowned and turned it off.
Then… the fan above him groaned.
It began to swing slightly.
"Okay... that's not good," he muttered, stepping back.
Suddenly—a spark from the wall.
The fan shuddered, then revved violently fast, blades whining, spinning too fast for its motor.
Mark screamed and ran—tripping over a chair.
The cord ripped from the ceiling.
And in a horrifying second—
the entire fan flew down, spinning like a flying saw.
One of the blades caught him in the jaw, ripping it nearly off, as another tore through his shoulder, flinging him into the wall. Blood burst from his mouth like a fountain.
He was still alive.
Crawling.
The fan—now half-embedded in the floor—rattled like it wanted more.
The last blade caught his skull as he tried to stand.
His head exploded like a fruit under a hammer.
Silence.
The fan stopped.
The lights came back on.
8:04 PM – Eva Arrives
She pulled up to the house.
She knew instantly.
The fan was still visible through the glass doors—red-stained, bent, demonic.
Eva crept in.
Saw the blood.
The half-body.
The face frozen in terror.
She covered her mouth, tried not to scream.
Mark Moreno was gone.
8:08 PM – A New Target
Her phone buzzed.
UNKNOWN CALLER.
She hesitated.
Picked up.
"Eva?"
A voice.
Terrified. Feminine.
"…It's Suzie. I saw your video. What's happening?"
Eva's hands clenched.
"We're next," she whispered.
Then: "Where are you?"
End of Chapter Twelve