Destini couldn't shake the image of the painting from her mind. Gabriel—no, it wasn't just Gabriel. It was something older, something not of this world.
But what unsettled her even more was the way he had looked at her in that moment. Not just angry—something deeper, like he was fighting himself.
Still, the encounter didn't scare her off. If anything, it fueled her curiosity. There was something about the building itself, as if it was alive. The whispers she heard at night, the strange cold spots in the hallway, the odd way the elevator sometimes skipped floors—all of it pointed to secrets buried within its walls.
And she was determined to uncover them.
That night, unable to sleep, Destini grabbed a flashlight and crept out of her apartment. She had no clear plan, just a burning need to understand what was happening.
She started with the lower floors, wandering through corridors that felt oddly still, almost abandoned. As she walked, she noticed something strange—doors that looked newer than the rest of the building, their numbers faded as if they didn't belong.
The whispers started softly, barely audible.
At first, she thought it was her imagination, but as she moved closer to one of the doors, the sound grew louder.
"…leave… shouldn't be here…"
Her heart raced, but she forced herself to stay calm. She pressed her ear to the door, her breath catching when she heard it clearly: a woman's voice, soft and pleading.
"Help me… he won't let me go…"
Destini pulled back, her hands trembling.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
The voice fell silent.
Suddenly, the hallway grew colder, and a shadow passed just at the edge of her vision. She spun around, her flashlight trembling in her hand.
"Hello?"
No response.
But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw it—a figure standing at the end of the hall, shrouded in darkness.
It was a woman, her face pale and gaunt, her eyes hollow. She pointed a finger at Destini, her voice echoing in the empty space.
"Get out before it's too late."