I swear I saw him. Touched him. Kissed him. Felt him. His breath was warm, his lips tasted of mintjust like always. He was even wearing that grey hoodie I used to tease him about, the one that was too big and made him look like a “soft tough guy.” He was real. He held me all night. Whispered “I love you” in my ear. Said wed get married next year. I remember every second. The way his fingers trailed down my arm. How he cried when I cried. How he made love to me so fiercely I thought my soul would split in two. And then he was gone.
I woke up alone. But I wasnt scared. Thought hed gone for a run, like he sometimes did. His cologne still lingered on the sheets. My skin still burned where hed touched me. But something wasnt right.
I called him.
Again.
And again.
Then my best mate, Emily, walked into my room, her face pale. I didnt get why she was crying.
“Sophie” 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. No.
I screamed. Pushed her. Called her cruel for saying it. Told her it wasnt funny. I showed her the text James sent me the night before. The voice note saying, “On my way. I miss your body next to mine.” She stared at my phone, shaking.
“Sophie he couldnt have sent that. He was already in the morgue.”
The world tilted.
My knees gave out.
I ran to the bathroom, grabbed the towel hed used, still damp. The hoodie he left on the floor. The bite mark on my neck.
He *was* here.
He had to be.
But the truth is James was buried yesterday.
And somehow, I 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 it, but all I got was static and my own terrified breathing.
Then I missed my period.
Twice.
Thought it was stress. Grief. Trauma.
Until I threw up five times in one day.
Took a test.
Two lines.
Positive.
I collapsed.
The only person Id been with was James.
But he was dead.
Buried. Decomposing. Gone.
Yet somethings growing inside me.
Something that kicks at night.
Something that glows under my skin when the lights are off.
And every time I cry and say I cant do this
I hear him whisper from the shadows:
“Youre not alone. Our son is coming.”
—
I dont remember falling asleep. Just waking up in the bathtub, the pregnancy test still clutched in my hand, those two pink lines mocking my sanity. I hadnt spoken to anyone for daysnot even Emily. My phone rang dozens of times. Her name lit up the screen. I ignored every call.
How do I explain Im carrying the baby of a man whos been in the ground for weeks? Whod believe me? I didnt even fully believe it. Until that night.
Id barely dozed off when something pressed against my belly from the inside. Not a normal kick. It felt intelligent. Deliberate. Like it was trying to get my attention. I shot up, gasping, hands on my stomach. Then I heard it again.
Jamess voice. Inside my head.
“Dont be scared, love. I chose you.”
I screamed and bolted from bed. Looked at my belly in the mirror, lifting my shirt. I couldve sworn I saw a faint pulse of blue light just beneath my skin. It flickered then vanished. My legs gave way. I crumpled to the floor, sobbing.
The next day, I forced myself to the hospital. Told the doctor I got pregnant after my boyfriend visited. Lied about the dates. Lied about everythingexcept the symptoms.
“Strange dreams. Skin that glows. Hearing voices from someone who isnt there.”
The doctors face slowly shifted from concern to quiet suspicion.
“Well run some tests,” she said carefully. “Stress can do a lot 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. Lying on the cold metal table, the technician went pale. She kept adjusting the scanner. Didnt speak 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 lake, the breeze ruffling his hoodie.
“Our son isnt like the others,” he said, his voice softer than the wind. “Hes me and more.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He just smiled sadly. “Youll understand soon. But you have to protect him.”
I woke to find the curtains wide open, though Id locked everything. The hoodie James wore in the dream was folded neatly at the foot of my bed. I touched it. Still warm.
Then I knewwhat was growing inside me was real. His. And it was changing me.
The next day, I finally called Emily. I needed help. She rushed over and 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 hidden behind her grans church. Inside, an elderly woman with long grey braids and pale eyes looked at me once and said:
“Youre not the first. But you must be the last.”
I asked what she meant, but her answer chilled me to the bone.
“You carry the child of a bound soul. That baby is both a blessing and a warning. His father wasnt meant to return. Now that door is 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 I heard Jamess voice again:
“Run.”
—
The room went freezing. The old womans eyes widened in fear as the shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls like claws.
“Hes here,” she whispered, clutching a rosary of bone.
Emily pushed me behind her.
But I wasnt scared of James anymore. Now I feared the *others*. The ones the woman said were coming because he broke the rules.
She scattered ashes in a circle and 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 get crossed both ways.”
I stepped in. My belly pulsed with that eerie glow. The baby kicked, harder than ever.
Then I heard the voices. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Screams. Moans. Pleas. Laughter. All from the dark.
“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 didnt mean 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 falling.
“Why me? Why the baby?”
He looked at my belly, then at me.
“Because our love was stronger than death. But love like that breaks the rules.”
Suddenly, something else stepped from the shadows. A 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 trembled.
The old woman began chanting.
Emily grabbed my hand, crying.
“Sophie! Dont leave 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 and 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
