Asteria
I leapt from my seat, nearly knocking off the table, and yanked the café door open. Julian reached for my hand, but I stumbled outside before he could grab me.
The world fractured around me.
Voices. Lights. Rain.
All bleeding together into a dizzying, spinning blur. I couldn't tell up from down.
Rain slammed against my face, blinding, relentless, sharp enough to pierce my skin like a thousand needles. It stole my breath, clawed at my lungs, soaked through my clothes. My hair plastered to my cheeks, heavy and cold. Every thread of fabric clung to me.
My hands shook violently. The cigarette threatened to slip. The lighter hissed, sparked, spat flame before finally igniting. I drew in a bitter drag, smoke filling my lungs, anchoring me to something real or as real as this was.
What… what the hell is happening?
Am I losing my mind?
Her face surged back.
Hollow eyes. Dark blood curling down her cheeks. That impossible smile. The way she moved, untouchable, unbound to this world. Every horrific detail twisted in my gut.
This isn't a nightmare. This is real.
Or maybe it isn't.
Maybe I'm finally cracking.
The shadows seemed to lean closer, twisting with the rain. A figure, or maybe just a trick of the light, flitted at the edge of my vision. I squinted through the downpour, trying to see, trying to make sense.
My knees felt weak, my stomach a tight knot of fear and disbelief.
I was alone in the storm. But I wasn't.
I could feel it. Something was watching. Waiting.
What the hell was that? How and why would my mind see such bloody things all of a sudden?
It wasn't the first time.
Nightmares had stalked me for as long as I could remember, but those were dreams. They stayed where they belonged. Behind closed eyes.
These visions were creeping into the waking world now, slithering into daylight.
Maybe Julian was right. Maybe I really did need help.
But what would I even say?
Hi, I'm Asteria and I see blood and eyeless people in broad daylight! Please, don't lock me up!
The rain eased into a soft drizzle, but my nerves still crackled. For a heartbeat, movement caught the corner of my eye.
A shadow.
A shiver rippled down my spine.
I blinked. The alley was empty.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I stayed there a little longer, letting the cold air slice through the fog in my mind. Then I stubbed the cigarette out with my heel.
A soft, familiar voice drifted through the drizzle.
"Asteria… are you okay?"
I closed my eyes for a second, relief hit like a wave. Julian stepped outside, scanning me like he expected me to shatter right in front of him.
"I just needed a smoke," I whispered, though even I didn't believe it.
He didn't either.
"I know I'm not myself lately," I added, voice barely carrying over the rain. "I'm just… tired."
Julian's expression softened. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his warmth, something I didn't know I needed until now.
"How about we go to my place?" he murmured, brushing a kiss across my forehead.
"I'll cook for you. We can talk or not talk. We can watch something, cuddle… I'll hold you until you fall asleep. Whatever you need."
His comfort should have soothed me.
But inside me, something stirred.
A pressure.
A pull.
Something unseen.
Waiting.
Patient.
Watching.
And deep down, I knew this wasn't over.
Not even close.
We walked in silence through the humid air. Julian's hand found mine, gentle but grounding, his touch steadying me against the chaos inside.
I could barely see straight.
The streetlights blurred into halos, puddles reflecting distorted shapes. My heart thumped in my ears.
I kept checking behind me, half-expecting the shadow to appear again, but the alleys remained empty.
Still, I could feel it, a cold presence trailing just beyond my vision, silent.
His home was a world of its own.
Cozy, quiet, filled with character.
The faint smell of aged wood mingled with earth and the scent of his treasures. Rocks, sticks, and leaves carefully arranged on shelves and corners.
It felt like stepping into a sacred forest beneath a library roof.
Without a word, Julian guided me to the bathroom. I stripped off my soaked clothes and let hot water cascade over me. Steam curled around my chilled bones. I tried to scrub away the images, the terror, that impossible smile, but they clung, stubborn and unyielding.
