Carina's POV
The rain pounded relentlessly against the window, a steady, deafening rhythm that echoed through the stillness of the room. The wind howled outside, shaking the old wooden frame of the house. The sky, thick with the dark clouds of an impending typhoon, cast a gloomy pall over everything. The world felt muffled, as if it were sealed in a cocoon, far away from the comfort of warmth or light.
I sat by the window, my eyes blankly staring out into the storm. The heavy rain seemed to blur the edges of everything, leaving only a murky, indistinct view of the trees and fields. It was like everything had turned into a dream—a half-formed memory that I couldn’t quite touch.
The TV was on, the static voice of the news anchor breaking through the silence in the room. They were talking about the typhoon, the school cancellations, the warnings for everyone to stay indoors. But the words didn’t register. My mind was elsewhere. It wandered, slipping in and out of thoughts that felt too heavy to hold on to, too tangled to understand.
I couldn’t remember when I had become so lost in my own head, so disconnected from the present. Maybe it had been gradual, this drifting away from reality, this sense of being somewhere in between—half present, half somewhere else. But right now, I was completely adrift.
I didn’t even notice at first when the shadow appeared.
It wasn’t a dramatic shift, not like it used to be. No sudden movement from the corner of the room. No chilling air or sense of foreboding. It just… was. Standing there, in the corner, as it had done so many times before.
I didn’t turn to look at it. I couldn’t. Not yet. Something in my gut told me that I needed to keep my gaze fixed on the outside world, even if it was a blur of rain and wind. Something told me I needed to ignore it for just a moment, to listen to that small, almost imperceptible voice inside me that urged me to think.
But it didn’t matter how hard I tried to focus. I felt it. I felt its presence there, watching me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
The shadow never moved, never spoke. It just watched.
And I couldn’t stop the thought that rose in my mind. I needed to follow my mind. Not my heart. Not my instincts or the strange, magnetic pull that had always drawn me to it. I had to make sense of what was happening. I had to look at this—at us—from a distance, from a place of logic, even if the very thought of it made my chest tighten.
I had always known that something was wrong. That something about this, about him, was not natural. It had never been normal, the way he seemed to grow with me, the way his presence had been woven so intricately into my life, my mind, my body. I had always known that, deep down, this wasn’t something I could ignore forever.
And yet, I couldn’t escape it. Even now, even as the storm raged outside and the house trembled with the fury of the wind, I couldn’t pull myself away from the strange, cold comfort that he offered. The touch, the pull, the seduction. It had always been there, waiting for me to give in. And somehow, despite the warnings, despite the fear, I had never truly wanted to resist.
But something in me was shifting. Something deep inside, gnawing at me with a quiet urgency. What if I had been wrong all along?
The storm outside intensified, the howling wind pressing harder against the house. The air felt thick and heavy, like something was waiting to break, waiting to spill over. And yet, despite the chaos outside, I felt an odd stillness inside. A calm. But not a peaceful one. It was the calm before something awful, something dark.
It was then that I finally turned my head.
The shadow was still standing there, watching me. Its presence was more solid now, its form more defined than it had ever been. I could make out the faint outline of its body, the way it seemed to shimmer with a light that was both unnatural and hypnotic. Its eyes glowed, those pale white eyes that never blinked, never seemed to move.
But something was different. Something about the way it was watching me, the way it stood there, seemed… off. It was almost as if it were waiting for me to speak, to acknowledge it in some way, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
For the first time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it wanted. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the words that were sure to come next.
The whisper of my thoughts, my fears, echoed in the silence. What if it’s been lying to me all this time? What if it never cared about me at all?
The shadow, as if it had heard my thoughts, shifted slightly. Its form flickered, like a flame caught in the wind, before it became still again. It moved closer, but not toward me. Instead, it seemed to hover just out of reach, as if waiting for me to make the first move. But I didn’t move.
I couldn’t move.
My body, heavy with the weight of the unknown, felt rooted to the spot. The pull of it was still there, lingering beneath the surface, but now, for the first time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to give in to it.
I could feel the pressure in my chest, the tightness of my lungs as if the very air around me had become thicker. The shadow seemed to sense it too. Its eyes narrowed, studying me with that eerie, unsettling focus.
