Hannah stirred restlessly in her bed as a cold sensation brushed against her cheek. For a fleeting moment, she could have sworn someone—no, something—was gently stroking her face. A paralyzing fear gripped her so tightly that she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. Whatever waited in the dark beside her… she didn't want to see it. It felt safer to pretend—to stay ignorant, shielded by the veil of sleep and denial.
"I miss you, Hannah…" a whisper echoed softly through the room, curling along the walls like smoke. The voice was both tender and horrifying, impossibly close yet distant. "As deep as his longing is… go to him… and let him come closer."
Tears spilled from beneath her tightly shut eyelids, sliding down her temples. The air grew heavier, infused with a suffocating dread that settled deep in her lungs. An unnatural cold spread across the room like a tide, seeping into her skin.
Then came another touch—an icy caress over her hair, tender yet deeply wrong. Her muscles locked. Every nerve screamed as her body curled instinctively inward, trying to shield itself from the invisible presence that haunted her nights.
She had reached her limit.
With a burst of desperation, Hannah threw off the quilt and stumbled from the bed. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Barefoot, clad only in her pajamas, she fled the room like a hunted animal. The hallway was dim, cloaked in the eerie silence of the sleeping dormitory, but she didn't stop to think. She ran—up the stairs, down the corridor—driven by instinct.
Her fists pounded against the door of the boys' dormitory, wild and relentless. She didn't care who she woke. She needed him. Somewhere in the pit of her soul, she believed he held the key to everything—the nightmares, the whispers, the memories that never belonged to her.
The door cracked open. Jimmy's groggy face appeared in the gap, eyebrows raised in sleepy confusion. Before he could say a word, Hannah shoved past him and strode into the room. Her eyes swept across the boys until they landed on Jin.
He was sitting up in bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His face stiffened the moment he saw her.
"Hannah…?"
She dropped onto the edge of his mattress, pale and trembling, her breath uneven.
"Why do I feel safer around you?" she whispered, her voice strained and brittle. "You're the only person I want to see when I feel like this."
Jin stared at her, stunned by the rawness in her voice—the sheer terror in her expression.
"What's going on?" he asked softly. "You're shaking… Did someone do something to you?"
"It's that room," she said, her voice breaking. "The one I've been staying in. It's… wrong."
Jimmy, now fully awake, glanced around the room and frowned. His gaze landed on Joseph's bed—empty.
"Did you talk to anyone? The teachers? The principal?"
She nodded shakily. "The supervisor tried. But the director says there aren't any free rooms. All he offered was a roommate—to keep me company, to keep me 'distracted' from the jokes." Her voice lowered. "But it's not just the jokes. It's something else. Something worse."
Tom leaned forward, drawn in, eyes wide with unease.
"What do you mean?" Jin asked, lowering his voice.
"You'll think I'm insane," she whispered, "but I hear voices. Whispering. Always at night. Cold fingers brushing my skin. And every time… it mentions you."
Tom's eyes darted toward the darkened corners of the room, as if expecting the entity to materialize.
"This thing… whatever it is… keeps telling me to come to you. That you miss me. That I should let you in."
Jin's expression faltered. The words hit him like a blow.
"Hannah…" he said quietly, "it's like you were erased from your own past. Like I was wiped clean from your memories."
She looked at him then, really looked. And though her mind screamed for rational explanations, her heart ached with the weight of recognition she couldn't explain. Dreams haunted her—echoes of emotions she couldn't place. A sense of loss for something she never remembered having.
"I know it sounds insane," she murmured, glancing at the others, "but I think this entity… it knows the truth about us."
The room fell into a thick, suffocating silence.
Then Tom shrieked—a sharp, piercing sound that shattered the tension. He dove under his blanket like a frightened child, peeking out with wide, horrified eyes.
"Shut up, you idiot!" Jimmy hissed. "You'll wake up the whole dorm!"
He was too late. A loud knock thundered at the door. Panic surged through the room like a current.
"Hannah," Jin said urgently, reaching for her hand. "Get into Joseph's bed. Cover yourself. Pretend to be him. Quickly!"
Without a word, she obeyed. Her heart raced as she slipped under the blanket, curling into a tight ball beneath the covers.
The knocking turned aggressive. A gruff voice threatened to fetch the master key.
Jin threw open the door to reveal a stern-faced guardian glaring into the room.
"What the hell is going on in here?" the man barked.
"Sorry," Jin said smoothly. "Tom had a nightmare. He's been talking in his sleep all week, but this was the first time he screamed."
The guardian's gaze shifted to Tom, who nodded from under the blanket.
"I can't control my dreams!" he snapped. "It was terrifying! I hate ghosts!"
"Watch your tone," the man warned, then turned to glance at Joseph's bed. "Why's he not moving? He is dead or what?"
"He's just pissed," Jimmy replied coolly. "He gets violent if we try to wake him up. Safer to leave him be."
The guardian lingered a moment longer, suspicion tightening his brow, before finally grunting, "Tell him to report to me in the morning."
With that, he left.
Jin closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling a long, quiet breath.
"You almost got us all caught," he muttered.
