Darkness had a voice.
Emiliano learned that the night after the dance, lying in bed with his door locked, his lights off, and his phone on silent. The whisper didn't creep through the windows like before. It came from inside him—curling up his spine, coiling around his ribs like smoke.
"El umbral se abrió…"
The threshold is open.
He couldn't breathe.
He pushed himself upright, grabbing his chest. His room was drenched in a strange glow—moonlight, but stained faintly red, like the color of an old bruise. The clock on his wall blinked 3:33 AM, glitching, flickering between numbers like it was trying to speak.
He swallowed hard.
"Not tonight," he whispered, though he knew darkness didn't take orders.
Not anymore.
Not since the bell rang thirteen times.
And not since Isabela revealed what she truly was.
He shut his eyes, seeing again the moment the dance exploded into terror—the music dying, the lights shattering, the shadow erupting through the gym floor. The mark burning beneath his skin. Isabela hovering above the chaos like a forgotten god, her eyes glowing silver as she whispered:
"Emiliano… you are the key."
He hadn't slept since.
He didn't know how.
He opened his eyes again.
His shadow was missing.
It wasn't on the wall.
It wasn't under him.
It wasn't anywhere.
"Fuck," he breathed. "Not again—"
Something moved behind him.
Slowly. Wetly. Like something dragging itself across wood.
He froze.
The air turned cold. His skin prickled.
Then—
Knock.
Just one.
From inside his closet.
Emiliano's heart stopped.
Another knock.
Slower.
Heavier.
Knock…
He grabbed the baseball bat from under his bed and stepped closer. Every instinct begged him to run—out the window, out the door, anywhere but there.
But something inside him—something he hated—pulled him forward.
The same force that had woken him.
The same force that whispered through his veins.
The shadow.
He reached the closet door.
His hand trembled on the handle.
"Please," he whispered. "Please just be a fucking raccoon—"
He pulled the door open.
Nothing.
Just clothes.
Darkness.
Silence.
He exhaled shakily, lowering the bat—
A freezing hand grabbed his ankle.
Emiliano screamed as a figure crawled out from beneath the hanging clothes, pulling itself into the moonlight.
Skin gray.
Eyes hollow.
Hair dripping black liquid.
It was Daniela.
Or it looked like her.
But the mouth… wrong.
Stretched too wide.
Full of shadows instead of teeth.
Her voice came out glitching, skipping, like a corrupted voicemail:
"E—Emi… he—he's c—coming…"
He stumbled back, bumping against his bed.
"D-Dani?" he whispered. "Is it really—?"
The figure crawled closer, fingers cracking as they bent.
Her head jerked.
Her neck twisted too far.
Her limbs bent backward like broken puppets.
"He's… almost… h—here…"
"Who?! Who's coming?"
Her eyes snapped up to him—white, empty, glowing.
And she whispered:
"El Oscuro."
Before he could react, she lunged—
And dissolved into black smoke.
It shot past him, slamming into the wall, forming a shadowy sigil that pulsed like a heartbeat.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
Deep. Wet. Alive.
He stared at it, shaking.
And for the first time, it whispered back.
"Open the door, Emiliano."l
1. Morning After
Emiliano didn't sleep.
By sunrise, the sigil had faded from the wall—but the cold remained. His shadow didn't return.
He splashed water on his face, staring into the bathroom mirror.
His reflection stared back.
But it didn't move.
It didn't blink.
He stepped back, terrified, his pulse racing.
His reflection smiled.
Slow. Wrong.
"Fuck no.
He punched the light switch and stumbled out of the room, grabbing his backpack. He didn't even wait for the bus—he ran the whole way to school.
Even if San Espiritu High was cursed, haunted, doomed…
At least he wasn't alone there.
At least Lucía would be there.
At least Isabela—
He stopped mid-run, jaw tightening.
He didn't know what she was.
Shadow? Ghost? Demon? Something older?
But she wasn't human.
She never had been.
And she wasn't on his side.
2. The Omen in the Hallway
When he reached school, students moved around him like everything was normal. Laughing. Texting. Eating breakfast burritos.
Emiliano shoved his hood up, avoiding mirrors, windows—anything reflective.
But as he passed the trophy case, one surface caught his eye.
A glass panel.
His reflection wasn't there.
Instead—
A door.
Tall. Heavy. Deep red.
Carved with symbols he recognized instantly:
El Umbral.
The Threshold.
The same sigil from his wall.
The same mark burning on his forearm the night of the dance.
