The sun was beginning its descent behind the horizon, casting a long shadow over the quiet streets as I glanced at my watch. I couldn't believe it—time had slipped away from me. It was already past 7:00 PM. The world around me seemed to move in slow motion, as though time itself was holding its breath.
"Lila," I said, standing up from the bench. "I have to go. I need to get home."
She looked up from the laptop screen, her face pale but determined. She nodded, understanding. "Yeah. We've learned a lot today. We'll have to pick this up tomorrow."
"Stay safe," I said, the words feeling strange in my mouth. There was something in the air tonight, something thick with tension that made it hard to breathe.
"I will," she replied quietly, watching me with a look that spoke volumes—a silent warning, perhaps, or a plea that echoed in her eyes.
I turned and walked away, trying to ignore the feeling that my heart had been hollowed out, leaving only cold dread in its place. Something didn't feel right. The atmosphere was heavy, like the calm before a storm. The night had the kind of stillness that makes you question everything you thought you knew.
I cut through the park, the darkness of the trees surrounding me, making me feel smaller with each step. The town's familiar streets had never felt so alien before. The houses on either side of me were silent, their lights dimmed for the night, but the silence seemed to have taken on a strange quality—one that pressed against my ears, one that drowned out even the sound of my footsteps.
It wasn't until I turned the corner onto my street that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I couldn't explain it, but I knew something had changed. It was as though the very air around me had shifted, thickened, becoming heavier with each step. My breath came quicker, and my pulse raced. I could feel it now, the weight of what was to come.
As I reached my front porch, I saw that the lights in the house were on, but the window by the door was obscured by shadows. A chill ran down my spine.
I fumbled with the keys, my hands shaking as I unlocked the door. It opened with a creak, the sound splitting the air like a warning. The house was eerily quiet. Too quiet.
"Hannah?" I called softly, my voice catching in my throat.
There was no answer.
My heart pounded as I stepped inside, the door shutting behind me with a soft thud. The house was dark except for the glow of the kitchen light spilling into the hallway. I slowly made my way toward the living room, where the shadows stretched unnaturally long, as though something was moving within them.
I froze as I saw it.
The shadow.
It was tall and wide, standing in the corner of the room where the light couldn't quite reach. It was no longer just a figure. It was alive—a formless, writhing thing, with a presence that stretched beyond the physical boundaries of the room. It was like a stain in the air, a darkness that seemed to bleed into the world itself.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I had seen shadows like this in the diary, in the entries where they had spoken of things that couldn't be explained. But seeing it now, feeling it in the pit of my stomach, was an entirely different experience. This wasn't a dream or a warning. This was real. And it was here.
"Hannah!" I called again, panic rising in my throat.
There was no response.
I darted to the stairs, my heart racing as I called her name, louder this time, my voice breaking. "Hannah!"
I reached the top of the stairs and glanced into her room. She wasn't there. My eyes quickly scanned the hallway. Then, I saw her—sitting by the window, her back turned to me, staring out into the darkening night. Her little figure seemed so small, so innocent in the dim light, but there was something wrong about her stillness.
"Hannah, come here!" I shouted, my voice harsh with urgency.
She didn't respond.
My heart pounded as I rushed to her side, my hand trembling as I touched her shoulder.
The moment my fingers brushed her skin, she snapped her head toward me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Ethan," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "It's here. It's here."
I froze, my stomach dropping.
Before I could react, the shadow in the corner of the living room shifted. It moved with a slow, deliberate pace, its form growing, stretching toward us like a predator closing in on its prey. I could feel it now, its presence suffocating, its power growing stronger the closer it came.
"Hannah, listen to me, we have to get out of here. Now!" I shouted, grabbing her hand.
But as I turned to pull her with me, the shadow was already upon us. It reached out with a tendril of darkness, curling around Hannah's body like a snake. Her scream echoed in my ears, high-pitched and full of terror, as she struggled against the force pulling her into the dark.
"No!" I yelled, gripping her tightly, trying to pull her away. But the shadow was too strong. It wrapped itself around her, dragging her away from me as if I were nothing more than a ghost. My fingers slipped from her hand, and I fell to my knees, helpless, watching as she was swallowed by the darkness.
"Hannah!" I screamed, my voice breaking. I couldn't let this happen. I couldn't lose her.
But it was too late.
The shadow twisted and coiled around her, and just like that, she was gone—vanished into the blackness, leaving only the lingering echo of her terrified scream.
I could feel the weight of it, the suffocating pressure of the darkness closing in. My chest tightened, and I could barely breathe. My mind reeled, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and horror. I had failed. I had promised to protect her, and now she was gone, taken by something I couldn't even comprehend.
I collapsed to the floor, tears blurring my vision. My hands shook as I reached out, but there was nothing left to grab onto. The house was silent now, the shadow vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind only the cold emptiness of its absence.