"I told you it was a nightmare," Tom grumbled, pulling the blanket over his head. "I can't control what I dream!"
"Good thing Joseph wasn't here," Jimmy added, glancing at the girl slowly emerging from beneath the covers. "He would've made it hell for everyone—especially you."
"Speaking of Joe…" Jin said, looking at the empty bed. "Where the hell is he?"
Jimmy shrugged. "He disappears a lot. Doesn't say where. I don't ask."
The unease didn't fade. If anything, it deepened—thick and unresolved, like a storm gathering just beyond the edge of dawn.
*
Every word the teacher uttered felt like a heavy weight pressing on Hannah's eyelids. A sleepless night and the drone of a monotonous lecture combined into a lullaby of misery. The sixteen-year-old struggled to keep her head up, her body fighting a losing battle against exhaustion. She no longer cared about the consequences; the pull of sleep was too strong. Let the teacher glare—she hardly noticed the way his narrowed eyes bore into her, silently warning her of impending punishment.
Eventually, her body gave in. She drifted off and lost her balance, nearly tumbling from her chair onto the floor. Jolted awake, she sat up with a start, only to find the teacher standing over her, arms folded tightly across his chest, his expression carved from stone.
"Must I remind you that you're sitting at the front?" he snapped coldly. "This seat is meant for the diligent. Since you seem to prefer napping, perhaps the back of the room would suit you better."
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again," she murmured, eyes lowered in shame. It was rare for any teacher to scold her in front of the entire class, and the embarrassment stung far more than she had expected.
Still, something wasn't right. Despite her efforts to stay alert, a strange force seemed to drain the very life from her limbs. Her body felt heavy, her thoughts sluggish. It was more than fatigue—it was as if something unseen was siphoning her energy, devouring her from the inside.
She blinked slowly, watching the teacher's face blur and refocus as he continued his lecture. He looked at her with open disdain now, clearly angered that she hadn't responded to his scolding the way he'd wanted.
"Are you trying to prove that my class is so boring it puts you to sleep?" he asked sharply.
A strange dizziness overtook her. And then, as though waking from another dream, she lifted her eyes and stared straight at him. Her voice rang out, unfiltered and bold.
"Yes. The lesson is as dull as tripe in oil. But you—you're like tripe without oil. Even duller."
The class fell silent. She raised an eyebrow and casually gestured with her fingers, showing exactly where he ranked in her opinion. A smirk played at her lips.
"I hope a visit to the principal's office proves more exciting for you," he spat. "You should know the way by now."
With a loud scrape of chair legs against the floor, she stood up defiantly, tossing him a contemptuous glance before walking out. The door slammed behind her, echoing down the hallway.
Once outside the classroom, she paused. Her mind was a blur, and she couldn't recall which way led to the principal's office. But then her confusion melted away as she caught sight of a familiar figure down the corridor—Jin.
He stood near the end of the hallway, flipping through papers. Her eyes lit up.
"Jinnie!" she called out joyfully.
He looked up, startled, his eyes widening at the sound of the nickname. Did she just…?
"Hannah?" His voice trembled slightly. He swallowed hard as she ran toward him.
She threw herself into his arms, giggling softly against his shoulder, clinging to him as if her life depended on it.
"I acted selfishly… I'm sorry," she whispered.
He hesitated, hands hovering near her waist. Then he tried to gently push her back, needing to see her face, to read her expression. But she only clung tighter, nestling her cheek against his chest.
"What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"
"I just realized how horribly I've treated you," she said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Jin. I'll make it up to you. I want to make you happy."
Jin's heart pounded. None of this made sense. He grasped her shoulders and held her at arm's length, searching her eyes.
"Hannah… did you remember something?" he asked, voice trembling.
She smiled gently and reached up to caress his cheek. "I could never forget you. You've always been in my heart."
The words struck him like a bolt of lightning. He recoiled slightly, stunned. "What?"
Around them, other students stopped and stared. Whispers began to spread like wildfire. The school's top student—so serious, so reserved—was wrapped in the arms of a freshman? What was happening?
"I'm here to win you back," she said, her voice unwavering.
Jin stepped back, disbelief washing over his face. "What kind of game are you playing, Hannah?"
She tilted her head, a knowing half-smile dancing on her lips. "You should be happy. Leave behind all the pain I caused you."
"You're joking, right?" His voice rose, and her brow furrowed.
He turned, ready to walk away—but she stopped him. Reaching up on her toes, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.
Gasps echoed down the hall. Students stared in shock, exchanging stunned glances. Some were scandalized. Others intrigued. But all were utterly baffled by her boldness.
And then her lips curled into a smile, as if everything was falling perfectly into place.
They had to be together.
But just as quickly, the trance broke. Hannah's eyes snapped open, and reality came crashing in. She stumbled back from him, horror spreading across her face.
What am I doing?
Mortified, she took another step away. Her heart raced. Her face burned with shame. She couldn't understand what had come over her.
From the shadows, Joseph watched everything unfold. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, his jaw stiff with rage. His breathing quickened, and his gaze darted around the hallway, searching for control he no longer felt.
Without a word, he turned and stormed away in the opposite direction.