Eva awoke drenched in sweat, the tendrils of a nightmare still wrapped around her mind. Her eyelids reluctantly opened, as if peeling apart like Velcro, revealing eyes burdened by exhaustion. Before stepping into the shower, she checked her phone: three Tinder matches.

Eva knew those right swipes meant busy weeknights and concocting new fabrications of her demanding job to avoid catching up with Chris, her partner of the last five years. As a financial advisor, she excelled at spotting investment opportunities in the market. In her personal life, she treated Chris as a disposable investment commodity.

While the water from the shower trickled down her body, she noticed that her throat felt parched. Her limbs seemed to carry the weight of more than physical burden. As Eva opened the shower’s crystal door, her gaze met the mirror. Fear coursed through her. Her small brown eyes, usually filled with determination, held a slight tinge of unsettling red. The short brown hair that framed her face seemed to encompass a pale and ill-looking countenance. Most chilling of all was the smile that graced her reflection—an eerie curve she knew she had not put on herself.

She ran back to her room, and quickly slipped into a black Prada dress that embraced her delicate frame. A Cartier watch adorned her wrist and Bvlgari earrings danced from her earlobes. Swinging a Dior backpack over her shoulder, she secured the keys to the Audi A8, and as the engine came to life, she commanded Siri to call her mother.

‘Hi, Mum!’

‘Eva! It’s wonderful to hear from you! How are you?’ 

‘I’m okay, but work isn’t going so well. We don’t have many clients at the moment. You know … interest rates … inflation.’

‘Hmmm …’

‘Do you think you can transfer money again this month?’ Eva asked her Mum, whose breathing was the only thing she could hear for what seemed too long.

‘Well, you know your father and I haven’t been in good health, and we’ve already spent a portion of our retirement savings,’ her mother replied. 

‘You know what? Forget I said  anything.’

‘No, no. We can certainly help. I’ll transfer money today.’

‘No, don’t worry, Mum.’

‘I insist.’

‘Thanks, Mum. Talk to you soon.’

‘Take care, darling.’

Eva’s mind wandered to the indulgence that awaited. She envisioned herself navigating high-end boutiques, fingers grazing over the fabrics of designer dresses. Thoughts of extravagant dinners—the allure of exquisite dishes and rare wines whetting her desires. And then there were her Tinder dates, those curated rendezvous would surely involve lavish cocktails and promises of more. 

***

A couple of hours into Eva’s office routine, a knock pulled her attention from the screen. Anna, a young intern whom she supervised, stood by the door, a stack of papers clutched firmly against her chest.

‘We have all these new clients for the month!’ Anna exclaimed. ‘I guess you can now say you are a financial rockstar.’

Eva chuckled and took a sip of her almond latte. 

‘All those financial models we worked on last year, which got rave reviews from clients and got us a chance to appear on national TV… you must be very proud,’ Anna concluded.

‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ Eva said. ‘You do the math; I do the talking. Great teamwork.’ 

‘Yeah… I suppose.’ 

Later, in a rare moment of stillness, Eva sat by her office’s window, the afternoon sun casting gentle patterns across the floor. Her fingers traced the rim of an empty porcelain coffee cup, a subconscious rhythm playing out. Her gaze drifted past the glass, lost in the horizon. 

Every now and then, Eva’s hand would tighten around the coffee cup, her knuckles white against it. She’d shift in her seat, subtly veering her focus to her surroundings—the play of sunlight on the curtains, the faint hum of distant traffic. This intricate dance was like threading through a dense forest where stepping into shadows felt far more secure than venturing into the open, uncertain light.

Late at night, after dining out with one of her Tinder matches, Eva returned home. She reached for her phone and dialled Chris’s number. With the call in progress, she moved around the kitchen, her steps echoing on the tiled floor. As she reached for a glass, a fleeting shadow flickered at the edge of her vision, its movement so swift and elegant that she momentarily froze.

Seconds after the shadow emerged again. Eva could see its features more clearly. The short brown hair, the ominous brown eyes gazing back at her. The unnaturally pale and slender figure evaporated in front of her eyes with the sudden sound of glass slipping from her hand. Wine splashed across the countertop. 

The sound of Chris’s voice reached her through the phone’s speaker, his words a distant echo. ‘Is everything alright?’ Eva’s fingers trembled as she wiped the spilled liquid, her voice hurried yet composed, ‘Yeah, yeah. I just got distracted and dropped the wine.’

After she hung up, Eva sunk into the couch, her eyes fixed on the television. As the characters moved across the screen, a nagging unease began to gnaw at her consciousness. It was a sensation that had lingered for some time now—an unsettling recognition that the elusive shadow, once distant and shapeless, was evolving. Each night, its presence seemed to grow: its contours sharpening, its details crystallizing. Eva kept her eyes on the TV screen for a moment longer before shaking her head and, with a quick reach of her arm, grabbed her phone from the coffee table.

With a quiver in her hands, Eva entered realestate.com into the Google search bar. ‘I’m getting out of here’, she thought. She sifted through images of available apartments until her eyes were red. The dim glow of the screen cast a light across her face, and before she knew it, sleep’s embrace had overtaken her once more. 

When she stirred awake, the room was shrouded in a dim haze. Blinking away the drowsiness, Eva slowly pushed herself upright. She walked towards the bathroom, her slow movements revealed the overpowering fatigue in her body. Leaning over the sink, she splashed her face with water. Then, with her head bent and eyes half-closed, she saw a contorted human-like figure lurking behind her. 

The figure’s unsettling features mimicked the physical strain that weighed upon Eva’s tired body. Its eyes, larger and more piercing than hers, bore into her as if searching for something beneath the surface. Eva straightened, her hands gripping the edge of the sink for support, but the mirror now held only her own weary reflection.  

Eva went to bed. She slept for a couple of hours, the sheets growing damper and damper. Her throat felt dry, and her body weighed heavily as if the bed was trying to swallow her. The stillness of the summer night was interrupted by the distant revving of an engine. The car must have been approaching her apartment building, for a sudden glimmer of light penetrated through the blinds. 

In the dimly-lit room, the creature slithered into view again, its eyes fixated on Eva lying in slumber upon the bed. With deliberate and unhurried movements, it positioned itself on all fours, a sinister grin distorting its features as it observed Eva’s vulnerable form. The creature’s calculating gaze remained locked onto her, its head tilting ever so slightly as it inched closer. Its smile widened in anticipation, and the rhythm of its breathing deepened.

Eva’s eyes fluttered open, a fleeting moment of confusion impairing her sight as the room materialised before her. Yet, before clarity could fully take hold, she saw a distorted version of herself looking back at her. In that harrowing heartbeat, with a vicious snap, the jaws of the beast closed around her neck.

Skin gave way, flesh yielded, bones fractured and the hidden recesses of Eva’s soul laid bare. The creature’s grin showed a sickening satisfaction. The night’s eerie silence concealed the scene within Eva’s apartment, yet not far away, others found themselves entangled in a similar battle. 

As the darkness settles, the anticipation of what dawn will bring becomes real. Some with gripped hearts are already laying in bed suffocating in fear, while others remain oblivious to the shadow creeping closer, ready to claim its next prey.

Silvia Rojas is an economist and writer born in Mexico City. Curious about everything, passionate about literature and addicted to conversations over coffee.