Joy sit on her living room floor, different type of historys and supernaturals books spread open before her.
The black ink scrawl across the page she is reading "See you soon" gleaming faintly in the dim light of her table lamp. Her breath hitch as she stared at the words, the tremor in her hands growing worse.
This can't be real, she thought, trying to convince herself. Someone must've planted the book here while I was…
Her thoughts trail off. While she was where? In the library? In the dark?
The memory of the void-like face flashed through her mind, sending a cold shiver down her spine.
She shake her head violently, trying to dispel the image, but it clung to her like cobwebs she couldn't brush away.
The phone buzzes.
This time, Joy hesitate. She didn't want to look at the screen. She didn't want to see whatever horror, taunting message await her. But the sharp vibration seem to fill the room, growing louder with every second until she couldn't ignore it anymore.
With trembling fingers, she pick up the phone and glance at the screen.
"Check the window."
Her stomach drops. The message is from the same unknown number.
She stare at the text, her mind racing. No. She can't fall for it. Whatever this is...whoever this is....they want her scared. And she isn't going to play their game.
But the shadows in the corners of her apartment seems to swell, pressing closer with each passing moment. The room grow colder, the air heavy with something she couldn't name.
Against her better judgment, she turn her head slowly toward the window.
The curtains was drawn, the fabric shifting slightly as if disturbed by a breeze. But the window was closed. There was no wind.
Joy's heart racing. The shadows around the edges of the curtain seemed darker, deeper, like they were pooling together.
Get a grip, she told herself, clenching her fists. It's just your imagination.
But then the curtain move again, this time more forcefully, as if something is pressing against it from the other side.
Joy scramble to her feet, backing away until her spine hit the wall.
The book lay forgotten on the floor, its pages rustling as if stirrer by an unseen hand.
"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The room answer with silence.
She edger closer to the table, her eyes lock on the window. Slowly, she reach for the lamp, hoping the light would chase away the shadows creeping into her mind.
The moment her fingers brush the switch, the bulb flickers and die, plunging the apartment into darkness.
"No," she whisper, her voice cracking. She fumble with the switch, flipping it on and off, but the lamp stay dark.
The room feels alive now, every creak and groan of the apartment amplifies.
Her phone buzz again, the sudden noise making her jump. She glance down at the screen, its faint glow casting a shadows across her face.
"Too late."
The words send a bolt of icy fear through her chest.
A soft tapping sound come from the window.
Joy's breath catch in her throat. The tapping grow louder, more insistent, like fingernails raking against the glass.
She force herself to move, inching closer to the window despite every her instinct screaming at her to run.
Her phone buzz once more.
"Don't look."
But she was already there, her hand reaching for the edge of the curtain.
The tapping stopped.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Joy hesitate, her fingers hovering just inches from the fabric. She take a deep breath and yank the curtain aside.
The window is empty.
Relief flood over her, but it was short-live. As she stare at her own pale reflection in the glass, something move behind her.
Her blood turn to ice. The shadow is tall, impossibly thin, its head cock at the same unnatural angle she'd seen in the library.
Joy spin around, but the room is empty.
Her phone buzz again.
This time, the message is different.
"Look closer."
She stare at the screen, the words blurring as panic overtook her. Look closer at what?
The sound of breathing fill the room soft at first, then louder, ragged and guttural. It is coming from everywhere and nowhere.
Joy clutches her phone, its faint glow her only source of comfort.
"Leave me alone," she whisper, tears streaming down her face.
The breathing stop.
For a moment, the silence is deafening.
Then, the book on the floor begin to move.
Joy's eyes wide as the crack leather cover tremble, the pages flipping on their own. A low, guttural whisper emanated from it, the words unintelligible but fill with malice.
The symbol from the library appear again, draw in fresh, glistening ink. This time, the caption beneath it had changed:
"The Watcher has claimed you."
"No," Joy gasped, backing away. "No, this isn't real. This isn't"
The words die in her throat as the shadows around her seem to converge, swirling together in a vortex of darkness.
From the center of the maelstrom, the figure emerge. Its limbs twist unnaturally, its void-like face pulling at the edges of reality.
Joy scream, scrambling backward until her back hit the wall.
The figure stretch one impossibly long arm toward her, its fingers ending in jagger claws.
"Stay away!" she shriek, her voice raw with terror.
But the figure didn't stop. It loom closer, the darkness around it suffocating.
Joy's phone buzz again, the vibration rattling against the floor.
With shaking hands, she grab it, hoping for some kind of help, some kind of explanation.
The message on the screen is simple:
"Run."
She didn't need to be told twice.
Clutching the phone, she bolt for the door. Her legs feel like lead, the air around her thick and unyielding. She reach for the handle, yanking it with all her strength.
But the door didn't budge.
"No!" she scream, pounding on the wood. "Please, someone help me!"
The room grow colder, the shadows pressing in closer. The figure is behind her now, she can feel its presence, a weight that threaten to crush her.
Her phone buzz again.
This time, the message read:
"It's too late to run."
Joy turn, her back pressed against the door.
The figure stand just inches away, its void-like face drawing her in, pulling at the edges of her mind.
"You belong to us," it whisper, its voice like shatter glass.
The world around her begin to blur, the edges of her vision darkening. The figure reach out, its claw hand brushing against her cheek.
Pain seare through her, a burning cold that sink deep into her bones.
Joy scream, the sound echoing into the void as the darkness swallow her whole.
When Joy open her eyes, she's lying in her bed. The morning light stream through the window, warm and gentle.
For a moment, she thought it had all been a nightmare. But then she see it.
The book lay on her nightstand, its crack leather cover pristine, as if it had never been touched.
On the first page is written in familiar, chicken handwriting, were the words:
"You can't escape."
Joy's phone buzz.
She pick it up with trembling hands, dreading at what she might see.
The message is from an unknown number:
"Welcome home."