The door pulsed once.
THUMP.
He froze.
Lucía appeared beside him, out of breath. "Emi! I've been looking for you—are you okay? You look like you haven't slept in a week."
He didn't look at her.
He couldn't.
"Lucía," he whispered, "please tell me you don't see that."
"See what?"
He pointed at the glass.
"The door."
Lucía stared.
Then frowned.
"Emi… there's nothing there."
His blood ran cold.
She reached for his arm. "Please tell me what's going on. You've been acting—"
A loud metallic BANG echoed through the hall.
The locker at the far end dented outward—like something inside it had punched through.
Students screamed and backed away.
Another BANG.
Another.
The metal bent, stretched, peeled open—
A hand clawed out.
Gray. Thin. Bone poking through skin.
Emiliano grabbed Lucía. "RUN."
The locker split open with a shriek of metal.
A figure crawled out, gasping, choking, covered in ash.
It wasn't Daniela.
It wasn't human.
But it wore a San Espiritu uniform.
Students ran in every direction as the creature convulsed, jerking like it was glitching in and out of reality. Its neck cracked sideways. Its knees snapped the wrong way.
Then—
It spoke.
"Falta poco…"
It's nearly time…
Emiliano pulled Lucía behind a vending machine, shielding her.
"Don't look at it," he whispered. "Don't listen—"
But she was staring at him instead.
"Emi… how did it know Spanish?"
"What—? Lucía, we live in Mexico, of course it—"
"No," she whispered. "It spoke your dialect. The exact accent you grew up with. The same way Daniela spoke."
His chest tightened.
Another student's scream tore through the hall.
The creature was crawling toward them.
Fast.
Lucía trembled. "What does it want with you?"
He shook his head.
"It's not what it wants."
The door in the glass pulsed again.
THUMP.
"It's what he wants.
3. Enter Isabela
A sudden silver flash split the air.
The creature shrieked and flew backward as if thrown by an invisible force, crashing into a row of lockers.
Emiliano's breath caught.
Isabela stood in the middle of the hallway.
Calm. Still. Eyes glowing the same cold silver as the moon.
Lucía gasped. "Who… who is that?!"
Emiliano whispered, "Someone who shouldn't exist."
Isabela's voice echoed unnaturally, layered with something ancient.
"Emiliano. You opened the threshold last night."
Lucía stared. "Threshold? What threshold? Emi, what is she talking about?!"
He avoided her eyes.
Isabela stepped closer, not touching the ground.
"You were chosen as the bearer. The key. The bloodline that never died."
The creature hissed from the floor—not at Isabela.
At Emiliano.
It was afraid of him.
Lucía looked between them, shaking. "Emi… what is she saying? Please tell me you're not—"
Emiliano whispered:
"I think I'm the one they were trying to sacrifice a year ago."
Lucía's face went white.
Isabela raised a hand and the creature froze mid-crawl, suspended by invisible strings.
"That," she said softly, "is the first of many omens. They come from beyond the thirteenth door."
The glass behind Emiliano pulsed again.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
Isabela's eyes darkened.
"El Oscuro is nearly here."
4. The Truth He Never Wanted
Emiliano stepped forward, fists clenched.
"No more riddles. No more whispers. What the hell is happening to me?"
Isabela turned to him.
"For one year, the Blood Moon slept. But when the tower bell rang thirteen times… you awakened the bond."
"What bond?"
"The bond your family made generations ago. One that ties you to him."
"Who?!"
"El Oscuro," she whispered. "The lord of the forgotten realm."
Lucía grabbed Emiliano's sleeve. "Tell me she's lying."
Isabela's voice softened—almost pitying.
"You were born marked, Emiliano. You were always the gateway."
His vision blurred.
His heartbeat thundered.
"No," he whispered. "I fought it. I survived. I broke the ritual—"
"You delayed it," Isabela corrected. "Nothing more."
The creature on the floor twisted violently, its head snapping toward Emiliano as it let out a distorted wail—
"Abre la puerta…"
Open the door.
Lucía covered her ears. "Make it stop! Please—"
Emiliano turned toward Isabela, voice cracking with anger and fear.
"Then tell me how to stop it again."
She studied him.
"You can't."
He froze.
Lucía shook her head in disbelief. "There has to be a way—there has to—"
Isabela continued:
"You can't stop him…"
She raised her hand, pointing at Emiliano's chest.
"…because you are the door.
