It had been hours since Clara arrived home and she hadn't experienced another buzzing episode since.
She sat on the foot of her bed in only her underwear and pink painted toes. To her right, a full-length mirror in the corner reflected her small dorm room—an unmade bed, a pile of textbooks on her desk, and a curtain drawn window.
She glanced at her reflection and blinked.
She didn't look as pale and sickly as before. In fact, her cheeks held a bit of color. The hollowness under her eyes that she noticed earlier was also gone. She rose from the bed, stretching out her stiff limbs before padding barefoot to the kitchen.
She was lucky enough to have snagged a surprisingly spacious dorm room with no roommates and within walking distance from campus. The whole block was co-ed student housing from the university and each narrow brick building was full of restless energy. Usually, on a Thursday night, the sound of parties would spill into Clara's open window but tonight, the complex was peaceful and silent.
She opened her cupboard, pulled out a glass cup, and filled it from the tap, taking slow sips as she leaned against the counter. The cold water was refreshing, and for a fleeting moment, she thought maybe she'd been imagining the earlier buzzing sensation. Maybe it was just stress, or dehydration, or something she could explain away if she tried hard enough.
Then it happened.
It started with a single sharp jolt in her chest, a sudden, searing sensation that made her gasp and clutch at her sternum.
The cup that was just in her hand moments before was now in an array of sharp, glistening pieces on the ground. Clara had never even realized it had fallen.
Her entire body was frozen, locked in place by something she couldn't name. It felt like someone had jammed jumper cables into her chest, forcing her heart to restart after stalling.
Her vision blurred and the buzzing became overwhelming. It seared through her veins, shaking her bones and setting her skin on fire.
She staggered backward, her hip bumping the counter, her fingers trembled violently as the sensation surged through every inch of her body.
Blue-white sparks flickered at the edges of her vision. She looked down and saw her hands crackling with small bursts of electricity, thin tendrils of light dancing between her fingertips. The sound was sharp and alive, like static popping off a wool sweater but magnified a hundredfold.
A scream was struck in her throat.
The flickering light started to spread, tiny bolts racing across her forearms, crawling under her skin like glowing roots of a tree.
"What is this, what's happening?" Her voice shook as she staggered to her bedroom, grabbing the edge of her desk to steady herself. Her breath came fast and shallow. She'd never felt so much pain in her life.
Lightning-shaped veins webbed higher, across her nude chest, her arms, her thighs. She spun toward the mirror and gasped.
She looked like a human thunderstorm, alive with something she didn't understand, something that didn't belong there.
Something deep inside shouted, Run.
She didn't question it.
Seconds later, she was grabbing the nearest dress from her chair, yanking it over her head as she fumbled for the flip flop shoes at the door. Her heart thundered, her vision tunneling as she swung the door open and rushed into the night.
She felt possessed as she started the car, the hum of the engine drowned out by the pounding in her head and the crackling in her fingertips. She didn't remember even getting in the car or deciding where to go… her body just moved, steering her down dim streets and winding roads as though someone else was guiding her.
Her senses were unnervingly sharp. She could hear the rustle of leaves in the bushes as she sped past, see the gleam of headlights in the distance far too clearly. Every sound, every flicker of light, every movement around her made her tenser.
The electrical shocks kept coming, rippling through her body like violent waves. Every turn of the wheel sent more sparks shooting across her skin. Her hands twitched on the steering wheel, snapping and crackling against the leather, leaving faint scorch marks behind.
By the time she slowed, she had realized she was pulling into an old industrial district. The streets were mostly deserted, the pavement cracked and overgrown.
Looming in front of her was a massive abandoned warehouse, its walls streaked with graffiti and the windows were dark and broken.
And yet… she felt it. That pull. That magnetic force that told her she was supposed to be here.
Clara parked a short distance away and sat frozen for a moment, her breath fogging the windshield. A black SUV was tucked behind an embankment nearby, angled in such a way that it would be invisible to passing cars. Her stomach dropped.
"I should just leave…" she thought, her fingers gripping the wheel tightly. "What am I even doing here?"
Her eyes darted across the lot, scanning every shadow for movement. Nothing. No guards, no lights, no signs of life. Just the SUV, ominous and still.
The buzzing grew louder, as though her own body was calling to something inside the warehouse.
Her instincts screamed at her to go home, to lock her door, to hide under her blanket and pretend none of this was real. Instead, she opened the car door and stepped into the night.
The warm evening air did nothing to stop the shiver that ran down her spine. Her boots crunched softly against the cracked pavement, the sound deafening in the eerie quiet.
She reached for a nonexistent pocket and realized that in her panicked rush, she had forgotten to grab her phone.
"Crap," she muttered, crossing her arms against herself tightly as if that would shield her from the invisible current pulsing around her.
She moved cautiously, drawn forward like a moth to a flame. The sparks on her hands flared brighter, buzzing louder, reacting to… something. Like a beacon.
Her steps carried her to the side of the building where a shattered upper-level window gaped open. It reminded her of a jagged-tooth mouth waiting to swallow her whole. Below was a dark storage area filled with wooden crates and pallets.
She climbed on top of a pile of pallets that were stacked under the window and carefully climbed up and pulled herself through the opening, her fingers gripping rusted edges of metal and crumbling concrete. She lowered herself into the shadows. Her flip flops landed softly, a puff of dust kicked up as she hit the floor.
The air smelled like damp wood and rust. The thick dust that lingered in the air was heavy and suffocating.
Then she froze. Her breath loud in her ears.
She wasn't alone.