Friday's Fade by Ismail "Ish" Rashad - HTML preview

Chapter 6: Blood and Ink

Astrid’s head pounded with the remnants of yesterday's nightmare. Her body felt like dead weight, but she pushed on, her feet carrying her through the unfamiliar streets of the village. Her muscles screamed with exhaustion, but her mind was already calculating—she needed to get out.

She hadn’t asked for help, but a woman had approached her outside the dingy storefront where she’d stumbled after escaping the warehouse.

“Are you alright, honey?” The woman’s voice was thick with concern, but her eyes held wariness—a silent assessment of Astrid’s torn clothes, the bloodstains, the look of someone who had seen hell and barely crawled out.

Astrid had been too disoriented to answer at first.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, brushing the woman off. No more trusting strangers. No more weakness.

But the woman didn’t back down. “Are you sure? You look lost… Where are you headed?”

Astrid almost didn’t respond. Then, she forced a tight, almost imperceptible smile.

“I don’t know. I’m from out of town.”

The woman frowned, stepping back slightly. “You’re in East Aurora, New York. Upstate. A little far from the city. You don’t look like you’ve been here before.”

East Aurora. Upstate New York. Far from home. The village felt alien, quiet, too clean—a cruel contrast to where she had just come from.

“I’ll be fine,” Astrid lied.

But the woman persisted, pulling out a crumpled five-dollar bill. “Take it. Just… stay safe, okay? I’ll be back to check on you again later.”

Astrid almost took it. Almost. But she wasn’t a beggar.

Her mind was already working—she had Mikey’s cash, Mikey’s keys. She didn’t need help. She needed a plan.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it,” she said coldly, turning on her heel and walking away.

She moved fast, avoiding glances from early risers. The quiet of the village unsettled her. There were no sirens, no blaring horns—just suffocating silence.

She kept walking until she found the mall. A place to disappear for a while.

Astrid sat on a bench for hours, staring blankly at the polished floors as people walked past without seeing her.

She had no phone. No way to reach out to Hanna.

But she had one thing: rage.

When the stores opened, she moved fast. Straight to the tech shop. A cheap phone. Paid in cash. She set it up immediately, logging into her cloud account. The first tether back to her old life.

Then, she mapped out her way home.

Her thumb hovered over the ride-share app. A trip from East Aurora back to campus? Nearly five hundred dollars.

She could afford it. But something felt… wrong.

She reached into her pocket, fingers closing around Mikey’s keys.

It hit her like a jolt of lightning. Mikey’s truck. It was still at the warehouse.

She didn’t need to pay for a ride. She had his car, his gas, his money.

Without hesitation, Astrid slipped out of the mall and made her way back—retracing her steps to the warehouse.

She kept her head low, moving through back roads. The moment she saw Mikey’s old, rusted-out truck sitting behind the warehouse, her heart pounded.

She climbed in. It smelled like him. Like cigarettes and beer.

Her fingers gripped the wheel. She turned the key. The engine roared to life.

Astrid let out a slow, shaky breath.

She was going home.

But this wasn’t an escape.

This was a warpath.

The past didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was what came next. The face of Julian, the others at the party, the ones who had tried to break her—they were her prey now.

When she finally arrived, her feet hit the pavement outside the familiar campus gate, but it wasn’t home anymore. It was a war zone. Her war zone.

She’d made it. But she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

When she finally reached the familiar threshold of her room, she locked the door behind her, sliding to the floor as sobs wracked her body. This place, once her sanctuary, now felt foreign. The weight of what had happened—what she had survived—pressed down on her like a suffocating blanket.

She crawled towards her bed, the soft duvet beckoning like an escape from the harsh reality that clawed at her. But as she reached for it, a chilling realization struck her. Her laptop was gone. The sleek, silver machine that held her research, the video of Valentina, the messages from EternalFlame – all of it vanished. Even the small wooden box with the crimson feather was missing.

Panic flared in her chest, a suffocating wave that threatened to drown her. They had been here. They had taken everything. They were watching her, controlling her, erasing her every move.

Astrid buried her face in her hands, the weight of their power crushing her spirit. She was alone, exposed, and utterly powerless. The shame of her violation, the fear of their retribution, the despair of her lost evidence – it all coalesced into a suffocating wave of darkness.