Emiliano loses his shadow
A twisted "Daniela" apparition delivers a warning
A creature crawls out of a locker
The Thirteenth Door appears in reflections
Isabela reveals Emiliano's horrifying truth:
He is the door.
Emiliano begins to transform
Lucía learns the true history of his family
El Oscuro reaches through the Thirteenth Door
And Isabela makes a choice that will change everything
Sallowed the hallway.
Not the kind that followed danger.
Not the kind that followed screams.
This silence felt alive—breathing through the cracks in the walls, curling beneath the flickering lights, humming with an ancient promise.
Emiliano stood completely still, Lucía gripping his sleeve as if letting go would doom them both.
His heartbeat roared in his ears.
He is the door.
"You're lying," he said. It came out weak, trembling. "That's not— I'm not—"
Isabela hovered closer, her feet not touching the ground. Her silver eyes dimmed to a softer shade, but the ancient weight in them remained.
"Emiliano… you've felt it your whole life. The dreams. The shadows. The way mirrors react to you. The way the bell responded to your presence."
He clenched his fists. "Those were nightmares. Trauma. PTSD from the Blood Moon—"
"Trauma does not make doors bleed backward in time."
Lucía flinched.
Emiliano swallowed hard, forcing breath into his lungs. "If I'm the door… then what is coming for me?"
Isabela's voice dropped to a whisper.
"El Oscuro wants to be born into your world. And you—your blood, your lineage—are the only vessel strong enough to carry him."
Lucía's eyes widened. "No… no, that doesn't make sense. Emi is just a normal guy. He gets sick on rollercoasters, he eats four tacos too fast, he—he panics during exams—how can he be—"
"It was never about who he became," Isabela said.
"It was about what he was born as."
1. The Legacy of Blood
The creature frozen beside the lockers snapped its head toward Emiliano again, letting out a low, haunting croak.
"Portaaador…"
Bearer.
Lucía squeezed Emiliano's arm, tears forming. "You're not a bearer. You're not a—whatever that means. You're Emiliano Rojas. My friend since kindergarten. You're—"
Her voice broke.
Isabela's expression softened, but her tone remained firm.
"Your family was chosen centuries ago, during the first Blood Moon ritual. A pact was made—one that no descendant could escape."
Emiliano shook his head violently. "My family didn't worship anything—my parents—my abuela—none of them knew—"
Isabela raised a hand and the hallway darkened as if a cloud passed overhead.
The shadows on the floor twisted, forming symbols Emiliano had seen only in nightmares—circles, triangles, sigils etched in ash.
"These were carved under your great-grandmother's house," Isabela said. "She hid them, but the bond remained."
Lucía stared at the symbols. "Wait—how do you know all this?"
Isabela finally looked directly at her.
"Because I was there."
Lucía's breath caught. "What do you—?"
"I have walked this world far longer than either of you have lived. I was assigned to watch over the threshold—to ensure it stayed closed." She paused. "…until it was meant to open."
Emiliano's heart hammered. "Why me? Why does everything want me?"
Isabela's voice was gentle now.
"Because El Oscuro cannot open the thirteenth door without you."
The locker creature let out a gurgling wail at the word "door," writhing against the invisible force that held it.
Lucía trembled. "Okay—okay, then we don't let him open it. We destroy the door. We destroy the sigil. We stop this."
Isabela shook her head slowly.
"You cannot destroy what you are."
2. The First Transformation
A burning pain slammed into Emiliano's chest.
He gasped, clutching his shirt.
Lucía yelled, "Emi?!"
He dropped to one knee as the pain seared through him like molten metal. His vision blurred—colors smearing, shadows sharpening.
A whisper crawled up his spine.
"Déjame entrar…"
Let me in.
His veins darkened beneath his skin, glowing faintly red.
The hallway pulsed.
The sigils on the floor glowed in answer.
Lucía grabbed him desperately. "Emi—look at me—stay with me—"
He tried to breathe but darkness filled his lungs.
His reflection in the trophy case appeared—only it wasn't him.
It was taller.
Hollow-eyed.
Horned.
Smiling with a mouth that split too wide.
Isabela's expression tensed. "It's beginning. His body is recognizing the connection."
Lucía snapped, "HELP him!"
Isabela moved closer but did not touch him. "If I intervene too soon, his mind will shatter."
Emiliano let out a guttural cry, his pupils expanding until his eyes were almost entirely black.
Lucía cupped his face. "Emi! Listen to me! You're stronger than this. You fought it once. You can fight it again."
