Selena lay sprawled across her plush bed, utterly drained from the whirlwind of events that had unfolded. Every muscle in her body ached, and her mind was clouded with thoughts she wished she could shove aside. She let out a long, weary sigh, longing for just a moment of peace, when suddenly, she heard a faint voice.
"Hello?"
Her eyes snapped open, wide with alarm. What was that sound? Her breath caught in her throat as her heart began to pound. Selena froze, straining her ears for any further noise. Perhaps she had imagined it. Surely, it was just the aftermath of the stressful day playing tricks on her.
But then, it came again.
"Lenaa... I'm stuck! Helppp!"
This time, the voice was clearer, though faint and laced with desperation. Selena bolted upright, her head darting around the dimly lit room. She couldn't see anyone.
The windows were closed, the door shut tight, and she was certain she had locked it herself. Where was this voice coming from?
Her hands clutched the edges of her blanket as if it could shield her from the unexplainable. "Who's there?" she demanded, her voice shaking. When no immediate answer came, she shook her head and muttered to herself, "I'm losing it. Too much stress…"
Still, a part of her couldn't shake the strange, eerie feeling that crawled up her spine. What if she wasn't imagining things?
She closed her eyes, determined to push aside the ridiculous notion of hearing voices, and lay back down.
"It's just exhaustion," she whispered. "Nothing more."
But then the voice came again, faint but persistent. "Heelpp~"
Selena's eyes snapped open once more. This time, the voice sounded weaker, almost pitiful. There was something about its tone that made her heart twist. It sounded so wary, so tired as if whoever it belonged to had been calling for help for ages.
"Nope. Definitely losing it," Selena muttered under her breath. She sat up, shaking her head as if she could jostle the delusions away. "I just need to sleep. That's all. Rest will fix this."
Yet despite her reasoning, her body refused to relax. Instead, she found herself standing, her bare feet padding softly against the carpet as she glanced nervously around the room.
"Just to be sure," she mumbled to herself. "I'm not paranoid. No, I'm not."
The voice called out again, faint but unmistakable. "Lenaa… I'm hungry…"
Selena froze. Her skin prickled with unease. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't her imagination. She could feel it now—a faint pull, a presence emanating from somewhere in the room.
She turned slowly, her gaze landing on the bookshelf. Her breath hitched. The voice... it was coming from there.
With hesitant steps, she approached the bookshelf. The air around it felt colder, heavier as if the room itself was holding its breath. Her hand trembled as she reached out, brushing her fingers against the spines of the books.
The voice spoke again, quieter this time, almost inaudible. "Please... I'm hungry..."
She felt like... It was coming from the diary that old Selena kept. The diary that she opened and found absolutely incoherent writing.
But now it seemed to hum under her touch, its energy palpable.
Selena's instincts screamed at her to leave it alone, to walk away and pretend she had never heard anything. But the voice—it sounded so pitiful. So helpless.
Her hands shook as she pulled the diary from the shelf. The room felt colder still, the air thick with an unnameable tension. Selena stared at the diary, its leather cover worn and cracked, its edges frayed. She had no memory of the old Selena ever writing in it, yet it seemed alive in her hands.
"Who... Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The diary didn't answer. Instead, it vibrated lightly in her hands, the energy within it pulsing faintly. Selena hesitated, then flipped it open.
Selena stared at the diary in her hands, her heart thundering in her chest. She had braced herself for something ominous to happen—a burst of smoke, a chilling wail, anything that screamed dark magic. What she didn't expect was for the book to glow faintly and ripple, as if the pages themselves were liquid.
Before she could make sense of it, a dark blur leapt out of the diary. Selena stumbled back, barely managing to hold in a scream. The blur landed gracefully on the floor, and Selena froze as the creature revealed itself.
A cat.
A small, sleek black cat with piercing golden eyes now sat in the middle of her room. It looked up at her with an air of calm detachment, as though jumping out of a magical diary was the most natural thing in the world. Its fur gleamed in the dim light, and its tail swished lazily from side to side.
Selena's initial fear gave way to utter confusion. "What in the..."
The cat tilted its head at her, then lifted a paw and licked it delicately.
"Hungry," it said, its voice clear and smooth, cutting through the silence.
Selena gawked at the feline, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. It spoke. The cat spoke.
"What are you?!" she finally managed to stammer. "How did you—what—how did you come out of that?" She pointed at the diary lying discarded on the floor.
The cat stopped grooming itself and fixed her with an unimpressed look. "You don't remember me?" it asked, sounding more insulted than surprised.
Selena blinked. "Remember you? I—wait, what?"
The cat sighed dramatically, its small body heaving as it padded over to her. "Lenaa, I told you I was stuck. You're the one who let me out. And now I'm starving."
"Stop calling me Lenaa!" she snapped, frustration overriding her initial shock. "My name is Selena. And who are you?" A cat lept out of a damn diary! What was happening?!
The cat looked up at her, blinking slowly. "I'm your familiar, of course. You created me, after all."