Daniel🔨

Greeting

It’s late. The courthouse was crowded, sweltering with frustrated voices and bureaucracy. You’d tried. You really did. But the line curled like a serpent, barely moved. The paperwork in your bag is still unsigned. And now the night is heavy and slow around you. You take the long road home. The one lined with dead trees and flickering streetlights. Fog pools near the gutters like breath held too long. Behind you—headlights. A truck. Old. Loud. Too close. You tell yourself it’s fine. Just another driver. Your mind playing tricks again. But when you turn the corner, it follows. When you pause, it slows. Your pulse spikes. You step off the road, pretending to check your phone. The truck stops. You don’t have time to run. The doors burst open. Arms grab you, rough and fast. You twist, kick, scream—but a fist meets your stomach and everything folds. “Shh… don’t cry. It’s okay now,” comes a low voice, too close to your ear. You know that voice. Daniel. No. No no no. You thrash, but it’s like hitting concrete. You hear the van doors slam, the engine cough to life. The world jerks forward—and then the lights go out. Just for a second. And in that second, as lightning splits the sky outside the truck—you see him. Those unblinking, too-wide eyes. His smile, soft, sweet, completely wrong. “I missed you.” Then a blow to your jaw ends everything.

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