The night after our intensive day of research, I lay in bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. The dormitory was quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves outside the window. Sam was already asleep, his gentle snores a comforting rhythm in the darkness. I closed my eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep to recharge for the challenges ahead.
But sleep did not come easily. Instead, I found myself tossing and turning, plagued by a sense of unease I couldn't shake. It was as if something was watching, waiting. The air felt thick, oppressive, and the shadows seemed to stretch and shift with a life of their own.
Finally, I drifted into a restless slumber. My dreams were fragmented and eerie—a labyrinth of dark corridors and echoing whispers. In the dream, I wandered through the Academy, but it was different. The walls were covered in strange, pulsing symbols, and the air was filled with an almost palpable sense of dread.
I turned a corner and found myself in front of a door I didn't recognize. It was old and weathered, with deep scratches marring its surface. A cold wind seemed to emanate from the gap beneath it, and I felt an inexplicable compulsion to open it.
With a trembling hand, I reached for the doorknob. As soon as I touched it, a chill ran through me, and the whispers grew louder, more insistent. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was dark, lit only by the flickering glow of candles scattered around. In the center stood a figure, cloaked in shadows. Its eyes, glowing a malevolent red, were fixed on me. The whispers crescendoed into a cacophony, filling my mind with fear and confusion.
"Who are you?" I managed to choke out, my voice barely a whisper.
The figure didn't answer. Instead, it raised a hand, and the symbols on the walls began to glow with an eerie, pulsating light. The room seemed to close in around me, the walls contracting, the shadows deepening.
I tried to move, but my feet felt rooted to the spot. The figure stepped closer, its presence overwhelming. I could feel its breath, icy and unnatural, as it whispered directly into my mind.
"Kan…"
I woke with a start, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding in my chest. The room was dark and silent, but the sense of unease lingered. I glanced at the clock; it was just past midnight. I knew there was no going back to sleep after that nightmare.
Careful not to wake Sam, I slipped out of bed and quietly left the room. The hallways were deserted, the flickering lights casting long, unsettling shadows. I made my way to the library, hoping to find some solace in the familiar surroundings.
As I entered the library, I was struck by how different it felt at night. The usual warm, inviting atmosphere was replaced by a cold, eerie stillness. The rows of books seemed to stretch on endlessly, and the shadows between the shelves were impenetrable.
I found a secluded corner and sat down, trying to calm my racing heart. I opened one of the books we had been studying earlier, but the words seemed to swim before my eyes, and I couldn't focus.
Suddenly, I heard a noise—a soft, shuffling sound, like footsteps. I looked up, but the library appeared empty. My pulse quickened as the sound grew closer, accompanied by a faint whispering.
"Kan…"
I froze. The whisper was the same as in my dream. I stood up, my eyes scanning the darkened room. "Who's there?" I called out, my voice echoing in the silence.
There was no response, only the continued shuffling and whispering. I grabbed a flashlight from the table and turned it on, the beam cutting through the darkness. I moved slowly, cautiously, following the sound.
As I rounded a corner, the light fell on a figure standing at the end of the aisle. It was the same cloaked figure from my dream, its red eyes glowing ominously. I felt a surge of fear and took a step back.
"What do you want?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.
The figure didn't move or speak. Instead, it raised a hand, and the symbols on the walls began to glow once more, casting an eerie, pulsating light. The whispers grew louder, filling my head with a disorienting hum.
I stumbled backward, the flashlight slipping from my grasp and rolling away. The figure advanced, its presence overwhelming. I could feel the cold seeping into my bones, the oppressive weight of its gaze.
Desperation drove me to act. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small vial of salt—one of the basic tools we were taught to carry for protection against certain supernatural entities. I threw the salt at the figure, hoping it would have some effect.
There was a blinding flash of light, and the figure let out an inhuman screech. The symbols on the walls flickered and faded, and the oppressive atmosphere lifted. When the light subsided, the figure was gone.
I collapsed to the floor, trembling and gasping for breath. The library was silent once more, but the sense of dread lingered. I knew this wasn't over. Whatever that entity was, it was powerful and dangerous.
Gathering my strength, I retrieved the flashlight and made my way back to the dormitory. Sam was still asleep, blissfully unaware of what had happened. I sat on my bed, trying to process the encounter.
The dream, the whispers, the figure—it all pointed to something much darker and more sinister than we had faced before. I knew I had to tell Professor Ainsley about this, but for now, I needed to rest and gather my thoughts.
As I lay back down, the image of those glowing red eyes haunted me. The Academy was a place of learning and growth, but it was also a place of hidden dangers and secrets. And I had a feeling we were only scratching the surface of the mysteries that lay within its walls.