The air in the room felt thick, like it was closing in on me. I moved toward the window, staring out at the quiet night beyond. I couldn't explain it—I just needed to breathe. I turned to Alex, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just need some fresh air… so I can breathe again."
He was by the door, setting his weapons down, but when he heard me, he immediately stepped in my path. His eyes locked onto mine, his expression hardening. "Anna, no. Not at night. You can't just walk out there."
I raised my brow. "Why not?"
"Because danger comes out at night in Ash Sentinel," he said, his tone low but stern. "There are things out there—people, creatures—that won't care who you are. And you might get lost. This place isn't safe after dark."
I let out a slow breath, frustrated but trying not to show it. "I won't go far."
He studied me for a long moment before sighing, brushing a hand through his dark hair. "If you really need fresh air, then… by all means, go. But be careful." His voice dropped, softer now. "This place isn't your world. If anything happened to you…"
He stepped aside and opened the door slightly, letting the cool night breeze drift in. "Just promise me—don't stray too far."
The moment Alex stepped aside, I gave him a small nod and slipped out through the door. The hallway was dim and quiet, shadows stretching along the stone walls. I took a right, then a left, winding through the narrow paths of the underground stronghold until I reached the center of Ash Sentinel.
It was oddly peaceful here, despite the tension Alex warned me about. I moved quietly through the heart of the compound, careful not to draw attention. My chest still felt tight, but I was determined to reach the surface—just to get one breath of unfiltered air.
Eventually, I found a narrow exit tunnel. The cool night breeze hit my face as I stepped outside. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes as the pressure in my chest finally eased. I didn't realize how badly I needed it until now.
To my right, the soft glow of a cigarette tip caught my eye. The female leader of the Ash Sentinels stood just beyond the entrance, one arm folded across her chest, the other holding the cigarette loosely between her fingers. Smoke curled around her like mist as she scanned the darkness beyond the trees, still and alert.
She didn't look surprised to see me.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, her voice low and sharp, like she already knew the answer.
"Just needed to breathe," I replied, tucking my arms around myself.
She took a slow drag and exhaled before speaking again. "This forest... it listens. And it remembers. If it doesn't recognize you, it might try to make you disappear."
I stiffened slightly, unsure if she was exaggerating.
She looked at me then, her eyes like cut glass. "Never walk the outer edge alone, not without someone who knows the signs. The trees out here shift. And there are worse things than shadows."
I swallowed. "Then why are you out here?"
She cracked a small, grim smile. "Because I know what to look for—and I'm not afraid to face it."
Then she nodded toward the entrance behind me. "Get what you need, girl. But don't linger. And next time, bring a blade—or better yet, bring Alex."
I glanced at the treeline, then back at her. Something in her tone told me she wasn't just trying to scare me—she meant every word.
"I didn't realize… it was that dangerous," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "But you—" I studied her for a moment. "You don't seem afraid of anything. Have you always been like that?"
She took another drag from her cigarette, her eyes never leaving the forest. "Fear doesn't disappear. You just learn to keep it in your pocket instead of your throat."
I stepped a little closer, curious despite the weight of her words. "You said the forest listens... What exactly does that mean? What kind of things are out there?"
She gave me a long look, then flicked the ash from her cigarette.
"There are spirits older than our bones. Things that crawl between time and shadow. Some used to be human—some never were. They feed off fear, confusion... blood. If you hear your name spoken by something you can't see—run. Don't answer. Don't look back."
My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't expected her to answer like that.
"And what about you?" I asked, a bit more softly. "Why are you really out here watching the woods?"
A long silence stretched between us, the smoke from her cigarette curling into the night.
"Because I made a deal once," she said finally, almost too quiet to hear. "And part of keeping it means making sure others don't wander into the mouth of something they can't fight."
I looked at her differently then—not just as the leader of a hidden rebel group, but as someone carrying more than she let on.
"I'll go back inside," I murmured. "But... thank you. For the warning."
She gave a single nod. "Get some rest, Anna. You'll need it."
I turned back toward the entrance, her warning echoing in my mind with every step I took. The night air had shifted—cooler, but heavier, like something unseen pressing in around me. I followed the same path—right, then left—but everything felt... wrong. The torches flickered low, their flames guttering as if resisting some unseen presence.
I quickened my pace.
As I neared what should've been the central passage of the stronghold, the air grew icy. A strange silence settled over the stone walls—no voices, no movement, just the distant sound of dripping water. I slowed, instincts prickling. The corridors that had once felt like protection now felt like a trap.
Then I saw it.
At the far end of the hall, a figure—tall, skeletal, cloaked in black mist—moved without sound. Its face was hollow, eyes glowing a dull, eerie white as it drifted along the corridor. Behind it, the stone walls darkened, as though its very presence leeched the life from the air. Shadows twisted unnaturally along the floor and ceiling, writhing like snakes.
It hadn't seen me. Not yet.
I ducked behind a pillar, barely daring to breathe. The temperature dropped further, frost beginning to form along the stone near my feet. My breath came in white clouds.
