Avery's POV
With a snap of fingers, everything stopped.
Time.
Air.
The world.
Just like the first time. Like that hazy dream that had preceded my collapse, and the one I'd had at the hospital—that strange sensation of being there without really being there. But this time, there was no suffocating darkness, no gloomy hospital atmosphere.
When I lifted my head, nothing was familiar anymore.
A forest stretched out around me, silent, bathed in a diffuse light tinted with cold, melancholic hues. The trees stood motionless, frozen in a morbid eternity, their twisted branches casting long shadows across the damp ground. A thin mist slithered between the trunks.
In the distance, a small house took shape.
Smoke rose lazily from its chimney.
Yet it was summer.
And yet here, the air was freezing.
My heart tightened, but my feet carried me forward anyway, toward that house, as if drawn by an invisible force. The door opened by itself with a slow, sinister creak—almost theatrical, like a scene deliberately meant to terrify.
I stepped inside.
The interior felt like it belonged to another century.
Dark wood paneling, rigid antique furniture, rugs worn down by time. The smell of cold ash, dust, and dry wood hung in the air. Everything seemed frozen, abandoned for decades.
A once-warm home, once alive, now empty and haunted by its memories.
Then I saw her.
In a bedroom with creaking floorboards, a silhouette stood in the shadows.
A child.
The same girl from the hospital.
But this time, she was wearing an old-fashioned dress—clean, almost elegant. Her hair was carefully styled into golden curls, and in her arms rested her doll… intact. As if brand new.
I took a step toward her.
The floor groaned.
She turned slowly.
Her face was sad, steeped in silent distress, as if she had been holding back tears for centuries. For a brief moment, she looked fragile. Broken.
Then her gaze changed.
Brutally.
Her expression twisted, her features tightened, her mouth stretching into something inhuman. Her eyes darkened, and a primal fear froze my blood.
She screamed.
A scream—sharp.
Ripping.
Supernatural.
And everything shattered.
---
I was violently pulled back into reality, my body slumped, my hands trembling, my breath short.
"Avery!"
Daniel was in front of me, his hands gripping my shoulders, his eyes filled with panic.
"Hey—what's going on? You were like… in a trance."
He bombarded me with questions, then suddenly stopped short, as if struck by something.
"What is it?" I asked.
"You're bleeding…"
"What…?"
I felt something warm on my cheeks and instinctively brought my fingers to my ears. Sticky heat. Red. Thick.
Blood.
It really was blood.
"Jesus, Avery… you're bleeding like hell!"
He frantically searched around before grabbing a piece of cloth, trying to stop the alarming flow.
"Are you okay? Tell me you're okay!"
"Yes… I—I'm fine," I whispered, despite the tremor in my voice.
But even I didn't believe it.
"Seriously, what the hell is going on?!"
Before I could answer, a sharp noise split the air.
CRASH.
Shards of glass.
Then a scream—short, but terrifying.
Our mother's panicked voice.
Without thinking, we rushed out of the secret passage, almost running, hearts pounding, toward the living room. She was there, crouched down, picking up pieces of a shattered plate, visibly shaken.
"Mom… are you okay?" I asked.
"Yes… yes, I'm fine. Just… I was clumsy."
A brief relief.
Too brief.
A shiver crawled violently up my spine.
The air changed.
Heavier.
Denser.
Then I felt it.
A presence.
Footsteps echoed behind us. Slow. Measured. Threatening.
We turned around.
A man was standing there.
A stranger.
His gaze was dark, contrasting sharply with the light color of his eyes—piercing, almost too aware. As if he already knew everything. As if he had just found something that belonged to him.
Or someone.
His eyes locked onto me.
And I understood immediately that whatever had just begun…