It was the same voice as before, distant yet disturbingly close, echoing in her mind.
Shadow growled low, his stance tense as he stood between her and the corner. His golden eyes glinted in the dim light, sharp and protective.
Lena swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Who's there?" she whispered, though she wasn't sure she wanted an answer.
The shadows seemed to pulse for a moment, then stilled. The voice didn't speak again.
Shadow stepped closer to her, his body tense and his ears pinned back, the glow in his golden eyes intensifying. He was no ordinary dog, of that she was certain now, but there was no time to process what that truly meant.
"Who's there?" Lena whispered, her voice shaking.
The shadows didn't respond, but they seemed to pulse slightly, as though retreating deeper into the room. The silence that followed was suffocating.
Lena's trembling hand fumbled for the light switch near the door. Her fingers grazed the wall, searching, until she found it and flicked it on. The overhead bulb buzzed to life, casting a warm glow over the room.
Everything looked normal.
The corner where the whisper had come from was just that—a corner. An old chair, a stack of books she'd meant to organize, and nothing more.
She let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair. "What… What is happening to me?"
Shadow padded over to her, his expression unreadable but his presence grounding. He nuzzled her leg gently, his soft fur a stark contrast to the icy fear still gripping her.
"I'm losing my mind," she muttered, sinking onto the couch. She pulled Shadow up beside her, needing the comfort his closeness provided.
As Lena sat with Shadow, stroking his fur absentmindedly, she began to feel something odd. It wasn't just the warmth of his body or the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing—there was something deeper, an unspoken connection that pulsed between them.
Her fingers stilled on his back as a strange sensation washed over her. It was faint, like the hum of distant electricity, but it was there.
"Shadow," she said softly, looking into his eyes. "What are you?"
The dog stared back at her, his gaze piercing and almost human-like in its intensity. It was as if he understood her question, but of course, that was impossible.
Yet, the longer she looked at him, the less certain she became of what was impossible.
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, but Lena couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Every creak of the old house, every flicker of light from the street outside, sent her heart racing.
Shadow stayed close, never leaving her side. He seemed alert, his ears twitching at sounds she couldn't hear.
By the time she went to bed, she was exhausted but too on edge to sleep. She left the bedroom door slightly ajar, allowing Shadow to curl up just inside. The soft sound of his breathing was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Lena was drifting between sleep and wakefulness when the whisper returned.
"Lena… run…"
Her eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright in bed. The voice was louder this time, closer, and filled with urgency. Her heart pounded as she scanned the room, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
The faint glow of the moon through the window illuminated her bedroom, and everything seemed untouched. But the voice—it had been so clear.
"Shadow?" she called, her voice trembling.
The dog was already awake, standing at the doorway, his hackles raised and his growl low and menacing. His glowing eyes were fixed on the hallway beyond, where darkness seemed to stretch unnaturally.
Lena slid out of bed, her legs shaky as she moved toward Shadow. She placed a hand on his back, and he stiffened but didn't look away from whatever he saw—or sensed—in the hallway.
"What is it?" she whispered.
Before she could get an answer, a loud bang echoed through the house, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps.
They were not alone.