She stayed inside for days, maybe weeks. Time became meaningless. She kept the curtains drawn, retreating from the world as if the light itself might expose her. Nightmares plagued her sleep, and flashbacks consumed her waking hours.

Valentina’s footage haunted her relentlessly: her face etched with fear, trapped in the dark, her vacant eyes and the feather clutched in her hand a constant reminder of what Astrid had endured—and what she had escaped.

And then there was Julian. His twisted smile, the cold satisfaction in his eyes as he betrayed her, lingered in her mind like a festering wound. How had she been so blind? How had she trusted him?

She didn’t realize how long she had been sitting by the window, staring blankly at the street below, until she saw the figure. A girl from the party, she was with a friend of Julian’s, walking down the street. They all had masks on at the party, but Astrid remembered her, and she had seen her before walking with him. He was part of the party... She remembered his stature, even in the dark, he stood out anywhere—there was no doubt he had been there with her that night.

Astrid’s heart leapt into her throat. What was she doing here? Was this a warning? A trap?

The sight of her stirred something deep within Astrid—a mix of fear, anger, and a desperate need for answers. She threw on a coat and stormed out of the dorm, her bare feet silent against the pavement.

“Why are you here?” Astrid demanded, cornering the woman in an alley. Her voice cracked with rage and desperation. “What do you want from me?”

The girl’s eyes darted around, her body tense with fear. “Are you crazy? I don’t know who you are.”

Astrid’s fury boiled over. “You didn’t help me! You left me to die with them!” Her voice echoed off the brick walls.

The girl backed away, shaking her head. “Leave me alone! You crazy bitch!”

Astrid’s patience snapped. She shoved the woman, her strength fueled by weeks of suppressed rage and grief. The woman stumbled backward, tripping over a loose brick, her head striking a sharp rock with a sickening crack.

Time seemed to freeze as Astrid watched in horror. The girl lay motionless, her eyes wide and unseeing, blood pooling beneath her head.

Astrid’s breath caught in her throat. She knelt beside the body, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her temples. What have I done?

But the panic only lasted a moment. Slowly, a chilling realization washed over her. She had killed her. And yet, she felt no remorse.

Astrid’s gaze fell on the woman’s phone lying nearby. She picked it up, her fingers trembling. Her mind raced, scrolling through messages and photos. The phone was a treasure trove of information—perhaps names, locations, instructions. It was her key to answers.

Astrid’s jaw tightened. She wouldn’t let Valentina, or any of the others—be forgotten. Julian was going to pay.

A sense of clarity swept over her. She was no longer just a victim. She was something else now. Something sharper, deadlier. A predator.

That night, Astrid disappeared from campus, vanishing into the shadows. She left her old life behind, shedding her identity like a second skin. She became a phantom, stalking the streets, learning to fight, to manipulate, to blend into the darkness. Her almost perfect image was just a memory, trauma became her weapon, her pain her fuel.

Astrid sat in the dim glow of her motel room, her hands trembling slightly as she scrolled through her phone. She had spent hours combing through contacts, images, and messages, piecing together fragments of the night—the faces, the names, the ones who had hurt her. But it wasn’t just Julian she wanted now. He was the mastermind, the one who had orchestrated everything, but his friends? They had all been complicit.

Her finger hovered over the contact she had been avoiding: Jordan.

The conversation, a string of sweet nothings between him and the girl, had been tucked away in the early messages of her phone. The girl... her boyfriend. The one who had been at the party, always close by, always too eager to keep up appearances. Jordan.

Baby, I can’t wait to see you tonight… she read silently.

It stung in ways she hadn’t anticipated—seeing the words of affection, of comfort. She had been so close, so ignorant to the reality of the situation. The trust she had put in them, only to be betrayed.

Astrid’s mind raced. There was something darkly poetic about using his own weakness against him. The texts she had found between him and the girl had been innocent, but to her, they were a means to an end. A way to tear him from the life he knew, to strip him of the comfort that once belonged to his untouched world.

Come pick me up... she typed, her fingers still trembling as she added the location—a dark alley a few blocks away from campus. Her plan was simple: get him alone, make him see the truth of the monster he had been helping to feed. She didn’t need to say much. The invite itself would draw him in.

A few minutes passed. The screen flickered with a new notification.

Hey, I’m on my way, baby.

He was too eager. Too trusting.

Her stomach churned. But it wasn’t fear anymore. It was resolve.

