DEAD OR ALIVE

Nyra sat in the dimly lit living room, her hands trembling as she held the cracked photo frame.

The picture inside, a younger version of herself and Kael on their wedding day mocked her with its illusion of happiness.

She couldn't recognize the woman in the white dress anymore. The sparkle in her eyes was long gone, replaced by shadows of fear and exhaustion.

The silence in the house was suffocating, pressing down on her chest like a weight.

Her bruises throbbed in rhythm with her heartbeat, a painful reminder of the life she had chosen, or the life that had chosen her.

Seven years. That was how long she had been here. Trapped. Dead, but somehow still breathing.

Her gaze flickered to the faint outline of the bedroom door upstairs, where Kael slept soundly.

The man who had once promised to cherish her had become her worst nightmare.

Each day felt like a game of survival, her spirit chipped away by his words, his fists, his indifference.

Her therapist's voice echoed in her mind: "Nyra, staying is a choice. Leaving is a choice. The question is, are you willing to choose yourself?"

It was a question she couldn't answer. Not yet.

But something was different tonight. The air felt heavier, charged with an unsettling energy that prickled against her skin.

It wasn't just the bruises or the exhaustion weighing her down. It was something more.

A presence.

The sensation of being watched clawed at her spine.

Not by Kael, he was deep in his usual whiskey-induced slumber. But something else. Something unseen.

Nyra's fingers tightened around the photo frame as she forced herself to breathe, to listen.

The distant hum of a car passing by. The rustle of wind against the window. And then

A creak.

Not from upstairs. Not from Kael's room.

From outside. Near the back door.

Her pulse spiked, a cold shiver racing down her arms.

She placed the frame face down on the table, silencing the lie of a perfect marriage, and pushed to her feet.

Her legs felt unsteady, her body weak from years of fear, but survival had taught her one thing, never ignore the feeling of danger.

She moved to the window, pulling the curtain aside just an inch.

The backyard was dark, the trees casting eerie shadows against the fence. But there, just beyond the porch light's weak glow

A figure.

Tall. Still. Watching.

Nyra's breath caught in her throat.

She didn't know who he was. But somehow, she knew exactly why he was here.

And for the first time, she understood the truth.

If you leave, you'll live.

No. That was a lie.

If you leave, you die.

The game had already begun. And she wasn't the only one playing.