["You're late."]
That voice again.
It wasn't loud. Just a whisper — low, almost calm. Like it was standing right behind me, breathing down my neck.
["They are coming."]
I opened my eyes.
The classroom lights buzzed faintly. A few beams of sunlight cut through the window blinds, lighting up the dust in the air. Everything looked normal... but for a second, I couldn't tell if I was still dreaming.
"Rayne."
I blinked and looked up.
Miss Halden was watching me from the front of the class. She had that tired smile she always wore, the kind that says, I'm too exhausted to scold you, but come on.
"That's the third time this week," she said. "Falling asleep again?"
"Sorry," I mumbled, sitting up straighter. My voice sounded rougher than I expected.
She didn't push it. Just nodded and turned back to the board. "Try not to drift too far next time, alright?"
Her words were casual. But they stuck with me.
Because part of me wasn't sure I could tell the difference anymore — between a dream and what was real.
My head throbbed faintly—like I hadn't been resting, but falling. The dream—or whisper—lingered just beneath the surface, too vague to recall, yet unsettling enough to leave a weight on my chest. I glanced out the window. The sky felt a shade too gray for this early. Or maybe it was just me.
The bell rang, cutting through the haze in my head.
I gathered my things slowly, shoulders heavy with that strange, lingering unease. It wasn't fatigue. It was something quieter. Quieter—and deeper.
"You slept through the whole thing again, didn't you?" Rachel said, walking up beside me.
I smirked faintly. "What gave it away?"
She tilted her head, brushing her hair behind one ear. "The fact that your eyes were shut the entire lesson. You even mumbled something in your sleep. Sounded like a full conversation."
I paused mid-step.
"…Ahaha I hope I didn't say anything embarrassing"
"I'm joking. Kind of." She looked at me, studying my face. "You alright?"
"Yeah. Lately I've been more tired than usual."
A part of me wanted to talk about my 'dream'. The more I try and remember it, the more it feels real - A sleep paralysis perhaps. Yet this uneasy feeling… won't go away.
Something about today felt… off. The kind of off that doesn't come from bad sleep or skipped breakfast. Like the world had tilted just slightly, and no one else had noticed.
The autumn wind bit at our jackets as we left the school gates. Leaves chased each other across the pavement like they were late for something.
Rachel kept pace beside me, hands shoved into her coat pockets. "So, you gonna tell me what's actually up?"
I shrugged. "Just a weird dream. Or… not even a dream. It felt more like someone was whispering into my skull."
She glanced sideways. "Sounds healthy. Consider seeing a psychiatrist!"
"I'm serious."
"You say that every other week."
"Not like this."
We stopped at a crosswalk. The traffic light blinked red, though no cars passed. The world felt oddly still—like a frozen frame in a film reel. Even the wind had quieted.
Rachel narrowed her eyes at the sky. "Clouds are moving weird."
I looked up. She was right. They weren't drifting—they were twisting. Spiraling faintly. Subtle, but wrong. Almost like—
"I didn't notice that earlier," I said, blinking.
She raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're not still dreaming?"
The light finally changed.
As we crossed, the chill returned, stronger this time—like something breathing on the back of my neck. I turned instinctively.
Nothing.
No cars. No people. Not even birds overhead.
Maybe It's just me being paranoid.
We reached the corner where Rachel and I usually split ways.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah," I replied. "Get home safe."
She gave me a mock salute and turned down her street.
I kept walking.
There was a small shop at the edge of my route. I'd stopped there so many times the bell above the door felt like background noise—something that marked the end of the day, like punctuation.
Ding.
I stepped inside. Empty,
The fluorescent lights buzzed above, flickering in a single aisle. The usual hum of an old radio playing fuzzy classics was gone. So was the scent of cheap lavender that usually lingered.
And so was Mrs. Lily
She always sat behind the counter, tapping her nails against the glass, occasionally humming. But today, her chair was turned slightly, as if someone had stood up too fast and left it spinning.
