247 Iesp 458 Risa Murakami — Apart

I heard breathing behind me. Not a whisper. Not a wind. The wet, rhythmic inhale-exhale of someone standing too close.

“Because 458 means she’s not a ghost,” Risa continued, fading at the edges. “She’s a hunger . And every eleven months, she needs a new resident to feed on. I was number 247. You’re next.” 247 IESP 458 Risa Murakami Apart

“You’re not here to document me,” Risa said. Her voice came from everywhere and nowhere, like a radio tuned between stations. “You’re here because IESP sent you to clean up their mistake.” I heard breathing behind me