Carina's POV
The sun was just beginning its descent when I stepped out of the college gates. The warmth of the day still clung to the air, but there was a coolness coming from the west, the promise of evening to come. I didn’t mind the walk home. In fact, I preferred it. The roads were less crowded now, with the majority of students already off to their next destinations. The quiet was comforting, allowing me time to think.
My mind drifted between the pages of the lecture I’d just attended and the endless tasks I had waiting for me at home. I was lost in my thoughts when I noticed an old woman ahead of me, walking with a cane. She was slow, deliberate in each step, and her movements seemed almost fragile. There was something unsettling about the way she moved, but I couldn't place why. I slowed my pace, not wanting to pass her too quickly.
As I neared her, I couldn’t help but notice her pale, almost ashen skin, her long, white hair wrapped tightly under a scarf, and the vacant look in her eyes—eyes that seemed to see nothing but the air around her. Despite being blind, she walked with a sense of purpose, as if she knew exactly where she was going.
But what caught me off guard was when she suddenly stopped in the middle of the street. I almost collided with her, but I instinctively halted a few steps behind.
“Stop,” she said, her voice cracked and thin, like dry leaves crunching underfoot. The words seemed to carry a weight, an undeniable command that made me freeze in my tracks.
At first, I didn’t understand. The word felt foreign, but familiar all the same. I stood still, my heart racing, unsure of what to do. The wind picked up for a moment, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
Then, the old woman turned toward me, her blind gaze piercing the air as if sensing my every movement.
“You must leave this place, child,” she whispered, though the warning in her voice was sharp, as if it held a hidden danger. “If you stay, it will devour all that is here… all that you hold dear. It will take everything, just to be with you.”
I blinked, confusion sweeping over me. “What… what do you mean?” I asked, my voice trembling, though I couldn't explain why.
The old woman tilted her head slightly, though her eyes remained unseeing. “It will not respect life, not even its own, to take what it wants. It will consume everything to exist in this world, to bind itself to you.” Her voice quivered as though the words she spoke were as ancient as the ground beneath us.
I stepped back, my heart pounding in my chest. The wind seemed to pick up again, rustling the leaves around us, though the woman remained still. I could feel a chill creeping up my spine, and for the first time in a long while, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread.
“Who… who are you talking about?” I asked, barely able to form the words.
The woman’s lips curled into a faint, cryptic smile, her breath shaking in the cool breeze. “You know who I speak of. It has already marked you. You cannot escape it, child.” She lifted a trembling hand and pointed toward the horizon. “But you can leave, while there is still time. Before it takes everything. Before it takes you.”
My throat tightened, and I turned my gaze to where she pointed, though I didn’t know why. The street seemed the same as always, the same houses lining either side of the road. But something felt different now, as if a presence lingered in the air, something waiting, something hungry.
I swallowed hard. “What will happen if I don’t leave?”
The old woman gave a low, almost sorrowful laugh, the sound rattling in her chest. “It will claim all, and in doing so, it will take you as well. Not physically, perhaps, but in ways that matter most.”
I shuddered, my body shaking from a cold I couldn’t explain. I wanted to run, to escape, but something rooted me to the spot, some unseen force pulling me back.
And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the wind died down, and the woman took one final step forward, her fragile hand gripping my wrist with surprising strength.
“Leave now, child,” she repeated, her voice softer, almost pleading. “Before it’s too late. It cannot be reasoned with. It has already chosen you. But you can still choose to break free.”
I could feel her breath against my skin, cold and unsettling. I wanted to shake her off, but the weight of her words held me in place.
With a final look that seemed to pierce through me, she released my wrist and took a slow step back. “Go home, child. Before it’s too late.”
Before I could react, she turned and continued her slow, deliberate walk down the street, her steps fading into the distance as the evening shadows lengthened around me.
I stood there for what felt like an eternity, the world around me feeling suddenly alien, unfamiliar. The air was thick with something I couldn’t name—something dark, something waiting.
I looked down the street, but the woman was already gone, leaving only the faintest echo of her words ringing in my ears.
It will devour everything.
The thought lodged itself in my mind, refusing to leave. And as I turned back toward my house, my heart heavy with unease, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the old woman was right. Something was coming. Something that had already marked me. Something I could not escape.