She set the phone down with a cold, calculated gesture and grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair. She wasn’t the same girl who had walked onto this campus months ago. She had become something else—a version of herself that didn’t shrink from the darkness. She walked toward the door, taking a deep breath before slipping outside into the shadows of the night.

The alley was quiet, the shadows deep. Astrid leaned against the cold brick wall, waiting, listening. She could feel the weight of her actions hanging in the air. This wasn’t just about revenge—it was about reclaiming something she had lost. She couldn’t undo the past, but she could control the future. And Jordan? He would be her first lesson.

She heard the rumble of an engine in the distance, a car idling a few blocks away. Her heart thudded in her chest, but she didn’t let it stop her. Her movements were deliberate, precise. Her mind was clear.

The headlights flashed in the alley as the car turned the corner. Astrid stepped forward, making sure her silhouette blended with the darkness, her eyes sharp as the vehicle slowed to a stop.

The passenger window rolled down, and there he was—Jordan, smiling like he had no care in the world, like he was walking into a reunion with an old lover.

“You lost?” His voice was casual, almost playful.

Astrid didn’t respond at first. She let the silence settle, her gaze fixed on him. She could feel the pressure building in her chest, but she didn’t blink. She had to see this through.

"You're a lot more confident in person, aren't you?" she asked, her voice cold.

Jordan chuckled, clearly confused. “Baby, what’s wrong? You look... different. Get in!”

His words stung, but she didn’t flinch. “You’re too blind to see what’s right in front of you, Jordan.”

He looked at her, his smile faltering. “What do you mean? You—”

Before he could finish, Astrid moved in a blur. She yanked open the passenger door and slid inside, the knife already in her grip. Jordan barely had time to react before she drove the blade into his right shoulder.

He screamed, jerking against the seat, his body twisting in pain. Astrid didn’t hesitate—she tore the knife free and plunged it into his right thigh.

“Ah! What the—” His scream turned into a growl of pain as he swung at her with his left hand. His fist connected with her chest, knocking the air from her lungs.

Astrid gritted her teeth, pushing through the sting. He swung again, this time aiming for her face, but she ducked. His knuckles cracked against the headrest.

Seizing the moment, she reached for his seatbelt, unfastening it in one swift motion. With a grunt, she shoved him sideways, his injured body toppling out of the car. He hit the pavement hard, groaning in agony.

Astrid took a breath, then pulled on a pair of gloves. Calmly, she scooted over into the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel as she shut the door.

The engine roared to life.

Jordan writhed on the ground, his hands slipping in his own blood as he tried to crawl away. Astrid revved the engine, the sound slicing through the night like a warning.

Jordan’s breath came in ragged gasps. “Astrid... please—”

She revved the engine again.

He flinched, dragging himself backward, his body shaking. “Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t—”

“Do you really think you can be a part of their world and not pay for it?” she hissed, her breath heavy. Her hands were steady at the wheel.

Jordan’s eyes darted to the tires, fear beginning to fill them. “Astrid… no, please—”

“Don’t beg. Not from me. Not after everything you did,” she spat, her words venomous.

Astrid made a sharp U-turn, the tires screeching against the pavement. Then, slowly, she rolled forward. The headlights bathed Jordan in a harsh white glow, his face twisted in terror as he slithered on the ground, begging for mercy.

But there was none left in her.

She pressed her foot down.

The tension in the alley was suffocating. The tires crushed over his body with a sickening crunch. Jordan tried to pull away, half of him disappearing beneath the weight of his own car.

But she didn’t stop. She watched as his life drained away, the boy who had been complicit, who had stood by while she suffered.

It wasn’t just his life she was taking. It was a symbol of everything they had stolen from her. Control. Power. The life she had been denied.

Blood splattered in every direction, painting the street in shades of red.

For a moment, there was nothing but the low hum of the engine and the final, fading gasps of a man who had never once considered what it meant to be powerless.

Astrid exhaled. Then, without another glance, she pulled away, leaving him broken in the street.

No regrets. Just clarity.

Justice had been served, but she wouldn’t stop. Not now.

The nights grew colder as Astrid honed her pursuit. Her instincts had sharpened. She stalked the campus, weaving in and out of the shadows, following Julian from a distance. She observed him—his routines, his friends, his every move. She blended with the crowd, a silent observer.

He had no idea she was watching.