From around the corner, I heard footsteps—soft but quick. One of the Ash Sentinel scouts came running through, holding a short blade.
The figure turned.
The man didn't even have time to scream. The creature moved in a blur, mist pouring from its body as it engulfed him. In seconds, he dropped, limp and unmoving, his eyes wide and glassy, skin pale and drained.
I covered my mouth, horror settling like a stone in my gut.
This was no dream. No ritual.
This was death.
The creature slowly turned again, almost sniffing the air. My heart pounded so loudly I swore it would give me away.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle echoed down the hall. The thing froze. Then, as if commanded, it receded—melting back into the dark, vanishing into one of the side tunnels.
A group of armored Sentinels burst in seconds later, blades drawn, eyes scanning.
One of them spotted the fallen man. "Another one," he muttered grimly. "Second patrol lost this week."
They didn't even see me.
I waited until they disappeared down the opposite hall before I ran—heart thudding, lungs burning—back to the room I shared with Alex. I slammed the door shut and pressed my back to it, sliding to the floor.
That wasn't a hallucination. That wasn't a vision.
Something had slipped into Ash Sentinel.
And it was hunting.
My hands were still shaking as I sat there against the door, the cold from that thing still clinging to my skin. I could hear Alex's steady breathing from the bed across the room. For a moment, I debated staying quiet—but I couldn't. I shouldn't.
"Alex," I whispered, my voice hoarse. He didn't stir.
I crawled over to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and shook him harder. "Alex—wake up."
He groaned softly, blinking into the darkness. "Anna? What's wrong?"
"There's something in Ash Sentinel," I said quickly, my voice barely controlled. "Not a person. Something else."
That got his attention. He sat up fast, eyes sharp in an instant. "What do you mean—'something else'?"
"I was on my way back, I must have taken a wrong turn. I saw it, Alex. This... thing. It was tall, cloaked in mist, its eyes—white, glowing. It wasn't walking—it was floating. One of the scouts ran right into it and—" I swallowed hard. "It killed him. Drained him. Just like that."
His jaw clenched. "Where?"
"Far side of the central corridor. The torches were almost out. I don't even think it saw me. Then a group of your people came after it, but they were too late. One of them said it was the second patrol lost this week."
He cursed under his breath and swung his legs over the bed, reaching for the blades he'd left nearby. "We've had reports of something moving in the lower tunnels, but no one's seen it and lived to describe it. Not like this."
"It wasn't human, Alex," I said, gripping his arm. "It felt like the dark had come alive. And it knew how to move through your walls."
He looked at me, serious now. "Then this changes everything. If it's already inside... the stronghold isn't safe anymore."
A knock came at the door.
Alex grabbed his dagger, motioned for silence, and stepped toward it carefully. "Who is it?"
A muffled voice answered from the other side. "Captain—there's been another body. North wing."
Alex's expression darkened.
He looked at me again, jaw tight. "Stay close to me from now on. Don't go anywhere alone."
I nodded. "I wasn't planning to."
He opened the door, eyes scanning the hallway. "Get the inner guards doubled. Lock down the tunnels. And wake the commander. We've got a breach."
As Alex disappeared down the corridor with the others, I stood alone for a second longer—staring out into the flickering torchlight.
Whatever I saw tonight wasn't finished.
And something told me…
It was only just beginning.
The moment the door closed behind Alex, silence crept in like a fog.
I stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly over my chest, listening to the faint sounds of voices and hurried footsteps fading down the corridor. Then… nothing. Just the low hum of the torches on the wall and the sound of my own heartbeat.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. The room suddenly felt colder than before—as if whatever I'd seen out there had left something behind, some unseen residue of fear clinging to the air.
I tried not to let my imagination run wild. But the image of that creature—the way it moved, the way it drained the life from that scout—wouldn't leave me. I kept glancing toward the door… then the corners of the room… then the shadows under the bed.
Something wasn't right.
The torches flickered.
Not just flickered—dimmed. Slowly. One by one.
I stood up, blood running cold. "No…"
A soft creak came from the far side of the room, near the wall.
My eyes locked onto it—there was nothing there. Just stone. But then I heard it again.
A whisper.
Not words. Just a breath… sliding along the wall.
I backed up until my shoulders hit the door. "Alex?" I whispered. "Is someone there?"
The room darkened further. My fingers fumbled for the dagger Alex had left near the bedside, gripping the hilt so tight my knuckles went white.
Then—I saw it.
Just for a split second, reflected in the dark glass of the window: a shape. Lurking behind me. Thin. Watching.
I spun around—nothing.
But now, a chill passed through me so deeply I nearly collapsed. My knees buckled and I dropped to the floor, panting.
The torches suddenly flared again.
Light returned.
And the presence… gone.
I sat there for what felt like forever, trembling on the cold stone floor, dagger still clutched in my hand.
Whatever had followed me from the corridor—it had been in this room.
And it wanted me to know…
I wasn't alone.