"…Hello?" I called yet no answer.
No footsteps. No shuffle from the backroom.
Something about the quiet here wasn't normal. It wasn't the kind that said closed early. It was the kind that whispered, you're not supposed to be here right now.
My hand hovered over the shelf of snacks. The air felt heavier, like something was holding its breath with me.
I stepped out of the shop with a hollow feeling in my chest. The breeze brushed past my face, but it wasn't the usual kind. It felt… still. Like the world had paused, holding its breath for something I couldn't name.
The bell above the door didn't ring when I left.
I kept walking.
The streets were quiet — not dead, just off. No cars. No kids running by. Even the birds weren't chirping, and they always were around this time. I glanced back at the shop one last time. No movement inside. Just the faint flicker of the ceiling light dancing on empty aisles.
Maybe she stepped out for a minute. Maybe I'm being paranoid.
I shook the thought off.
But just as I turned the corner — I saw him.
Curled up on the pavement, right near the alley. My cat.
"…Aelric?"
He lifted his head slowly, blinked once. Then again. His silver eyes stared right through me, like he'd been waiting.
I hadn't seen him in weeks. Not since he wandered off one stormy night and never came back.
And now, here he was. Calm. Silent. Tail flicking side to side with deliberate rhythm.
"What the hell…?"
I took a step closer. Aelric didn't move.
But behind me, something whispered.
Soft. Barely audible. But not in any language I understood. More like… a breath trying to form words.
I froze. The world didn't feel paused anymore.
It felt like it had just turned to look at me.
I crouched and pulled Aelric into my arms. "You little idiot…" I muttered under my breath, pressing my face into his fur. "Where've you been?"
He felt warm. Steady. Like nothing had changed. For a moment, that stupid hope clung to me — maybe I was just overthinking it all. Maybe the unease in the air was just nerves. Just a bad dream still lingering in the back of my head.
But then I saw his eyes.
They used to be a dull silver — ordinary. Now they gleamed, sharp and glass-like, as if holding a reflection of something far beyond me. And just above his eyes, partly hidden beneath his fur, was a faint black symbol. A spiral. Three sharp lines carved around it, almost like a crown.
My breath hitched. "Aelric… what the hell is that?"
He didn't growl. Didn't twitch. Just stared at me for a long second — then past me. His body stiffened. Not out of fear… more like recognition. Like something had arrived.
Then he leapt from my arms and landed a few feet away. His posture changed — cautious but calm, tail flicking once. Waiting.
That's when I felt it: the wind. Soft and sudden. It hadn't blown all day, not even once, but now it brushed across the back of my neck with a strange chill. I turned slightly, instinctively, but there was nothing.
I blinked.
It should've lasted a second. But it dragged on, slow and heavy. Ten seconds, maybe more. Time twisted inside my skull.
Then it began — not a dream, not even a memory.
A throne, floating somewhere impossible. The sky was endless, made of ash and gold. A figure sat upon the throne — faceless, cloaked in silence. The only thing I could make out was the crown-like distortion above its head. It didn't move. Just watched.
Then a voice echoed. It didn't come from the figure's mouth — it came from everywhere at once.
"You're late."
The world twisted. My chest tightened.
"They are coming."
And then I opened my eyes.
The air was still. Too still. No cars, no birds, not even the faint buzz of the streetlights. Just a low sound — a screech, far off but growing louder. I turned.
Down the road, shadows spilled across the cracked pavement. Crawling, twitching things with limbs bent wrong, sprinting like animals. And towering behind them was something enormous — dragging its arms through buildings like paper, its outline almost humanoid but fractured and broken.
There it was again, the awful yet calm voice that echoed across a hollow floor - but this time I could hear Rachel's voice; Spiral.
Aelric was gone.
I didn't think. I just ran. But even as I moved swiftly in panic and fear, I felt it, the whispers of people screams and their fear echoing to me. This was no longer just another one of those nightmares - the world had really already shifted and I —
Was already too late.