Emily sat on her bed, curled up against the headboard, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Outside, morning had turned to afternoon, then evening, but she barely noticed the passage of time. Her phone lay untouched on the bedside table, a single message to her manager sent hours ago—"Not feeling well today"—her only connection to the outside world.
She hadn't been able to bring herself to step out, to face the city streets, or even the familiar faces at work. Her fingers still shook as she scrolled absently through her contacts, her vision blurring. A chill settled into her bones, a creeping sensation that no amount of blankets or sunlight seemed able to dispel. A fragment of last night's vision lingered in her mind, a spectre that loomed over every waking thought.
She could still feel it—the image of the woman in her bathroom, her pale skin wet with blood, her eyes wide and empty. Emily could recall every detail of that face, too close, too real, as if it had been something more than just a figment of her imagination. She had tried to shake it off, to convince herself that it was nothing more than a nightmare, but the memory clung to her like cobwebs in a dark corner.
Emily had barely eaten since waking up. She'd ignored her growling stomach, the reminder of her mortality feeling too close, too vivid. Her breaths came slow and shallow as if taking up too much space might make her visible to whatever was lurking beyond her door. Her apartment, usually a place of comfort, had become a prison, the shadows cast by her furniture contorting into menacing shapes as evening approached.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the images away, to convince herself that she was safe, that she was awake. But the fear lingered, a dull ache that sat in her chest and refused to leave. "It was just a dream," she whispered aloud, but her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears.
The minutes turned to hours, and she remained seated on her bed, the world beyond her room shrinking until it felt like she was the last person on earth. She could barely bring herself to move, as if any action might bring her nightmare to life. The memory of the woman's cold, wet hand on her shoulder made her shudder.
*Maybe I'll try to sleep,* she thought as if the rest could erase the images imprinted on her mind. Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she felt a strange reluctance to close her eyes. What if the nightmare came back? What if it hadn't been a dream at all? What if the woman—or something worse—was waiting for her on the other side of sleep?
But her body betrayed her. Exhaustion weighed her down, her head lolling against the wall. Her eyelids grew heavy, and despite her fear, she felt herself sinking deeper and deeper, slipping away from the waking world and into the darkness.
---
When Emily opened her eyes, she was no longer in her room.
She lay on a rough, cracked surface, a cold breeze brushing against her skin. Blinking, she sat up slowly, her head throbbing as she took in her surroundings. A street stretched out before her, wide and silent, the buildings on either side tall and unfamiliar, looming like spectres in the dim light. The air was thick, and heavy with a faint metallic scent that made her stomach turn.
Confused, she looked around, trying to make sense of where she was. The street was empty, eerily still, as if it had been abandoned for years. Her heartbeat quickened, a sense of foreboding settling over her as she got to her feet, brushing the dust from her hands. A low murmur reached her ears, barely audible at first, but growing louder with each passing second.
She turned, her eyes widening as she saw figures in the distance—people, running toward her, their faces twisted in terror. Her heart skipped a beat, a surge of panic rushing through her veins. They were looking behind them, glancing over their shoulders with horror-stricken expressions, as if something unimaginable was bearing down on them.
Before she could react, she heard it—a deep, rumbling sound that shook the ground beneath her feet, each step like a thunderclap that reverberated through the air. Her gaze followed theirs, and she felt her blood turn to ice.
A giant loomed in the distance, its massive form blocking out the sky. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, a nightmarish figure that towered over the buildings, its dark, featureless face casting a shadow over the entire street. Each of its footsteps left a crater in the ground, the impact sending shockwaves that rattled her bones.
Her instincts took over, and she turned, joining the fleeing crowd. The people around her were a blur, their panicked voices blending into a cacophony of terror as they ran for their lives. She pushed forward, her breath coming in gasps, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. She didn't dare look back, afraid that if she did, the giant would be upon her.
But she could hear it. The rhythmic thudding of its steps grew louder, closer, each one like a countdown to her own destruction. She stumbled, barely managing to stay on her feet, her eyes fixed on the path ahead. The houses and buildings blurred past her as she ran, her legs burning with the effort, every muscle in her body screaming for her to stop, to rest. But the sight of the giant's shadow stretching toward her banished any thought of slowing down.
Ahead, her house came into view, a familiar shape in the midst of the unfamiliar landscape. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she pushed herself harder, her mind filled with a single, desperate thought—*I have to get inside.*
She reached the door and threw it open, slamming it shut behind her with trembling hands. The sounds outside grew faint, muffled by the walls of her home, and she took a shaky breath, pressing her back against the door as she tried to calm her racing heart.
But even here, she didn't feel safe.
With quick, furtive movements, she made her way to the basement, her footsteps echoing through the silent house. She descended the narrow staircase, her hand trailing along the wall for support as she tried to steady herself. The basement was dark, damp, but it felt like a sanctuary compared to the chaos outside.
She sat down on the cold, concrete floor, her back against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest. The silence was oppressive, but it was better than the alternative. She could still hear the faint tremors from the giant's footsteps, each one a reminder of the nightmare that lay just beyond her door.
The hours passed slowly, each second stretching into eternity as she sat in the darkness, her mind racing. She didn't sleep; she didn't dare. The faint light that filtered through the small basement window shifted as the night wore on, casting long shadows that crept across the floor.
When the first rays of dawn broke through the window, she finally allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. The giant hadn't found her. She had survived.
---
But the peace was short-lived.