Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

After leaving the Larson estate, I hailed a cab and made my way back to my childhood home

alone.

Ever since my parents died in that tragic car accident, debt had forced me to sell off all our properties except for this one old house. It was a haven of memories, all that remained of my life with Mom and Dad.

Stepping out of the taxi, I was greeted by the sight of a place I hadn’t seen in ages, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within me.

I retrieved the key hidden beneath a flowerpot and stood motionless at the threshold for a long time before I could bring myself to unlock the door.

The house was quiet, filled with photographs of me and remnants of my parents‘ life.

It seemed as though nothing had changed, yet everything was different.

Sitting on the couch, I gazed at a painting on the wall, lost in a dreamlike reverie.

“Click—”

Suddenly, a faint noise came from behind me.

My body tensed instantly, every nerve on edge.

Was someone in my house?

I didn’t dare to turn around; instead, my hand slowly crept towards my phone, intending to call the police.

But it’s always the same in moments of sheer panic – fumbling and clumsy, it took an eternity to unlock the screen.

I could feel someone’s gaze boring into my back, getting closer.

With a sharp intake of breath, I spun around to face the intruder.

There, in the doorway, stood a man gripping a bat, his face dark with intent.

Frozen in place, I was mute with terror.

This man…

Tall, with a scowl that could freeze blood. His right cheek was marred by a large burn scar, and his fingers bore similar marks. His appearance was the stuff of nightmares.

The fear I felt was identical to the terror that gripped me just before my death.

“Have you been following me?” His voice was gravelly.

My mouth opened, but no words came out – it was fear manifest, emanating from my very soul.

16:16

“How did you know I’d be here?” He furrowed his brow, tossing aside the bat as if he was used to conversing with me.

I could only stare, rigid with shock.

That voice… It had to be the same man who killed me. But he seemed to recognize me?

No, that’s not right. I was now assuming Foebe’s identity.

Why would he recognize me?

“I… didn’t know you’d be here,” I murmured, taking a deep breath. “This was Phoebe’s place.

wasn’t it? I’ve been getting close to her friend Stella recently, and she mentioned where Phoebe used to live.”

The man settled himself on the sofa. “I’m just laying low here for a few days.”

I remained standing, stiff as a board.

“It seems your imitation has been quite successful,” he mocked dryly.

I remained silent, my body rigid with confusion.

What did he mean?

What was the connection between Foebe and this man? What was I supposed to be imitating?

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“Brendan’s in trouble now.” I guessed, trying to connect the dots to my collaboration with the Langley family.

“You’re carrying his child?” He seemed uninterested in the Langley affairs, just staring at me with a dark intensity.

A chill ran down my spine. This man looked like he could kill me at any moment.

But why… why would he be staying in my house?

“Yes…” I whispered.

Suddenly, the man laughed, a wild, unhinged sound.

I tensed, unsure of what to say next.

“He thinks you’re Phoebe?” He spoke first as if talking to himself. “He actually believes you’re Phoebe? Hah… So much for love that runs deep. Just any girl can step in and take Phoebe’s place in his heart!”

I was gripped by alarm, staring at him in shock.

What did he mean by mistaking me for Phoebe?

“Don’t get clever,” he snapped, his menacing aura intensifying. “You think by tracing Phoebe’s footsteps, by imitating her, he’ll keep listening to you?”

I kept silent, letting him speak.

16:16

“Just do what I’ve told you, and don’t get any ideas,” he warned in a low, threatening tone.