I swear I saw him. Touched him. Kissed him. Felt him. His breath was warm, his lips tasted of mintjust like always. He even wore that grey hoodie he always moaned about because it was too big and made him look like a “gentle bruiser.” He was real. He held me all night. Whispered “I love you” in my ear. Said wed marry next year. I remember every secondhow his fingers trailed down my arm, how he cried when I cried, how he made love to me with such passion I thought my soul might split in two. And then he vanished.
I woke alone. But I wasnt scared. I thought hed gone for a run, like he sometimes did. His cologne still clung to the sheets. My skin still burned where hed touched me. But something wasnt right.
I called.
Again.
And again.
Then my best friend, Emily, walked into my room, face pale. I didnt understand why she was crying.
“Clara” she whispered. “You dont know?”
I laughed. “Know what?”
“James is dead.”
I blinked. “Dead how?”
She sobbed harder. “Two days ago. Car crash. The night of the storm.”
No. No. No.
I screamed. Shoved her. Told her she was cruel for saying it. That it wasnt funny. I showed her the text James sent me the night before. The voicemail that said, “On my way. Miss your body next to mine.” She stared at my phone, trembling.
“Clara he couldnt have sent that. He was already in the morgue.”
The world tilted.
My knees gave way.
I ran to the bathroom, grabbed the towel hed usedstill damp. The hoodie crumpled on the floor. The bite mark on my neck.
He was here.
He had to be.
But the truth was James was buried yesterday.
And somehow, Id made love to him last night.
Days passed. Nights became unbearable. I couldnt sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Sometimes standing at the foot of my bed. Sometimes whispering in my ear. One night, I heard his voice: “Dont cry, love. Im still with you.” I tried to record itjust static and my own ragged breathing.
Then I missed my period.
Twice.
I thought it was stress. Grief. Trauma.
Until I vomited five times in one day.
I took a test.
Two lines.
Positive.
I collapsed.
The only person Id been with was James.
But he was dead.
Buried. Rotting. Gone.
Yet something was growing inside me.
Something that kicked at night.
Something that glowed under my skin when the lights were off.
And every time I sobbed, saying I couldnt handle this
I heard him whisper from the shadows:
“Youre not alone. Our son is coming.”
*
I dont remember falling asleep. Only waking in the bathtub, the pregnancy test still clutched in my hand, those two pink lines mocking my sanity. I hadnt spoken to anyone in daysnot even Emily. My phone buzzed endlessly. Her name lit up the screen. I ignored every call.
How could I explain carrying a dead mans child? Whod believe me? I barely did. Until that night.
Id just drifted off when something pressed against my belly from inside. Not a normal kick. It felt deliberate. Like it was trying to get my attention. I bolted upright, gasping, hands flying to my stomach. Then I heard it again.
Jamess voice. Inside my head.
“Dont be afraid, love. I chose you.”
I screamed and scrambled out of bed. Lifted my shirt in the mirror. I swore I saw a faint pulse of blue light beneath my skin. It flickered then vanished. My legs gave out. I crumpled to the floor, sobbing.
The next day, I forced myself to the hospital. Told the doctor Id conceived after my boyfriend visited me. Lied about dates. Lied about everythingexcept the symptoms.
“Strange dreams. Skin that glows. Hearing voices of someone not there.”
The doctors expression shifted slowly from concern to quiet suspicion.
“Well run tests,” she said carefully. “Stress can do strange things to the mind, especially with pregnancy hormones.”
She pressed her stethoscope to my belly. Her face froze.
“I cant hear a heartbeat. But somethings moving.”
She ordered a scan. As I lay on the cold metal table, the technicians face paled. She kept adjusting the machine. Said nothing until I asked what was wrong.
“Theres a fetus,” she whispered. “But its glowing.”
I left without waiting for results. That night, I dreamed again. James stood by our old spot at the riverbank, wind tugging at his hoodie.
“Our son isnt like the others,” he said, voice softer than the breeze. “Hes me and more.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He just smiled sadly. “Youll understand soon. But you must protect him.”
I woke to find the curtains wide openthough Id locked everything. The hoodie James wore in the dream was neatly folded at the foot of my bed. I touched it. Still warm.
Then I knewwhat grew inside me was real. His. And it was changing me.
The next day, I finally called Emily. I needed help. She rushed over, hugged me tight. I told her everything. Showed her the glow in my belly. The dreams. The voice. The baby.
She didnt laugh.
Didnt scream.
Just whispered, “I need to take you somewhere.”
She led me to an old house behind her grandmothers church. Inside, an elderly woman with long grey braids and pale eyes took one look at me and said:
“Youre not the first. But you must be the last.”
I asked what she meant. Her answer chilled me to the bone.
“You carry the child of a bound soul. That babys a blessing and a warning. His father shouldnt have returned. Now that doors open. And others are crossing.”
“To take him?” I asked.
“To take you.”
Suddenly, the lights flickered. An icy breeze swept through the windows.
And from the shadows Jamess voice again:
“Run.”
*
The room turned freezing. The old womans eyes widened in fear as shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls like claws.
“Hes here,” she whispered, clutching a rosary of bone and beads.
Emily shoved me behind her.
But I wasnt afraid of James anymore. Now I feared the others.
The ones the woman said were coming because hed broken the rules.
She scattered ash in a circle, told me to stand inside.
“Dont step out, no matter what. Hear me?” she warned. “Youre a bridge now. Between life and death. And bridges can be crossed both ways.”
I stepped in. My belly pulsed with that eerie light. The baby kickedharder than ever.
Then came the voices. Dozens. Hundreds.
Screams. Moans. Pleas. Laughter.
All from the darkness.
“James, please,” I whispered. “Whats happening?”
Then I saw him.
But not like before.
His eyes were hollow, full of sorrow and fear.
“Im sorry,” he said. “I never meant to drag you into this. I just missed you so much. Wanted one more night. One more moment. I didnt know I was opening a door.”
I stepped closer, tears streaming.
“Why me? Why the baby?”
He looked at my belly, then me.
“Because our love was stronger than death. But love like that breaks the rules.”
Suddenly, something else lurched from the shadowsa monstrous, twisted figure with half a face and burning eyes. It hissed at me.
James moved between us.
“You cant have her!” he roared. “You cant take our son!”
The thing laughed.
“You broke the rule, spirit. Touched the living. Now, we feast.”
The room shook.
The old woman began chanting in a strange tongue.
Emily grabbed my hand, crying.
“Clara! Stay in the circle!”
I screamed as the monster lunged.
James tackled it mid-air.
The woman shouted:
“NOW! Choose, girl! Life or love?”
James turned to me, bloody, fading.
“You have to let me go, love. For our son. For you.”
I sobbed, shaking my head.
“I cant lose you again!”
“You never lost me. I live in him now. In you. But if you hold on theyll take everything.”
The lights exploded.
The floor cracked.
The shadows howled.
And with all the pain in my heart, I screamed his name and said goodbye.
