Niah's POV
Niah despised the transformation Eldermere underwent once the sun dipped below the horizon.
It wasn't merely the extending shadows; it felt as though the entire town held its breath, as if it was waiting and watching, knowing something she wasn't aware of.
She had left the bookstore late, Maria lingering behind for inventory, and Niah had volunteered to drop off a box of old children's books at the charity stall near the Hollow Cross, believing it would be a simple and quick task.
Yet, something felt off.
Her boots thudded against the cobblestone path, the box feeling heavy in her arms. Her breath emerged in shallow puffs, dissipating in the cold air. Thick fog curled wickedly around the corners of the streets, low and moving at an unsettling pace.
Something was amiss. Niah felt it deep in her gut.
A chill ran down her spine, prompting her to quicken her pace.
"Don't be foolish, Niah," she scolded herself. "Just drop off the books, get home, and—"
Suddenly, a bottle clinked behind her, causing her to freeze. She slowly turned to inspect the source of the noise.
But she found nothing; that absence of sound felt wrong.
There was no wind, no cars, not even the familiar echoes of laughter from the nearby pub. Just an unsettling, heavy silence hanging in the air.
She whirled around, her steps quickening as adrenaline surged through her, her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Okay, nope," she whispered to herself. "Not today. I'm not in the mood for ghost-town theatrics, thanks."
That's when she saw him.
A masculine figure loomed just ahead, standing motionless in the middle of the road as if he belonged there.
He didn't move from his place, or he offer any response.
"Hey—" her voice faltered, and she despised that weakness.
"Do you need—?" she began, but he tilted his head mid-sentence.
There was something unsettling about the way his neck turned, in a smooth and deliberate way.
Feeling a rush of fear, she took a step backwards. "I… I don't want any trouble."
He smiled slowly.
But that smile lacked warmth. It was just sickening, and she bolted.
The box tumbled from her arms as she ran, slamming her shoulder against a street post in her panic. Her breaths quickened, coming in ragged gasps. Her legs burned with the pain, and her lungs cried for air.
Yet, she couldn't stop, didn't even dare to glance behind her.
Then, a jarring force brought her to a halt.
An invisible, electric pull yanked at her feet, sending her crashing to the ground, hands scraping against the stone. Pain shot through her vision like a flash of white light.
The man was inches away from her now. Too close for her liking.
She scrambled onto her hands, fear rising as he approached with a vicious glint in his eyes, like he was ready to devour her whole.
Then, without warning, there was a thunderous crack.
A rift in the air, blinding and golden, appeared between them. The man jerked violently, his body spasming as if unseen strings had snapped, and he collapsed onto the ground.
Within a blink, he was gone. Like he didn't even exist.
Niah blinked back tears, hands scraped, and knees bruised. Her entire body trembled from the adrenaline.
She was caught in a state of turmoil, unsure whether to scream or cry. Then, a voice, soft and clear, whispered next to her ear, "You are not alone."
But there was no one there. She turned, searching for the silence behind her.
Only fog and streetlamps greeted her, alongside a deep, suffocating fear that avoided definition.
"…Why?" she murmured into the stillness. "Why me?"
But there was no reply.
Only the sound of the town, gradually exhaling, as though it had been waiting for something to creep past.
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