"Beep! Click." As the sound of the sensor lock released, Ethan pushed open his apartment door, stepping softly inside. He lived in an old building in the center of Sunnydale, unassuming on the outside but refined within. Bookshelves, antiques, and tasteful decor created a space frozen in a historical moment. It was both his sanctuary and a place where he hid his secrets.
Closing the door, he set a bag of simple groceries on the table, silently organizing his daily items. For someone who had lived a thousand years, such routines might seem pointless and mundane, but Ethan had grown accustomed, even dependent, on this daily rhythm. These habits provided him with a quiet balance, allowing him to maintain a lifestyle that seemed no different from that of an ordinary person, as far from his turbulent past as possible.
Soft light spilled over the table, illuminating the covers of his old books, their pages tinged yellow with age. When alone, these books were his only companions, filling the long solitude of his life. To outsiders, he was just an ordinary book lover, but Ethan knew these books served as more than a pastime—they were a way of honoring the years he'd left behind.
After putting the groceries away, he walked over to the stereo, pressing play. Low, soothing music filled the air, blending with the night, wrapping the room in a peaceful ambiance. Standing by the window, he gazed out over the lights of Sunnydale, a trace of melancholy in his eyes. He was aware of every small change in the city, having lived here for years. Every corner had become part of the background of his life, his hidden refuge.
Closing his eyes, he sank into the couch, seeking a moment of rest for both his body and mind. But the peace didn't last long.
"Ding-dong—" The doorbell rang, shattering the tranquility brought by the music.
With a sigh, Ethan glanced at the clock on the wall, unable to hide his exasperation. He walked to the door and heard two voices speaking softly on the other side. Recognizing one of them, he opened the door without a word.
Standing outside were Ray and Lily. Ray, dressed in a simple black jacket, looked at Ethan with an expression of mild exasperation, as if he'd been half-dragged here. Beside him was Lily, her long hair casually loose, wearing a leather jacket that matched her confident smile.
"Ethan, we're here!" Lily cheerfully announced, waving as she stepped inside with familiarity.
"It's late. What brings you by?" Ethan's tone was calm, but he stepped aside to let them in. He was used to his old neighbors' visits.
"Oh, come on! You're always so cold when we visit," Lily teased as she switched on a lamp beside the couch and casually picked up a book from the table. A photographer with an easygoing personality, she was endlessly curious about everything, especially anything steeped in history.
Ray followed, his voice calm as he said, "Just thought we'd stop by to check on you." Unlike Lily, Ray, an interior designer, was always composed, reserved in his words, and carried himself with quiet restraint.
Ethan shrugged, saying nothing more as he walked to the fridge and took out a few cold beers, placing them on the table. This type of late-night gathering had become a habit for them.
"See? I knew you'd have something ready for us!" Lily laughed as she opened a can, leaning back on the couch and chatting about the latest happenings in Sunnydale. Bold, with a slightly boyish charm, she was carefree and occasionally joked with those around her.
Ray opened his beer slowly, sipping thoughtfully. "Looks like they're doing more construction in the city center. I heard in the design circles it's supposed to be a new landmark building." His tone was calm and composed, contrasting sharply with Lily's straightforwardness.
Ethan watched them silently, his gaze drifting between them, though he didn't join the conversation. He knew that their concern for him was genuine, even if he struggled to express his feelings in return.
After a while, Lily mentioned, "Lately, there have been strange things happening around the city! People have reportedly seen shadowy figures drifting through alleys at night, and a few people have even gone missing—vanished without a trace."
Ray's expression grew serious. "Yeah, the rumors are spreading like wildfire. The missing people haven't been found yet, and it seems even the police are at a loss."
Listening, Ethan's gaze darkened. He didn't respond, though his eyes turned thoughtful. Lily noticed his silence and leaned over, raising an eyebrow. "Ethan, what do you think of these rumors? Do you think there's any truth to them?"
Ethan took a sip of his beer and said calmly, "There are always people who love rumors. Facts may differ." His tone carried a hint of detachment, as though unwilling to delve into the topic.
Sensing the shift, Lily changed the subject, turning to Ray. "By the way, didn't you mention meeting a streamer online? How's that going?"
Ray chuckled, taking a sip of his beer, and replied casually, "It's going well. She's interesting, genuine—doesn't put on a front. I like that about her."
"Interesting?" Lily's eyes lit up with playful curiosity. "It's rare to hear you call someone interesting! What's she like? Tell us more."
Ray smiled slightly. "Nothing special, really. She's pretty down-to-earth, enjoys chatting about everyday things with her audience—very natural."
"Uh-huh," Lily teased, her grin widening. "Sounds like you might like her a bit, hmm?"
