He woke before his alarm, not because he had to, but because today felt different.
For a moment he laid still in the quiet of his dorm room, lying on his back and watching the faint lines of morning light stretch across the ceiling. There was a pull in his chest, gentle but persistent, like the echo of a thought he hadn't fully formed. He couldn't name it. Only feel it.
He reached for his phone.
6:15 AM
His eighteenth birthday, the day he becomes a full grown adult.
Normally, after pulling an all-nighter to finish a Chemistry assignment, he would've rolled over and tried to sleep for another hour. But he felt oddly awake. But today he felt unusually awake. Clear-headed. Not a hint of the heavy grogginess he expected.
Strange, even if he had been looking forward to his birthday.
Notifications glowed across the screen: simple birthday messages from classmates, a few from friends he made back in high school, and a reminder about his meeting with his research supervisor that afternoon.
He scrolled until he reached the one he'd been quietly waiting for. A notification he had set himself:
"Blood Moon tonight — visible at 6:04 PM."
He exhaled, a small smile forming. He had known about the event for months. He'd made no special plans, just a walk to the hill behind the dorms. A quiet place between the trees where the sky opened up.
Moments like that were meant to be alone.
Satisfied, he pushed himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
The mirror was cold when he touched it to adjust the angle, but the face staring back at him was the same one he'd seen for eighteen years.
Messy dark hair, calm eyes that always looked a little tired, even when he wasn't, a soft expression people tended to trust immediately. Not remarkable, not intimidating.
Just… Evan.
"Morning," he muttered to himself, mostly to hear his own voice.
He tried (and failed) to comb his hair into something presentable and splashed water on his face. When he straightened, something about his reflection made him pause. It was the same, yet not the same. He looked… sharper? More awake?
Probably just the lighting.
He got dressed and prepared a simple breakfast. His room was small, lived-in, and slightly cluttered: stacks of textbooks leaning together, a desk buried under notes and highlighted articles, printouts pinned in neat rows along his corkboard. His laptop still sat open with the research draft he'd abandoned at 3 AM.
And yet, as he ate, he couldn't shake himself of the faint tug in his chest, something expectant, something unfamiliar, it was like the day itself was holding its breath.
7:24 AM
Before leaving, he paused by the window. Clouds drifted slowly across a pale winter sky. He wasn't sure why, but the air felt… different. He just couldn't explain it. Not heavier nor colder but just slightly off, like a faint pressure behind his thoughts.
He smiled to himself. It's probably just the lack of sleep, that's all.
The hallway outside his dorm was still. Footsteps echoed softly on the worn floor as he made his way out, passing closed doors and the vague, muffled sounds of a few students already stirring, a sigh of life beneath the hush of the morning.
But as he walked, he felt it: a subtle prickle at the back of his neck.
Like someone had been standing right behind him.
He turned.
Nothing. Just the worn carpet and humming lights.
He shook his head and kept walking.
Outside, the morning air was crisp, and campus paths were lined with bare trees. Everything looked normal. Students were scattered about. Some rushing, some half-asleep, some laughing loudly despite the hour. Perfectly normal.
And yet, it all felt strangely distant, as if someone had quietly tilted the world a few degrees without telling anyone else.
On the way to class, it continued. A shadow that moved too quickly when he turned. A figure he thought he recognized but vanished when he blinked. A faint glimmer at the edge of his vision, like starlight reflecting on glass.
Maybe he was imagining it.
Or maybe he wasn't.
He tried to laugh it off.
It's my birthday. I'm excited. A rare eclipse. My mind's playing tricks on me.
But the feeling didn't fade.
LECTURE HALL
By the time he reached the Life Sciences Building, that strange tension had begun to hum quietly through his limbs. He felt... stronger. Not dramatically, but unmistakably. His body moved lighter, steadier. His steps felt more controlled, his balance sharper, like something inside him had subtly realigned overnight.
He even paused at the door, frowning to himself.
Had he… grown? Just a little? Maybe a couple of centimeters?
Maybe turning eighteen came with unexpected perks.
He pushed open the door to the lecture hall.
Warm air hit him, along with the familiar murmur of students settling in. The room was large, with rows of pale wooden seats coupled with desks that had seen better days. Someone in the back was arguing about exam dates, someone else was half-asleep with their hood pulled low.
Normal. Comfortingly normal.
Evan slipped into his usual seat near the middle, next to a friend of his, not too close to the front, not too far in the back. Close enough to see the slides. Far enough to stay invisible.
Halfway through the lecture, he had almost forgotten the strangeness of the morning. The steady rhythm of typing around him, the soft clack of keys, the glow of laptops filling the dim lecture hall. All of it blended into a familiar quiet that made the world feel normal again.
He was focused enough that he didn't notice how still the air had become. How quiet the room felt beneath the professor's explanations. How sharply he could hear every whisper of turning pages.
For a few minutes, the unease faded.
Until something shifted.
A flicker. A disturbance in the far corner of his vision, like someone standing at the end of the row.
He turned slightly.
Nothing.
Just students scrolling through slides, half-asleep, bored.
Evan exhaled through his nose and refocused on the lecture, tapping his keyboard to catch up on a line he'd missed.
Then it happened again.
In the corner of his eye, just past the doorway, he saw her.
A girl.
He couldn't make out features, only presence, like a shape drawn from the corner of a dream.
He blinked and looked directly.
Gone.
His chest tightened.
He blinked, scanning the rows. Nothing. No one even remotely like the figure he thought he saw.
He exhaled slowly, tapping his pen against the desk.
This wasn't normal.
"You good bro? You seemed kinda anxious this morning."
Evan flinched at the whisper, snapped back to the present.
Beside him, Mei had tilted her laptop away from the professor's line of sight, studying him with quiet concern. Sharp-eyed. Perceptive. Nothing ever slipped past her.
"Yeah," he said quickly. "It's nothing."
Mei raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Because that didn't sound convincing at all."
"It's really nothing, it's just… a weird day, I spose"
How was he supposed to explain it?
Hey, I keep seeing a girl who isn't actually there and the world feels different today didn't sound like something you casually dropped in the middle of a morning lecture.
Mei leaned back slightly in her seat, studying him. "Weird how?"
He opened his mouth, then stopped.
Because in the faint reflection of the lecture hall's projection screen, he thought he saw movement behind him. A subtle shift. A shape. A silhouette.
The same one.
His breath caught.
He turned sharply.
Empty aisle.
Empty space.
No one.
Mei frowned. "Evan?"
"I thought—" He shook his head, forcing himself back into the chair. "Nothing. Sorry."
She didn't push, but her eyes lingered on him a beat longer than usual.
The lecture droned on. Students typed. The projector buzzed faintly overhead.
But Evan couldn't focus. Not when that presence kept brushing the very edge of his awareness. Not when every so often, the corner of his eye flickered with motion only he could see.
He tried to stay composed. Tried to act normal.
But the feeling, the certainty, that something was watching him only grew stronger.
And it followed him all the way until the lecture finally ended.