I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. The shadow was growing, and whatever it was, it was closer than I had ever imagined.
And I feared that, soon, it would be too late to turn back.
****
I stepped inside the house, the heavy door closing behind me with a soft thud. The silence of the familiar space greeted me, but it didn’t feel the same anymore. Something was different. The weight of the old woman’s words lingered in my mind, like a dark cloud refusing to dissipate. I couldn’t shake the image of her thin, outstretched finger pointing toward the horizon, warning me of what I couldn’t escape.
The house was quiet, too quiet. I could feel the pulse of something in the air, something that didn’t belong, something that had been there long before I ever set foot in this place.
I walked up the stairs to my room, my body feeling heavier with each step, as if the house itself was pressing down on me. I couldn’t explain it, but it was as though I was being pulled toward something… or someone.
The door creaked slightly as I entered, and I immediately felt the change in the atmosphere. It was different. The air was thick, almost suffocating. But there, in the corner of the room, I saw him.
He was no longer a shadow. No longer a formless, ink-like figure lurking in the dark. He was… him. The man I had come to know over the years. The one who had been with me since my childhood, growing alongside me.
His form was taller now, more defined, almost solid. His hair, the black and white strands that had once been a vague blur, was now distinct. He stood, his posture straight and commanding, his eyes glowing with that same otherworldly light that had always pulled me in. His white eyes, luminous and mesmerizing, locked onto mine the moment I stepped into the room.
I felt a shiver run down my spine, but it wasn’t from fear. It was a strange mixture of awe, confusion, and something else—something deeper. A pull. A need.
I had always known that something was off about him, even before the old woman’s warning. There had always been an eerie sense about him, an underlying darkness that never fully revealed itself. But now, as I stood there facing him, I realized just how much he had grown. Just how much we had grown. He had become more than I could ever have imagined.
As I stood frozen in the doorway, his gaze never wavered. It was as though he was waiting for me to make the first move, to acknowledge what we both knew but had never dared to speak aloud.
I slowly walked toward the bed, my steps deliberate, almost as though my body knew exactly what it wanted, even if my mind was still racing, still trying to comprehend everything that had happened. I sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of his presence in every corner of the room, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away from him.
I had never thought about it before. How old he might be, or how old I might be in comparison. Was he truly as young as I was now? Or was he, as I had always suspected, far older than I could fathom? Older than my parents, older than the very land we lived on?
I shivered again, this time from the thought of it. The old woman had said that he would devour everything, that he was capable of anything to get what he wanted. But even with that thought hanging heavily in the air, I couldn’t bring myself to feel fear. Not anymore.
Instead, I felt… tired. Exhausted, even. I could feel the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me, and all I wanted was to let go.
I laid back on the bed, my eyes closing briefly as I let the fatigue settle in. I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to. He had never spoken much to me anyway. Our relationship had always been more of a silent understanding. But now, it felt different.
I could hear the soft rustle of his movements as he stepped closer, but I didn’t open my eyes. The coolness of his presence, like a shadow wrapped in warmth, hovered over me. His scent was there again, the familiar blend of cold and something darker, something primal. I felt it press against my skin, just like it always had, just like it always would.
He was here, and he wasn’t leaving.
As I lay there, my mind drifting between thoughts and dreams, I realized that I had never really questioned him. I had never fully understood what he was or why he had chosen me, but somewhere deep down, I knew that I didn’t need to. He had always been a part of me, a part of my life in ways I couldn’t fully explain.
And now, as I lay in the quiet dark of my room, I felt a sense of inevitability. Whatever had been said by the old woman, whatever dark forces lingered in the air, there was no escaping it now.
He wasn’t just a shadow anymore. He was him—a man, a presence that had grown with me, that had taken shape as I had. And as I felt him hover above me, his cool breath brushing against my neck, I understood.
He would never leave. And neither would I.
For all the warnings, for all the darkness that had surrounded us, I realized, with a quiet certainty, that we were bound to each other in ways that could never be undone.
With that thought in mind, I let my eyes slip closed once more, a small sigh escaping my lips. As I drifted into sleep, I knew that this was just the beginning.
And no matter what came next, I couldn’t stop it. Neither could he. We were both trapped in this dance, this endless cycle that neither of us could break free from.
And maybe, just maybe, neither of us wanted to.
****