PART 1 — "Something Is Breathing Down There"
Lila Hale had lived in Dormitory C for almost three months, and the one thing she still couldn't get used to was how old the building felt. Not old in the charming, historical sense—old in the way that every pipe groaned like someone whispering through the walls, and every night the wind slipped through the window cracks just enough to make the entire room whistle.
Her roommate, Mina, had gone home for the semester break, leaving Lila alone in the cramped room for the next two weeks. For the first few days, Lila enjoyed the silence. She studied, watched dramas, walked around in nothing but her oversized shirt, and slept whenever she wanted.
But on the fourth night, something changed.
It started with a soft scrape—like fingernails dragging along the wood under her bed.
At first, Lila tried to rationalize it. Maybe it was a pipe. Or the heater. Or just the building being its usual weird self.
But then she heard it again.
Scrape… scrape… scrape…
Slow. Deliberate. Too close.
She sat up immediately.
Her heart thudded against her ribs like a fist pounding a locked door.
The sound stopped.
The room fell into heavy, suffocating silence. The kind of silence that made her aware of every breath she took.
After a minute, she forced herself to lie back down, pulling her blanket up to her chin.
It's nothing. Just the building. Stop overthinking.
She turned off the lamp. Darkness swallowed the room instantly.
But as soon as she closed her eyes—
Something breathed under the bed.
Not the building. Not pipes.
A slow, rasping exhale—
as though someone was lying on their back beneath her, staring upward, breathing directly into the wooden slats of her mattress.
Lila froze.
Every hair on her body stood up.
She didn't dare move. She didn't dare scream.
Her mind began repeating a single sentence:
There is someone under my bed.
She slowly reached for her phone on the nightstand, her hand shaking so badly she nearly dropped it. She pressed the button. The screen lit up, revealing the time:
2:43 a.m.
She swallowed.
Then the voice came.
Not a whisper.
Not a growl.
A voice—raspy and quiet, as though its throat was filled with dust.
From directly beneath her, a few inches from her ear, it said:
"Lila… I'm still here."
Her blood turned into cold water.
She wanted to scream but the sound locked in her throat like a knot.
Her hands shook uncontrollably as she dialed Mina.
The phone rang once.
Then she realized——
if something was under the bed…
if it could speak…
what if it could hear her calling for help?
Her thumb hovered over the "End Call" button. Heart racing.
The raspy voice came again, this time hoarse and impatient:
"Lila… why aren't you answering me?"
She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop any sound from escaping.
The breathing continued. Slow. Wet. Labored.
Like it was waiting.
Like it knew she was awake.
Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure it could hear it.
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The thumping came from the underside of the bed. Rhythmic. Measured. Like knuckles tapping the wood beneath her.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Lila was shaking so badly the mattress trembled.
She forced her numb fingers to type instead of speak, sending Mina a text:
Mina please call security.
I think there's someone under my bed.
Don't call me. Just text. Please.
She hit send.
The knocking immediately stopped.
For three long seconds, everything was silent.
Then the voice exhaled softly and whispered:
"Who are you texting, Lila?"
Her breath hitched.
No. No no no. It saw her.
It knew.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Mina popped up:
Wtf??? Are you serious??
Turn on the lights! I'm calling security now.
The phone buzzed again.
Then again.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
The notifications lit the dark room in stuttering flashes.
In those brief flickers of light from the phone screen…
Lila saw something.
A hand.
A pale, thin hand—
slowly sliding out from beneath the bed frame.
Its fingers were long, too long, as if someone had pulled them like soft clay.
And the nails—yellowed, cracked, jagged—scratched lightly against the tile floor as it crawled forward.
Lila's vision blurred with tears.
The hand kept sliding out…
and out…
and out…
Like an arm that had no end.
She scrambled backward until she hit the cold wall behind her.
Her phone buzzed again.
Another message—
But this one wasn't from Mina.
Her screen displayed:
Unknown Number:
Don't run.
I can still see you.
Her fingers went numb.
She dropped the phone.
It clattered on the floor…
Right next to the pale hand.
The fingers reacted instantly—jerking, twitching, curling toward the phone like they recognized it.
Then the voice beneath the bed said:
"Lila… come back to bed."
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't think.
But she could run.
Lila bolted for the door—
bare feet slapping the tile—
and just as she reached for the knob—
A second hand shot out from under the bed.
This one grabbed her ankle.
It was cold.
And impossibly strong.
Lila screamed for the first time that night.
From the darkness under the bed, the voice hissed—
"You can't leave. Not yet."