Ray shook his head with a chuckle, a hint of lightness in his voice. "Like? I wouldn't say that. It's just comfortable talking with her. She's relaxed, genuine—no pretenses."
"Is that so?" Lily's eyes sparkled with amusement. "She must be someone special to get our stoic Ray to feel at ease." She looked at him meaningfully, as though searching for a clue.
Ray sighed, then turned to Ethan with a smile. "Look at her; doesn't she seem like she's caught a juicy piece of gossip?"
Ethan smiled slightly, responding in a calm tone, "It's her usual demeanor. Just ignore it."
"Oh, Ethan, you're so cold!" Lily feigned hurt, pressing a hand to her heart. "Isn't this just neighborly concern? And Ray, don't you want to spend more time with her?"
Ray took a sip of his beer and replied nonchalantly, "I'll take it one step at a time. Maybe we'll meet eventually, but there's no rush."
Lily nodded with a mischievous smile. "Fine, no rush. Just remember to invite us to meet her when the time comes—we want to see who's managed to get you so interested!" She laughed heartily, finishing off her beer.
Ethan listened quietly, sipping his own beer, his gaze cool and distant. Though gatherings like this were rare for him, the time spent with these two always brought a faint sense of normalcy to his life.
"Ethan," Lily turned to him, raising her eyebrows. "You should get out more, see what modern life has to offer! Don't you ever feel suffocated surrounded by all these old books and antiques?"
Ethan gave a small smile, answering calmly, "This peace suits me just fine. As for new sights, everyone has their own perspective."
Ray nodded in agreement. "Exactly. There's nothing wrong with finding peace in your own way."
Lily shook her head with a laugh. "Fine, fine, maybe I'm overthinking it. You two are such old souls! But if you ever want some excitement, call me—I'll show you a whole new world!"
They exchanged smiles, savoring the brief tranquility. The lights outside filtered in, adding a warmth to the old apartment.
When night deepened, Ethan saw Ray and Lily off, closing the door quietly. The apartment returned to its usual calm. He lingered by the door, a faint unease stirring within him, like a flickering candle in the wind. Such feelings were rare in his long life, but recently they had become strangely frequent, as though something was quietly approaching.
Returning to the living room, he reached for the empty beer cans but paused mid-movement.
A book on the table had somehow opened, its pages trembling slightly, as if stirred by an invisible breeze. Ethan frowned; there was no draft, no open windows.
"Interesting," he murmured, closing the book, but a cold chill lingered in his palm.
Suddenly, the lights flickered, casting irregular shadows. Scanning the room, he felt a growing sense of vigilance. These anomalies defied simple explanations, and Ethan suspected more than faulty wiring. For years, he had sensed the city's hidden undercurrents, content to watch from a distance. But now, something seemed to be shifting that delicate balance.
Ethan pressed a hidden panel, retrieving an ancient dagger etched with intricate patterns. He had carried this blade for centuries; it had protected him through countless crises, and holding it now rekindled a sense of readiness.
A faint noise outside caught his attention—a soft, scraping sound drifting up from below. He moved to the window, parting the curtain to peer down at the street.
A shadowy figure passed under the dim streetlamp, moving too swiftly to capture any clear shape. Narrowing his eyes, Ethan watched with curiosity. He didn't recognize the shadow, but his instincts warned him that it wasn't human.
"Interesting," he whispered.
Watching as the shadow vanished around a corner, he wondered why such a figure would roam so boldly in the night, seemingly near his home as if observing something.
Instead of chasing after it, Ethan continued to watch the empty street. As someone who had lived a millennium, he knew that the night concealed more than darkness—it hid secrets known only to a few.
"Who would be here at this hour…?" he murmured, setting the thought aside. It might be a stranger passing through or simply a coincidence. Yet, his intuition told him the shadow was anything but ordinary.
He turned away from the window, but the lights flickered again, dimming as if disturbed by an unseen force. An uneasy feeling returned as he reached for the dagger, the cold metal steadying his nerves.
Then, from the hallway outside, he heard faint footsteps, moving deliberately toward his door. The steps were light, almost calculated, like someone testing the silence.
The steps stopped outside his door, but there was no knock, no sound—only a heavy, oppressive quiet.
Ethan stood by the door, peering through the peephole. The hallway was empty, yet he sensed something lurking just beyond sight, a presence hovering outside.
Gripping the dagger, he waited in silence, his senses on alert. Moments later, the presence faded, and the footsteps receded, as though it had all been a mere illusion.
He exhaled slowly, but his guard remained up. He knew this encounter was only the beginning—tonight's shadow was just the first of what was to come.