Julian spent his days acting like he was untouchable, roaming campus like a king in a kingdom of lies. But his arrogance, his indifference to what he had done to her, only fueled her determination. She knew he was involved in the darkness of that night. She knew he was at the center of everything.

Astrid moved like a ghost, invisible and unnoticed, hiding behind corners, slipping into doorways, always a step behind him, always watching.

She made her way to the student bar, the usual haunt for Julian and his crew. The night was their kingdom, and Astrid was learning the territory. She sat in the back, keeping her head down, her eyes sharp. She recognized a few faces—people who had been at the party, but she couldn’t bring herself to approach them yet. They weren’t her target. He was.

She waited until Julian finally stood to leave, his laugh ringing out with confidence, unaware that someone was hunting him.

Astrid slipped out the back door, trailing him as he disappeared into the night. She kept a careful distance, the hunt thrilling her in a way she hadn’t expected. There was a sick pleasure in the stalking, a twisted sense of justice building with every step closer she took to him.

But the world was watching, and things would never be the same for her. She could feel the weight of her pursuit—the quiet moments of doubt that slipped into her mind, the fear that she might fail. She hadn’t been careful enough. Her focus was unwavering, but there were dangers ahead. Astrid’s eyes were dark with purpose, but her body was already starting to feel the toll.

A sharp pain shot through her side as a figure appeared behind her in the alley, their grip tight around her wrist. She spun, throwing her elbow back in defense—but they were fast, stronger than her. The grip tightened as she struggled against the hold, a panic rising in her chest.

She wasn’t ready for this. Not yet.

Before she could react, she felt a sharp, searing pain slash across her side. The cold steel of a knife slid across her skin, leaving a trail of agony. She gasped, her knees buckling as the pain intensified, her vision briefly blurring.

Astrid’s hand instinctively reached for the wound, but the pain was overwhelming. Her breath caught in her throat as she stumbled back, clutching the bleeding wound, her legs shaking from the shock of it. She could feel the heat of her blood spilling from her side, but the pain only fueled her determination.

Julian’s face loomed before her—fear, anger, and confusion all mixed into one. His eyes were wide as he stared down at her, but she didn’t have the strength to strike back. The sharpness of the blade was too much, too quick. She didn’t have time to react.

Julian’s gaze flickered for a moment, and then something shifted. Panic took hold of him as he realized that she wasn’t just another stalker. She wasn’t here for answers. She wasn’t here for anything but him.

With a final glance at Astrid—who was barely able to stay standing—Julian turned, his steps frantic. His shoes slapped against the pavement as he sprinted away, disappearing into the night, leaving her behind.

Astrid’s breath came in ragged gasps, her hand still pressed against the wound. She was still standing, but the fight was leaving her. Blood trickled down her side, soaking her hoodie, but she couldn’t stop now. She couldn’t let him get away.

But the world was spinning. Her vision blurred as the weight of the injury dragged her to her knees.

In the distance, she heard footsteps. She tried to focus, tried to push through the pain. But Julian was gone, and she was alone in the dark alley, her blood pooling beneath her.

For a moment, it felt like everything was slipping away. But she wasn’t done yet.

Astrid’s head swam with dizziness as she staggered down the darkened campus pathways, her body weighed down by the pain that pulsed from her side. Blood seeped through her hoodie, staining the fabric, but she couldn’t afford to stop. The night was still young, and the campus hummed with activity. She had to get back to her motel or dorm—whichever was closer. She needed to escape the danger and get the bleeding under control before it was too late.

She pulled the hood lower over her face, tugging it tight as she moved through the shadows, walking as steadily as she could manage. Each step was deliberate, measured, avoiding every visible sign of weakness. If anyone saw her, they’d know something was wrong. If anyone noticed the blood—or worse, if anyone recognized the ghost of who she once was—they might ask questions she couldn’t afford to answer.

She couldn’t be caught.

Her breath hitched with every step, but she fought it down. She kept moving, each step a silent promise to herself—she would survive. She had to.

The pain was getting worse, but she forced herself forward, rounding the corner to her dorm. The relief of seeing the familiar building made her heart thud faster, but she didn’t slow. Not yet. Not until she was behind the locked door of her room.

As she reached the door, her hand shaking, she fumbled with the key, feeling the blood on her fingers. Panic gnawed at her chest as she pushed the door open, careful not to leave a trail. She stepped inside and locked the door behind her with a quiet click. The safety of her room wrapped around her like a shroud.

