Ana's scream of terror could have awakened any living being within a kilometer.
She bolted upright in bed, her eyes wide open, gaze lost in the darkness gathered in the corner of the room. She felt that running was a terrible idea—whatever it was, it would catch her for sure. The only thing left was to stay put and pray to the heavens, the universe, and fate itself that it had just been her imagination.
The large window next to the darkest corner of the room displayed a full moon, with drifting clouds cutting through the sky at unsettling speeds.
Off to the side, the shadows began devouring more and more of the room until they were noticeably deeper and broader than before. When Ana, horrified and desperate to make sure it hadn't been just her imagination, let out a second, even louder scream, the voice spoke again.
—Hey! Hey, stop yelling already. You'll wake someone up. There's nothing to fear.
—What are you?! Please don't hurt me! I swear I'll leave tomorrow by noon! -Ana begged, recalling the old lady's warning.
—Relax. Like I said, there's no need to leave. (A pause.) And thank you for answering me...
Ana covered her mouth with both hands, eyes widening again in horror. What had she done? She had to get out of there—whatever it took. She began crawling backward across the bed, keeping her eyes on the darkness, until she fell to the floor.
—Come on, you really need to calm down. I won't harm you.
The whispers in the dark grew clearer. That gravelly, unearthly voice gradually morphed into a distinct masculine tone.
Ana remained on the floor, paralyzed with fear, the sheets in disarray. She might have fled, tumbling down the stairs in blind panic, had she not been in total shock. None of the soothing words spoken from the shadows did anything to ease her.
Less than a minute passed, though to Ana it felt like five seconds—or maybe fifteen minutes. She was completely entranced.
The darkness began peeling off the wall like a mist of shadows forming in the middle of the room.
—Look, I'm coming out, okay? But you have to promise me you won't scream or run, alright?
Ana couldn't move, much less speak. Her gaze remained locked on the swirling black fog floating in her room.
—Please, I really need you to say you're okay with this... I won't hurt you.
In any sane scenario, if Ana had witnessed such a moment from the outside, she'd have been certain that one should never agree to anything a floating shadow asked. But her mind was utterly disconnected.
—O-Okay...
She stuttered, her voice trembling, eyes unblinking for what felt like five full minutes. The creeping sensation that she had made a huge mistake was slowly taking over her thoughts—but it was already too late for regrets.
The darkness began to compress, shrinking in size. Then it expanded again, larger than before, and a humanoid figure emerged from within. At first, it appeared as a black silhouette, waving its arms as if trying to part the fog. Then its outline sharpened into a distinctly human form, and finally, in the blink of an eye, color filled every detail.
It was a man. Tall—nearly six-foot-three. His skin was ghostly pale, like someone who had never seen daylight, and his hair was longer than usual for a man, a nearly white shade of blond. His features were unnaturally perfect—well-groomed eyebrows, a slightly upturned nose, and a chiseled jawline that was both symmetrical and masculine.
He wore a black tunic with a high collar, obscuring everything below his chin. The garment was adorned with strange red and white symbols Ana had never seen before, despite her passion for history and symbolism. The only one she recognized was the Valknut—an ancient Norse protection charm.
But what stood out the most about this being wasn't his striking appearance—it was his deep red eyes, which bore straight into Ana's soul.
Of course, her third scream didn't take long to follow. The man stepped toward her, trying to calm her down. He crouched at her side and gently placed a finger over her lips.
—Shh... There's no need to worry. I promise, I won't hurt you.
For the first time, Ana listened and fell silent. Wordless, she began to weep from fear, her eyes still fixed on the figure before her.
—Are you crying now? -the man asked, clearly frustrated- For heaven's sake, it's been centuries since someone threw such a tantrum.
—S-Sorry... -she replied between sobs.
—Wait, what? No—don't apologize. I'm the one who's barged into your home. Your reaction is completely understandable. Just... breathe, alright?
Ana nodded faintly. She feared that not complying might trigger something worse. The man straightened and extended a hand to help her up.
—Allow me to introduce myself -he said, with elegance- My name is Norell Dahl, from the lands of the North. And your name, fair lady?
Ana was speechless. The ease with which he introduced himself—as if he hadn't just materialized from a black cloud in the middle of her room—left her stunned.
—Wh-Who are you? -she managed to whisper, a fresh tear rolling down her cheek- What do you want?
The man sighed, weary.
—I've been hearing that same question for over a thousand years. I'm rather tired of it. Isn't my name and origin enough?
—Sorry, but your 'name and origin' don't tell me anything. Do I look like an encyclopedia? -she snapped.
Norell blinked and widened his eyes in surprise. Moments ago, she could barely breathe—and now she was scolding him. No one had ever dared do that, especially not upon their first meeting.
Ana began to worry that her big mouth might get her killed.
—I-I didn't mean to offend you -she added quickly- It's just that I expected something a little more... revealing, you know? It's my first night here and I didn't realize—
The man burst out laughing. Ana figured it best to shut up.
—Well, this is the first time I've had to explain myself to anyone. Ha! Ha!