And then, with a softness that didn’t match the intensity of its gaze, it spoke, its voice barely a whisper in the heavy air.
"You know what you need to do."
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The words lodged in my throat, too heavy to speak. The storm outside was deafening now, the rain coming down in torrents. But inside, the room felt still. Too still.
And then, the shadow moved again, this time closer, its form rippling as though it were made of darkness itself. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t pull away. It stopped just inches from me, so close that I could feel the chill of its presence pressing into my skin.
I knew what it wanted. It always did. But tonight, I couldn’t give in. Not yet.
Not until I understood.
The storm raged on outside, but inside, the only sound was the rhythmic beating of my heart, the pulse of fear and desire mingling within me.
And deep inside, a voice whispered again, a voice not my own.
What if you can never leave?
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of everything that had been building up to this moment. It wasn’t just the storm that was raging anymore. It was something within me, something I couldn’t ignore any longer.
The rain outside was nothing compared to the storm inside me.
And I didn’t know which one would destroy me first.
The rain lashed harder against the windows, the sound now deafening, as if the entire world outside was being torn apart. The wind howled through the trees, bending them in impossible directions, and yet the room remained a strange, suffocating calm. The shadow stood by the corner, ever watchful, its eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, unblinking, unyielding.
But I wasn’t focused on it anymore. A faint glow in the darkness drew my attention—my phone.
I hadn’t heard it buzz, hadn’t seen it light up, but there it was, glowing faintly on my bedside table. The only light in the room besides the pale glow of the shadow. I reached for it slowly, my fingers trembling, as I lifted it to my eyes.
The message was brief. It had come from one of the teens I’d met back when I first arrived here—the ones who used to tease me, the ones who had always warned me about the field. Now, after all these years, they were my friends, my only connection to the outside world, besides the strange, twisted relationship I had with the shadow.
I unlocked the phone, my heart racing for reasons I didn’t want to understand, and read the message:
“Ric’s dead.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath caught, and for a moment, everything around me seemed to blur. The steady rhythm of the rain outside became a distant sound, like a memory I was trying to forget.
I couldn’t breathe.
Ric. The tall boy from the field. The one who had warned me about the engkantos. The one who had always been there, his thick accent and teasing smiles, now gone.
Dead.
The weight of those words hung in the air, heavy, suffocating. My mind screamed for answers, but there were no answers to be found. The message was simple, direct, and cold, and it left nothing but an overwhelming silence in its wake.
I looked back at the shadow, my heart pounding in my chest.
It was watching me, as it always did. Its gaze locked onto mine, those unblinking white eyes filled with something I couldn’t place—something like curiosity, or maybe… guilt?
We shared a long, pregnant moment, the kind of silence that felt like it could stretch on forever. The room seemed to close in around me, the walls pressing against my chest as I struggled to make sense of everything.
The shadow didn’t move. It didn’t speak. It simply stood there, watching me with that same inscrutable look in its eyes, its form almost tangible in the dark room. It wasn’t just the shadow of the corner anymore; it was more. So much more. But now, it felt... ominous. Darker, somehow.
I looked back at the phone in my hand, the text still glowing on the screen. And then, for the first time in a long while, I felt something deep within me—a stirring of doubt, a hint of fear.
Was this it? Had it finally come to this?
I could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me, suffocating me. Everything—Ric’s death, the warnings from the past, the connection I had with this… thing in my room—everything felt like it was pulling me in different directions. My mind screamed one thing, my body another. And the shadow? It was still there, like a dark specter, waiting for me to choose.
We locked eyes again, and this time, it seemed to recognize my hesitation. The air between us seemed to thicken, heavy with the unspoken words.
But I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.
All I could hear was the sound of the rain, the beating of my heart, and the faint, unsettling hum of the shadow in the room.
The message from Ric’s friends hung in the air like a heavy fog, and the world outside continued to rage. But inside, the storm felt like it had just begun.
And it was a storm that was only just beginning to reveal its true nature.
The shadow remained unmoving, waiting, watching.
And I was left, standing on the edge of something I could no longer ignore.
The storm wasn’t just outside anymore. It was here. Inside. With me.
And for the first time, I was afraid of what might come next.
But the shadow? It just stood there, staring at me. Waiting.
We shared a glance. And the room, the world, seemed to fall silent once again.
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