The morning was crisp and quiet as Jason pulled up in front of Selwyn's house. The engine of his car hummed softly as he leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. A moment later, Selwyn stepped outside, pulling his coat tighter around himself before sliding into the passenger seat.
"You're looking like you didn't sleep at all," Jason remarked, glancing at him as he pulled away from the curb.
Selwyn exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Didn't sleep well."
"Another nightmare?" Jason asked, only half-joking.
Selwyn hesitated. It wasn't just a nightmare. The whispers had been worse than ever last night—urgent, relentless, like warnings he couldn't quite understand. And then, at the peak of it, he had woken to find a shadowy figure at the foot of his bed. It had whispered something in an ancient tongue before vanishing like mist. He had barely gotten any sleep after that.
But he wasn't about to tell Jason that.
"Something like that," he muttered instead.
Jason sighed. "Dude, you need a vacation."
The drive to Ashford University was uneventful, though Selwyn couldn't shake the lingering unease. By the time they arrived on campus, Sofia was already waiting for them near the entrance, arms crossed.
"Took you long enough," she quipped, then took a good look at Selwyn. "You look worse than usual."
"Thanks for that," he deadpanned.
Sofia exchanged a glance with Jason, then shrugged. "Whatever, let's just get to class."
The day passed mostly as expected—lectures, assignments, casual conversations—but a subtle tension hung in the air that none of them could quite place. It wasn't until midday that the first real disturbance occurred.
A crowd had gathered near the entrance of the abandoned west wing of the university, murmuring among themselves. Selwyn, Jason, Sofia, and Raven approached, pushing through the students to see what had happened.
Dr. Miriam Clark stood in the center of the scene, kneeling beside an unconscious student. Her dark brown eyes scanned the student's unmoving form with a look of calculated concern.
"Is he okay?" someone asked.
Dr. Miriam adjusted her glasses, her expression unreadable. "He's alive but unresponsive. I'm taking him to the medical room immediately."
As she called for assistance, Selwyn's gaze drifted toward the abandoned west wing, a part of the campus long left to decay. Something about it sent a chill down his spine. He exchanged a glance with Raven, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"What was he even doing in there?" Jason muttered. "I thought that place was off-limits."
"Maybe he wandered in on a dare," Sofia suggested, though she didn't sound convinced.
Selwyn frowned. The whispers from last night returned to his mind. Was this connected?
That night, Selwyn barely got any rest. The whispers returned, louder this time, more insistent. He turned in bed, trying to block them out, but the room felt colder than usual. A strange sensation prickled at the back of his neck.
Then, as he opened his eyes, he saw it.
A shadowy figure stood at the foot of his bed, shrouded in darkness. Its presence sent an unnatural chill through the air. It whispered something—words in an ancient tongue that Selwyn couldn't understand. A deep, sinking dread settled in his chest.
He blinked, and just like that, the figure was gone.
Sleep did not return to him after that.
The next morning, the unease still clung to him as he met up with Jason and the others. However, before they could even discuss the previous day's events, another chilling incident occurred.
A second student had gone missing.
The news spread fast, sending ripples of panic through the campus. Hours later, the student was found in the abandoned west wing—unconscious, in a trance-like state, just like the first. A group of students stumbled upon the motionless figure and immediately called for help.
Dr. Miriam arrived shortly after, examining the student before taking them to the medical room. Selwyn and Raven, however, couldn't shake the feeling that something larger was at play. Two students disappearing under similar circumstances—both found in the abandoned west wing, both in an unresponsive state—was too much to be a coincidence.
Jason and Sofia also felt the weight of the situation, their unease growing. Meanwhile, Selwyn and Raven knew one thing for certain: they needed answers.
As evening fell, Selwyn and Raven stayed behind, lingering near the west wing after most students had left. The door had been locked up again, but that didn't stop the unease from settling deep within them.
"This isn't normal," Raven said quietly. "Something's happening here."
Selwyn nodded, staring at the darkened windows. "And we need to find out what."
She pulled something from her bag—a journal, worn and frayed at the edges. "I found this in the library's restricted archives. It belonged to a past Rogue."
Selwyn took the book, flipping through the pages. His eyes widened as he read one of the entries.
Beware the Curse of the Forgotten. It starts with whispers in the dark... and then they take you.
His fingers tightened around the pages. Whatever was happening, it was only just beginning.