It was the crack of dawn. Sammy woke up in her bed, drenched in sweat, heart pounding, mind adrift in confusion. All she could see was the darkness of her room.
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"Oh! It was a dream," she thought.
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The ticking of the clock and the chirping of crickets reassured her in a strangely familiar way. She switched on the bedside lamp and reached for the clock. It was 3:50. With a quiet sigh, she set it back down—only to find her water glass empty.
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She sighed again.
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As she stepped out of bed, the floor felt cold and unwelcoming beneath her small, soft feet. She walked to the window and slowly opened it, letting in the stillness of the early morning.
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The sky was slowly shedding its midnight blue, fading into a softer hue. The neighborhood lay under an unusual hush—calm and cold. It felt unfamiliar, almost surreal.
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Her house stood beside the main road, and from her window, she could see the street and a row of houses on the opposite side. But tonight, everything was unnervingly still. Even the stray dogs had vanished into the silence.
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The houses across the road appeared different under the dim night sky—shadowy, quiet, and ancient. A narrow road ran beside one of those houses, disappearing into the unknown. The streetlights cast strange, twisting shapes on the old walls, like ghostly hands reaching out from the dark.
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She was slipping into a daze when something caught her eye.
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A hazy figure stood on the road beside that shadowy house. She couldn’t make out what it was—it shimmered faintly, like smoke in moonlight. She stared at it, unable to look away, as if being drawn in by an invisible force. Her body grew still, stiff. A numbness crept over her. The world around her began to blur.
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Everything was spinning. She was slipping away.
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Everything was blurry.
Sammy could barely make out the spinning ceiling fan above her. A sharp pain pulsed in her head as she blinked, trying to focus. Her body ached as if she'd walked for miles in her sleep. Her feet throbbed. Her limbs were sore and heavy.
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She was lying on the cold floor beside the window in her room — but she had no memory of how she got there.
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Outside, the sky was a strange, haunting pink. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows across the floor. The morning air crept in through the slightly open window, chilling her bare skin. She slowly pushed herself up, her body trembling.
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Then she remembered the path.
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She shivered. A deep unease settled in her chest. Goosebumps prickled her arms as fear slithered up her spine. Everything looked... normal. The houses outside stood quietly in the soft morning light, like nothing had happened. But something had.
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She reached for the edge of her bed and slipped under the blanket, her strength nearly gone. Her throat was dry, but even the idea of walking to the kitchen felt impossible.
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The clock read 4:45.
Had she only been unconscious for half an hour?
Why did it feel like she had been somewhere else... longer?
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The morning light seeped into the room, soft and pale, mixing with shadows that clung to the corners. The air was too still.
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And just as her eyes began to flutter closed again, she heard it.
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A whisper.
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Not outside.
Inside the room.
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And then — silence.
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She heard it.
Drip... drip... drip.
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The slow, steady sound of water. And then —
Something cold touched her feet.
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Sammy’s eyes flew open.
Darkness.
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Everything was swallowed in shadow, except for a faint orange glow — like a dying streetlamp — flickering weakly in the distance. Her skin crawled with unease. Her heart pounded in her chest like a warning bell.
Where was she?
How had she ended up here?
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As her eyes adjusted, she realized with mounting horror:
She was standing beside that house.
The one she'd seen across the road the night before.
The one that had felt wrong.
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Her breath caught in her throat.
That meant… she was standing on the road — the same one where she'd seen that figure.
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A wave of nausea hit her.
She felt the blood drain from her face, her legs trembling beneath her.
Cold sweat trickled down her spine.
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No. No, this isn’t real. I was just in my room. I was just—
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She spun around in panic.
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On both sides, she saw only crumbling concrete buildings, like empty shells.
And ahead of her — that path again.
Winding. Endless.
Leading into a darkness so thick, it felt alive.
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She turned back toward her home — or where her home should’ve been —
But all she saw was a wall of pitch-black emptiness.
No windows.
No lights.
Nothing.
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It was like the world had vanished behind her.
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Terror gripped her throat.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t scream.
Tears welled in her eyes, but even they felt cold.
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She was alone.
Utterly alone.
And something was watching.
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Now, she felt it.
Something — someone — was standing behind her. Watching.
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A cold breeze swept across the back of her neck, carrying with it a breath that wasn't hers — hot, damp, and heavy, like the panting of a wild animal. Every instinct screamed don’t look. But her eyes, disobedient with fear, slid to the corner… and saw it.
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A figure.
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Dense. Blacker than the night around it.
Standing silently on the road, just a few steps away.
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It wasn’t human. It wasn’t anything she could understand.
No eyes. No face. Just the crushing presence of something ancient... and wrong.
And it was breathing. She could hear it now — short, ragged inhalations, like a predator ready to pounce.
Her mind blanked.
No thoughts. Just terror.
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She turned and bolted into the pitch black.
The silence shattered with the pounding of her own feet.
But beneath that—
Another set of footsteps. Heavier. Faster.
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It was chasing her.
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She could feel it closing in.
The air grew colder with every step.
Her chest tightened. Her breath came in sharp, panicked gasps.
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And then, she heard it.
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A low growl —
Right behind her.
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