"You are not supposed to exist."
The words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Tara froze, her pen slipping from her hand and clattering against the polished wooden desk. The voice was low, almost guttural, carrying an eerie calmness that sent a chill racing down her spine.
She turned slowly, her breath hitching, to find the source of the voice. At first, there was nothing—just the familiar hum of her dimly lit office. Her colleagues were long gone; the only sounds were the occasional groan of the building settling and the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock.
But then she saw it.
At the edge of the room, near the towering bookshelf filled with outdated manuals and forgotten files, a figure emerged from the shadows. It wasn't entirely human. Its form flickered, indistinct, as though it was struggling to maintain its shape in this world.
Its eyes, however, were piercing—a glowing crimson that locked onto hers with predatory intensity.
"Who... who are you?" Tara's voice cracked as she instinctively reached for the paperweight on her desk, her heart pounding in her chest.
The figure tilted its head, almost curiously. "Who I am is irrelevant. What matters is who you are, Tara Vedant. The one who must not awaken."
The words struck her like a physical blow. How did this... creature know her name?
Her thoughts raced, memories of her strange dreams flashing before her eyes. The battles, the rituals, the black dog that always stood guard over her. She hadn't told anyone about them—not even Samira.
"Stay back!" she warned, clutching the paperweight like a weapon.
The creature laughed, a sound devoid of mirth. "And what will you do, mortal? Hurl that trinket at me? Your awakening has made you bold, but not wise."
Before she could react, a low growl echoed from behind her.
Tara spun around to see Kaelash, her scruffy black mutt, standing between her and the creature. His hackles were raised, his teeth bared, and his usually warm brown eyes glowed faintly, a golden hue flickering within them.
The creature hissed, recoiling slightly. "Ah, the vahan reveals itself. How quaint."
Kaelash growled louder, his body tensing as if preparing to lunge. Tara stared at him, her mind reeling. This wasn't her dog—not the gentle, lazy companion who spent his days napping in her apartment. This was something... else.
The creature's flickering form solidified slightly, its elongated limbs and twisted features becoming clearer. Its skin was pale, almost translucent, and it wore tattered remnants of a cloak that seemed to move independently, as though alive.
"You cannot protect her forever, vahan," the creature snarled. "The hunt has begun."
Before Kaelash could pounce, the creature dissolved into a cloud of black smoke, vanishing into the shadows as though it had never been there.
The room fell silent once more.
Tara staggered back, her legs trembling. "Kaelash... what... what just happened?"
The dog turned to her, his glowing eyes dimming back to their usual brown. He let out a soft whine, nudging her hand with his nose as if to reassure her. But Tara wasn't reassured. If anything, she was more terrified than ever.
She sat on the floor of her office, her back against the cold wall, trying to steady her breathing. Kaelash lay beside her, his presence strangely comforting despite the chaos in her mind.
This wasn't the first time something inexplicable had happened, but it was the first time it had felt so real, so immediate. She thought back to her colleague's bizarre outburst just days ago—the way his eyes had glazed over, his voice filled with venom as he called her a goddess.
Her hands trembled as she picked up her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. Who could she even call? Samira? No, her best friend would think she was losing her mind.
Arav Malhotra?
The thought came unbidden, but it lingered. She barely knew him—he was just a consultant working on the company's latest project. Yet there was something about him, a quiet confidence that made her think he might actually listen without judgment.
Before she could decide, Kaelash let out a low, rumbling bark, drawing her attention.
"What is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The dog stood, his ears perked, his gaze fixed on the office door.
Tara's heart sank. She couldn't hear anything, but if tonight had taught her anything, it was to trust Kaelash's instincts.
Gathering her courage, she grabbed her bag and edged toward the door, Kaelash at her side. She hesitated for a moment before pulling it open.
The corridor was empty, the fluorescent lights flickering ominously.
"Let's go home," she muttered, her voice shaking.
As she hurried down the hallway, she couldn't shake the feeling that the shadows were watching her, waiting for the right moment to strike.
And for the first time in her life, she wondered if her dreams weren't dreams at all.