She leaned against the door, her heart hammering in her chest. Her body was shaking, her breath shallow as the pain from the stab wound became unbearable. She stumbled over to her bed, collapsing onto it, the weight of her blood-soaked hoodie pulling her down.

Her fingers were numb as she reached for her phone. She needed to talk to someone—needed help. There was only one person she trusted now.

Her hands shook violently as she dialed the number she had never hesitated to call before. The phone rang once, twice. Then, a breathless voice on the other end.

“Astrid?” Hanna’s voice was laced with concern, the sound of her coming to life in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“Astrid?” Hanna asked again, her voice rising. “What happened?”

Astrid’s voice cracked as she spoke. “I... I was attacked,” she whispered, barely able to breathe through the words. “I need you. Please come over.”

Hanna didn’t hesitate. “I’m on my way.” The line clicked dead, and Astrid fell back onto her bed, her face damp with sweat. She curled up into a ball, clutching her side as fresh tears slid down her face.

Minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

Astrid pushed herself up, barely able to stand, but she managed. She opened the door to find Hanna standing there, eyes wide with concern, her gaze darting over Astrid’s pale, disheveled appearance. The blood on her clothes, the anguish in her eyes—it all said more than words ever could.

“Oh my god, Astrid…” Hanna whispered, rushing inside. She took one look at her friend and immediately crouched down beside her, her hands trembling as she touched her shoulders. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

“I—I don’t know how to say it…” Astrid whispered, her voice breaking. “It was them, Hanna. Friday's Fade.” She choked on the words, the memory of everything coming back all at once. “I thought I was going to die.”

Hanna’s face went pale, and her hand found Astrid’s. “Friday's Fade…” Hanna breathed, her voice low, full of fear and disbelief.

Astrid squeezed her friend’s hand, her grip tight and desperate. “They did... things. Things I can’t—” Her throat tightened as the images of that night flooded her mind, the ritual, the laughter, the pain. She relived every second of the horror.

“I trusted him, Hanna,” Astrid’s voice cracked. “I trusted Julian. I thought he was different. But he—he gave me to them. Like I was nothing. Like I wasn’t even a person to him.”

The words broke free in a rush. She described it all—the drinks, the chants, the darkness. She told Hanna about the party, about how Julian had betrayed her. Every word felt like a wound, each sentence leaving her more exposed than before.

Hanna’s face hardened as she listened, her eyes flashing with both rage and sorrow. “I am so sorry, Astrid,” she whispered. “I had no idea.” She pulled Astrid into her arms, and for the first time since the attack, Astrid let herself cry. She let herself break.

“I thought... I thought it was my fault,” Astrid sobbed, her breath catching as the guilt and shame poured out of her. “I thought I was weak for letting it happen.”

“No,” Hanna said firmly, her voice filled with raw emotion. “No. None of this is your fault. You were manipulated. You were betrayed.” She paused for a moment, her voice softening. “Just like me.”

Astrid’s gaze met Hanna’s, a tear sliding down her cheek. In that moment, they understood each other completely.

Astrid swallowed, guilt rising in her chest. “Hanna, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you—back then. When it was happening to you—”

“Don’t,” Hanna interrupted, her voice quiet but firm. “You were there.” Astrid remembered the nights she’d held Hanna while she cried, her body trembling with rage she was too young to unleash.

“Every time I ran to you, you opened the door. Every time I couldn’t say it out loud, you didn’t push me. You saved me, Astrid. Even if I couldn’t save myself.”

The memory was vivid in both their minds. The way Hanna had stumbled into Astrid’s room late at night, her body shaking and her voice trembling as she begged to sleep over—just one more night. The way Astrid had sat by her, holding her hand as the unspoken truths suffocated the air between them. And the day Hanna had finally said it out loud: “My stepdad won’t leave me alone.” Astrid’s reaction hadn’t been outrage—it had been love. A steady, unwavering love that gave Hanna strength.

“I should have come to you,” Astrid whispered. “I should have trusted you.”

“I’m here now,” Hanna said firmly, squeezing her hand. “And we’ll get through this together.”

Astrid clutched Hanna’s hand tightly, her resolve growing stronger. “We’ll stop them. We’ll make them pay for what they did to Valentina. For what they did. For every girl they hurt.”

Hanna’s eyes blazed with determination. “We’ll get them. I swear it.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Astrid believed her.