—And you should, don't you think? -Ana replied, her fiery nature emerging. The fear, the tension since arriving, her rude neighbors, the hunger, and lack of sleep—all added up to a breaking point- You show up here like it's your house, scare me with your shadow tricks, sneak into a woman's bedroom at three in the morning, and you're shocked I demand an explanation? How else should I react?
Somewhere in her mind, Ana had accepted her fate—this might be her last night alive. She wasn't sure. Standing before her was a supernatural creature, its strange smile reaching from its eyes to its lips. What terrible timing.
—I think I'm about to die again -he said dryly- This time, from how cute you are.
Norell held her gaze with a gentle smile. Then his expression turned grave and solemn. He stepped back three paces, and the darkness surged around his feet, forming a circle of thick mist that rose to his knees.
—They may call me Norell Dahl! -he declared- From the harshest tundras, where the cold freezes your blood!
His voice thundered with such force that the pictures and ornaments in the room rattled violently.
—Lord of wolves! Will of the moon!
His tunic split down the back, and two massive bat-like wings unfurled, each nearly seven feet wide, scattering mist throughout the room.
—The fallen angel!
Then his voice softened. The mist faded, the wings retracted, and he stared at Ana, whose heart was pounding so hard she feared it might burst.
Her vision began to blur, the scene slowing like a film in slow motion. She caught a few words as the creature rushed toward her—
Then everything went black.
She passed out.
Or woke up.
It was seven in the morning, and the sunlight streamed forcefully through the bedroom window. But it wasn't the morning brightness that woke her.
It was the violent pounding echoing through the house.
It came from the front door.
Dizzy, Ana got to her feet as best she could. Her memory of the night before was hazy. At one point, she remembered staring at the ceiling beams until sleep overtook her. Then, a darkness in the corner. Then—maybe—a shadowy figure talking to her. Nothing more.
Cautiously, she made her way to the front of the house. Every ten seconds, three heavy knocks echoed through the walls.
Each slam startled her anew. She grabbed a small iron shovel from beside the fireplace and continued forward.
As memories returned, so did her dread.
—Who's there?! -Ana shouted when she was about five meters from the door.
No reply.
Again, three loud knocks shook the wood. "Dear God," she muttered, raising the shovel like a weapon.
—I said, who's there?! -she cried out again, gripping the doorknob.
No answer.
This time, there were no more knocks. But Ana couldn't stand the suspense. She inhaled deeply, summoned her courage, and flung the door open, shovel raised like she was going into battle.
—Miss! -said a burly man standing on her porch- I was about to leave. I thought no one was home... Is that the fireplace shovel?
The sight from outside must've looked ridiculous—a young woman in disheveled pajamas, wild hair, opening the door like a warrior.
Ana stood frozen for a few seconds, eyes wide, analyzing the scene. When logic returned, she quickly lowered her "weapon" and tried to smooth her hair.
—Leon... what are you doing here so early? -It was sunny, but clouds covered most of the sky, and the wind still carried the morning chill- And knocking like that?
—Sorry, miss. The agency told me to come right away, and they insisted so much I thought it was urgent -he explained- I figured you were just asleep—sorry to intrude.
—No, not at all. It's just... the whole situation is strange. The knocking made me think...
She stopped.
Maybe she was saying too much. Leon listened intently, but perhaps it wasn't the time to talk about her dream.
—Nothing. It doesn't matter. This neighborhood is a bit... peculiar, you know?
Leon's friendly face lit up, eyes squinting as he adjusted his cap.
—Oh, absolutely! I completely understand. I've been here many times to fix pipes or reconnect hanging wires, and I always meet strange folks.
They paused.
Memories of the previous night were beginning to piece together. Ana recalled a corner of her room, a shadow forming from mist swirling everywhere.
Leon noticed her far-off gaze. She seemed deep in thought, detached from their conversation.
He broke the silence.
—They said you've got electrical issues here—is that right? -he asked politely.
Ana snapped out of it. Her body trembled from the cold wind, but her mind was elsewhere. She had the feeling Leon might help solve the mystery.
—Yes, absolutely! Please, come in.
She stepped aside. Leon entered the living room with a polite tip of his hat.
They headed to a small basement where the main fuse box was located. Leon pulled out tools and sensors, though he didn't need them—he identified the problem the moment he shone his flashlight.
—No power's coming in. The issue must be in the external wiring. Maybe a rodent chewed through it -he explained while packing up.
Leon kept chatting about the weather and his job, but Ana couldn't stop thinking about what the lady across the street had said:
"That damn witch must have cut your power."
Leon quickly found the fault. It was shocking, to say the least.
The high-voltage cables meant to connect to the main transformer had been cleanly severed and tossed into the tall grass in the yard.
—Strange. This wasn't done by any rodent... -the young man muttered, inspecting the wires.
—Hey, Leon -Ana said, arms crossed, locking eyes with him. He stood upright- Do you know anything about a 'witch' around here?
Leon's friendly expression faded into something distant and somber, a quiet melancholy darkening his eyes. A heavy silence fell.
This time, Ana understood it.
—They say there's not just one... -he finally said, lowering his gaze.
END OF CHAPTER 3