His voice emerged distorted, layered with another voice beneath it.
"I'm— not— opening—"
Shadows crawled from beneath his arms, dripping onto the floor like ink.
Isabela watched, unreadable.
Lucía held him tighter.
The creature on the floor hissed, whispering:
"El nacimiento…"
The birth.
Emiliano's mark—hidden since the dance—glowed violently through his sleeve, burning with crimson fire.
Lucía reached for it instinctively—
A shockwave blasted her back.
She hit the lockers, gasping.
"LUCÍA!"
His voice finally broke through—his own voice—raw and terrified.
He crawled toward her, panting, shadows still coiling under his skin.
Isabela watched silently.
"Why didn't you help her?" he snapped.
"Because she cannot help you if she's dead," Isabela replied, unbothered.
Emiliano glared. "Touch her again and I swear I'll—"
"You'll what?" Isabela's gaze sharpened. "You cannot even control the shadows inside you."
He shoved himself up, wobbling, furious.
"I will not let him take me."
3. The Thirteenth Door Opens
The trophy case glass cracked.
All at once.
A deep, subhuman hum rumbled through the hallway, shaking the floor.
Lucía covered her ears. "What is that?!"
Isabela's expression dropped into something close to fear.
And she whispered:
"He's reaching through."
The broken glass shimmered like water.
Behind it—the red door appeared again, clearer than before, its handle twitching.
A deep voice bled through the cracks.
"Emiliano…"
Every light in the hallway shattered.
Darkness swallowed everything except the door.
It pulsed like a heartbeat.
THUMP.
Lucía whimpered. "E-Emi… don't look at it…"
But he couldn't look away.
His feet moved without permission.
One step.
Another.
Isabela grabbed his arm—finally touching him.
"Do not take another step," she ordered.
He felt her power surge through him like ice—but something stronger pulled him forward.
"I—I can't stop," he whispered.
A shadow hand emerged beneath the door, clawing toward the hallway.
Lucía screamed.
Isabela conjured a blinding silver barrier that halted the hand inches from Emiliano's face.
Sparks crackled. Shadows clashed with moonlight.
The voice behind the door growled:
"VOLVERÉ A NACER."
I will be born again.
The door exploded outward—shattering the trophy glass into dust.
Isabela was thrown backward, slamming into the ceiling.
Lucía crawled toward Emiliano. "Take my hand! Emi—TAKE IT!"
He reached for her.
A shadow tendril wrapped around his wrist, yanking him toward the door.
Lucía screamed his name.
The creature on the floor convulsed violently.
Isabela pushed herself up, bleeding silver from her nose.
But Emiliano stood at the center.
Half-shadow.
Half-human.
Pulled between two worlds.
The door opened a crack.
A whisper breathed out.
"Found you."
Emiliano's knees buckled.
The shadow pulled harder.
Lucía lunged and grabbed his other hand.
"Emi please—DON'T LET GO—"
Tears streamed down her face.
He held on with everything he had.
For her.
For himself.
For the life he didn't want stolen.
He looked at her through burning black eyes.
"I'm not letting him in."
The shadow roared.
The door widened.
Isabela dropped from above and slammed both hands onto the floor, chanting words in a language older than Spanish, older than Latin.
The shadows snapped back violently.
Everything went white.
A thunderous crack split the air—
And the Thirteenth Door vanished.
The hallway fell silent.
The creature collapsed, turning into ash.
The sigils faded.
The shadows retreated.
Emiliano fell to his knees, gasping.
Lucía wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder.
Isabela stood slowly, trembling from the energy she spent.
For the first time since they met…
She looked afraid
4. Aftermath
The hallway was destroyed.
Lockers dented.
Lights shattered.
Glass everywhere.
Lucía held Emiliano, refusing to let go.
He whispered, voice shaking:
"I—I felt him. On the other side."
Isabela took a slow breath. "He will try again."
Lucía glared at her. "Then you help us stop him."
Isabela hesitated.
Something she never did.
"I cannot protect you from what comes next."
Emiliano wiped his face. "Then tell us what comes next."
Isabela looked at both of them.
Then at Emiliano.
Then she said the words that froze them both:
"The Thirteenth Door only opens once more."
Lucía's voice cracked. "When?"
Isabela's silver eyes dimmed.
"When the Blood Moon returns."
Emiliano's stomach dropped. "That's—weeks away."
Isabela stepped closer to him.
"No, Emiliano."
Her voice trembled.
"It's tonight."