Then, I heard it. A voice.
"Ethan!"
I turned, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Lila standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. Her face was pale, and her hair was wild, like she had been running.
"What happened?" she asked, stepping into the room, her voice trembling with disbelief.
I couldn't speak. I couldn't explain what had just happened. I could barely process it myself.
Lila's eyes moved from me to the empty space where Hannah had been. She took a step back, her hand rising to her mouth in horror.
"Oh my God…" she whispered, the words coming out broken.
I couldn't stand the silence, couldn't bear the look of horror in Lila's eyes. I scrambled to my feet, my hands trembling as I tried to speak, tried to explain.
"I—Lila, it took her. The shadow—"
But she shook her head, her eyes wide with disbelief. "No, no, this can't be happening. This can't be real." She stepped forward, but as she did, her foot kicked something on the floor. I turned to see what it was.
It was a single black feather.
I recoiled, my stomach turning. The feather had no business being here. It was wrong. It shouldn't have been inside the house. But there it was, resting on the floor, its edges slick with some dark substance.
"Ethan," Lila whispered, her voice trembling. "What is happening? What are we dealing with?"
I didn't have an answer. My mind was still reeling, still trying to process the fact that Hannah was gone, that she had been taken by something beyond my understanding. There were no answers. There was only the cold, suffocating darkness that surrounded me, the shadow that had stolen my sister, and the growing feeling that it wasn't over—that this was only the beginning.
The house felt hollow, like a shell that had been abandoned. The walls, the furniture, everything was the same, but nothing felt right anymore. The air was thick, oppressive. It felt as though the darkness had seeped into every crevice, into every corner of this place that had once felt like home.
I turned to Lila, my face a mask of raw emotion. "I couldn't save her. I couldn't protect her, Lila. She's gone."
Lila reached out, her hand trembling as she placed it on my shoulder, trying to offer some comfort in the midst of this chaos. But there was nothing she could say. There was nothing anyone could say.
"We'll figure this out," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crushing weight of despair that pressed in on me. "We will. We'll find a way."
But I wasn't so sure.
And in the silence that followed, I couldn't shake the feeling that this disaster—this loss—was just the first of many more to come.
And the worst part? I had no idea how to stop it.
I stumbled up the stairs, my legs heavy, as though I were carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Each step felt like a chore, each breath like a battle I was losing. My mind was a blur—Hannah, the shadow, Lila's face, all crashing together in a chaotic wave that threatened to drown me. I didn't want to think, didn't want to feel, but it was all too much.
I reached my room, the door creaking as I pushed it open. The dim light from the street outside barely filtered through the curtains, casting long, twisted shadows on the walls. It was supposed to be a safe place, a sanctuary, but now it felt more like a tomb. I could still hear the echo of Hannah's scream in my ears, still see the empty space where she had been just moments ago.
I collapsed onto my bed, my body feeling numb, as if the world had slipped out of focus. The weight of everything was crushing, too much to bear. But I knew what I had to do. Even though I didn't want to, I couldn't ignore it. The diary. It had been with me through everything, each page telling me something I didn't want to hear.
I reached for it, the familiar leather cover cold against my fingertips. It felt heavier than ever now. The last entry I had read was haunting, but it didn't give me any answers. It just… left me empty. I opened the diary once again, praying for something—anything—that would help me make sense of all this madness.
My eyes fell on the next entry, the handwriting just as erratic, the ink darker than the night. I swallowed, the tightness in my throat making it hard to breathe as I began to read.
Diary Entry: November 15, 1994
You're searching for answers, but the truth is more terrifying than you could ever imagine. The things you're trying to fix were never meant to be fixed. They were always meant to happen, to play out in a way that will leave you feeling helpless, broken, as if the weight of the world is crushing you from all sides. You can't outrun what is chasing you, no matter how far you run or how fast you try to escape. It's already inside you, waiting.
You will come to realize soon enough that all of this is part of the same cycle, repeating itself over and over, no matter what you do. The events have already unfolded, and you will play your part in them, whether you want to or not. You'll see it in the faces around you, the people you trust—like Hannah, who will remain oblivious to what is inevitable. And when it's over, when there's no one left but you, you'll remember the words on these pages... and realize you never truly escaped.
End of Entry
I felt my heart drop into my stomach as the words sunk in. It was like a dagger in my chest, twisting painfully as if the diary itself was mocking me. The past, the future—it didn't matter. None of it mattered. The words on the page were a prophecy I couldn't escape, a fate already sealed, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Tears blurred my vision, and I slammed the diary shut, the sound echoing in the silence of my room. What was I supposed to do now? I had failed to protect Hannah. I had failed to stop the darkness, and now it was too late.
I buried my face in my hands, the weight of the loss suffocating me, drowning me in despair.