When I finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, Julian took over, drying my hair with gentle, deliberate hands. His touch was grounding, careful, patient. I shivered, not from cold, but from the quiet intimacy of being held steady when the world felt like it was collapsing.
I sank into the cushions, knees drawn up, shivering despite the warmth. The room smelled of earth and old paper, faintly sweet from the potted plants. Julian moved with quiet efficiency, boiling water, preparing mugs.
Each mundane action comforted me, stitched the world together for a fleeting moment.
"Here," he said, handing me a steaming mug. Warmth seeped into my hands, a tether to reality.
"You are safe here," he murmured, thumb brushing over my knuckles.
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Words failed me.
"It is okay. You do not have to explain. Not yet. Just breathe."
I tried to let the warmth seep into my chest, to let Julian's calm wrap around me. But the café's memory refused to loosen its grip.
Blood. Hollow eyes. That impossible smile. Shadows lingering just beyond perception.
Julian draped a soft blanket over my shoulders, holding me close. His heartbeat, steady beneath my ear, tethered me to something real.
I rested my head against his chest, letting it soothe some of the storm raging inside me.
The blanket was soft, warm, protective, but it could not erase the relentless replay in my mind.
Julian's breathing deepened, slow and even, the kind of sleep that made the outside world fade. I should have let myself follow. I should have surrendered to safety. But my body refused. My mind refused.
I kept my eyes open, tracing the shadows flickering beyond the lamp's reach. Every creak of the floorboards, every sigh from the radiator set my nerves on edge. I gripped the blanket tighter, as if holding it could anchor me to reality.
A sound, a whisper, a movement made my breath catch. I froze, chest tight, trying to locate it without drawing attention. Julian remained still. But the sensation persisted. Something was near.
The pull I had felt outside pressed against me now. Behind me. In the shadowed corner. Patient. Cold. Watching.
I shifted slightly, just enough to glance toward the far corner. Shadows pooled there, thick and unnatural, moving in a way that defied physics. It shouldn't have been possible. Just darkness. But it was alive. Aware.
I wanted to scream. To wake Julian. But my voice caught. Every instinct screamed to flee. Yet I was rooted by a force I could not see, could not name.
A faint, cold pressure slid across the back of my neck, brushing my skin like a ghost's finger. I shivered violently, body trembling under the blanket.
Julian stirred slightly, murmuring in his sleep, arm tightening around me. The warmth was real, grounding, but no match for the crawling sensation across my skin.
I closed my eyes, willing it to be imagination. Just the dark.
Just shadows.
Nothing more.
But deep in my bones, I knew it wasn't. It was something deliberate.
Time stretched. I counted Julian's breaths, hoping the rhythm would calm me. The pressure didn't relent. It pressed closer, a whisper of intent curling around my perception.
A predator studying me, learning the weight of my fear.
Then, without warning, a soft sound, a faint dragging across the floor behind me. My eyes snapped open, scanning the room, heart hammering.
Nothing.
Just shadows, dancing in dim lamplight.
Yet I knew. I knew.
I hugged the blanket tighter, trying to ground myself in Julian's presence, trying to convince myself safety existed here, in his arms. But the air felt different, thick, heavy, charged with anticipation. Not just the night. Not just my fear. It. Whatever had followed me home.
I pressed myself against Julian's chest, holding my breath, listening.
Every creak, every whisper of wind against the window, every faint shift of the apartment became amplified.
And then a sound that froze me. A soft, deliberate tap at the window behind us.
I dared not move.
Julian's breathing remained steady, peaceful, safe, while the shadow danced around us, a dark presence I could not escape.
It had found me.
And it wasn't finished.
I stayed perfectly still, blanket tight, eyes fixed on the shadows.
The pull at the back of my neck strengthened, cold and patient.
This was not a warning. It was a promise.
Something had crossed the threshold into my life, into this apartment, into this fragile bubble of safety.
And I knew, with a certainty that froze me to the core, that the night was far from over.