Jay's pulse raced as the air in the room grew thicker, heavier. He could feel the presence closing in on him, an unseen force pushing him into the very corner of his apartment.
His body trembled, and his legs felt like they were slowly being anchored to the ground. His knees buckled beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor, unable to move.
The shadow moved closer. Jay's breath hitched, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to stand, to flee, but his body refused to obey.
His legs refused to lift, as if something—or someone—had a hold on him, keeping him rooted to the spot. The air around him became suffocating, and his head spun.
He could feel it now. The shadow wasn't just a figment of his imagination. It was real. It was here.
The figure came closer, materializing from the darkness like a predator stalking its prey. Its form was all black, like a void that swallowed light, its features indistinguishable except for the glowing red eyes—piercing, unnatural eyes that seemed to see straight through him.
Jay's breathing quickened as the figure's presence grew more overwhelming, as if it were standing just inches away, hovering over him.
The terror that gripped him was primal, raw, something deep within his bones telling him to run, to escape. But he couldn't.
The figure leaned in, its presence so close that Jay could feel the chill of its intangible form brushing against his skin. He gasped, his vision beginning to blur.
And then, as if it were never there, the figure disappeared, leaving Jay alone, trembling, his mind on the verge of collapse.
His body went limp, and the world went black.
Jay awoke with a start, his body jerking upright. His head ached, his heart still racing as he blinked, disoriented. He was back on the couch.
"What… What just happened?" he muttered, rubbing his temples.
He glanced around the room, his eyes darting toward the bathroom mirror. His reflection was the same. No shadow. No red eyes.
"Just a dream," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Wild… Just wild."
He laughed nervously, trying to convince himself. "It was just a nightmare. Nothing more."
But deep down, something told him that wasn't the case. That what he had just experienced wasn't some illusion. It had felt too real. Too... vivid.
The rest of the day passed without incident. The sky remained a dull gray, the air thick with an unsettling quiet.
It was the kind of day that made the weight of life feel even heavier. Jay went about his routine, barely noticing the world around him, his mind preoccupied with the strange, terrifying event from the night before.
But that evening, when he finished his shift at the convenience store and stepped out into the cold night air, the same unease crept back into his chest.
He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him.
It started small—just a sense of being followed, of eyes lurking in the shadows. Jay quickened his pace, trying to convince himself it was nothing.
Maybe it was just his nerves.
Maybe he was just imagining things.
But the feeling persisted, growing stronger as he neared his apartment building. He couldn't ignore it anymore.
When he reached his front door, he fumbled with his keys, his heart racing. He entered his apartment, slamming the door shut behind him, his back pressed to it as he tried to catch his breath.
He flicked the light switch, expecting the usual dim glow of his kitchen. But the light didn't come on.
"Huh," Jay muttered, flicking the switch again. "Must be a busted bulb."
He grabbed his coat and headed out once more, hoping to find a replacement at the local convenience store.
The small light shop was quiet when Jay walked in, the bell above the door ringing softly as he entered.
The shop was dim, the walls lined with various bulbs, wires, and tools.
Jay browsed the aisles quickly, grabbing a new lightbulb and heading for the counter.
But something caught his eye—a pair of figures standing in the corner of the store.
They were familiar.
No, it couldn't be.
He rubbed his eyes, convinced that he was just seeing things. But, they were—Victor and Alina.
The same two people who had knocked on his door earlier. Their silhouettes stood perfectly still, as though they were waiting for something.
Jay hesitated. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it or if they were really there. Maybe it was just a coincidence.
He shook his head and hurried to the counter, paying for the lightbulb and heading out the door. But as he stepped back onto the sidewalk, a sense of dread washed over him.
They were following him.
Jay glanced over his shoulder. Victor and Alina were a few paces behind him, moving in sync, almost as if they had been waiting for him.
His heart skipped a beat, and he quickened his pace. They were still there.
He ran faster, turning corners, trying to lose them in the winding streets. But every time he looked over his shoulder, they were there.
With a surge of adrenaline, Jay sprinted the final stretch to his apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it. His breath was ragged, his mind racing.
"They were following me," he muttered under his breath. "I'm not crazy. They were really following me."
Jay fixed the light in his apartment and flicked the switch again. The room illuminated with a soft glow, revealing the years of dust and clutter that had accumulated in the small space.
He stood there for a moment, taking in the mess. His grandfather's absence had left a strange emptiness in the apartment, and Jay had never bothered to keep things tidy.
But now, with the weight of everything pressing on him, he couldn't ignore the disarray any longer.
He began cleaning, moving things around, sweeping dust from the floor, wiping down surfaces.
As he pushed the couch aside, something caught his eye—a small, glossy card wedged beneath the cushions.
Jay picked it up, his breath catching in his throat. It was the same card from the previous day—the one Victor had handed him. The one with the single word: CRIB.
"This... this isn't a dream," Jay whispered, holding the card in his trembling hand.
His stomach twisted with the realization. Everything—his grandfather's strange death, the blackened eye, the eerie figure, Victor and Alina's visit—it was all connected.
Before he could process it further, a loud bang came from the door.
Jay froze, his body stiff with fear.
Another knock. Harder this time. More violent.
He stepped cautiously toward the door, his heart hammering in his chest.
"Who is it?" he called out, his voice shaky.
The knocking stopped.
A cold silence followed.
Jay's hand hovered over the doorknob, but just as he was about to turn it, the door swung open with a creak.
Standing in the doorway was a woman. Her face—twisted, contorted, and horribly deformed—was the stuff of nightmares.
Her skin was pale, almost sickly, and her eyes were hollow, sunken into her skull like dark, empty pits. A wide, unnaturally stretched grin pulled at her lips, revealing jagged, broken teeth that looked like they belonged to something far more monstrous than human.
Jay's blood ran cold as the woman took a slow step forward, her feet dragging, as though she were gliding across the floor. Her breath was ragged, each exhale coming out in a low, guttural hiss.
"You don't remember, do you?" she croaked, her voice rasping like a dying whisper, as if each word was dragged from the depths of some forgotten nightmare.
Jay wanted to scream, to run, but his body was paralyzed. The woman's hollow eyes locked with his, and it felt as if the world itself was closing in around him, suffocating him.
Then, without warning, the woman reached out, her bony fingers stretching toward his face.