The sky outside the motel bled gray. Clouds pressed low, heavy with silence.
Leah stood by the vending machine in the hallway, tapping the button for water. It clanked and whirred — but no bottle came. Just a hiss… like steam or breath.
She shook her head, muttering under her breath. "Figures."
From behind her, the hallway light flickered. Once. Then again.
A slow, rhythmic pulse.
She turned.
Nothing.
The vending machine hummed louder. A bottle fell — but it wasn't hers.
It was soda. Red. Cherry fizz.
She bent to grab it anyway, and noticed something scrawled in black marker on the machine's lower panel. She hadn't seen it before. The words were jagged, childlike — smudged but still visible:
"Wet. Slippery. Slit."
Leah frowned.
She looked back toward the others' room. She could hear voices — Cole and Mark talking about patterns again, obsessing over who was next. She hadn't wanted to hear it. Not tonight.
But she couldn't shake the feeling.
That eyes were on her.
Later that evening, as they all sat on edge watching local news, the report came in.
"Another freak accident occurred this morning at Oxblood Mall," the anchor said, face pale. "A worker was impaled by a falling sign after slipping near a burst water pipe. This marks the third water-related incident in two days."
They all exchanged glances.
Then — something happened.
Leah stood up to get a glass of water. As she turned on the sink, the pipes groaned deep — almost growling. Water sprayed out black at first. Then clear. Then red.
She screamed.
Mark rushed in, grabbing her back. Cole turned off the valve.
They stared at the red streak on the sink.
It smelled like iron.
Mark stared into the drain, eyes darkening. "It's you."
Leah shook her head. "No. No. It's not supposed to be."
"But you were near the lifeguard tower," Mark said. "Right next to the gate that broke open in my vision. "
Cole's hands clenched. "That was the point of entry."
"I'm marked," she whispered.
Then something clattered behind them. A shampoo bottle rolled across the tile on its own, spiraling, spiraling, spiraling—
Until it stopped with the cap pointed straight at Leah.
A drip hit her shoulder.
She looked up.
The ceiling vent had begun to leak.
Red.