Istanbul, Turkey.
The city had always been alive — a sprawling metropolis, buzzing with life, culture, and history. The sounds of the streets were a constant hum, like a living organism with its pulse steady and unyielding. But beneath that constant din, something else thrummed — a darkness that had taken root in the city's oldest neighborhoods.
It started as a rumor, like all things in Istanbul. Whispers in the back alleys, half-spoken warnings from old women sitting on their stoops. People were disappearing.
---
Elif Aksoy, a young architect and a recent transplant from the quieter towns of the east, had been working in the heart of Istanbul's historic district. She was drawn to the city's architecture — the old mosques, the crumbling Ottoman buildings, the maze of narrow streets that twisted like a labyrinth through time. But recently, her work had taken her to a different kind of building — an old, decrepit mansion on the edge of the Bosphorus.
The mansion had been abandoned for decades, a decaying remnant of a bygone era. But it was to be renovated. The owners, a wealthy family from abroad, had acquired the property with plans to turn it into a boutique hotel.
Elif had been tasked with overseeing the design work. But something was wrong with the mansion.
At first, it was just little things. Strange drafts that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. The feeling of being watched. A sense that the air itself was thick with something unspoken, something ancient. But then, the disturbances became more frequent.
Doors that wouldn't open. Rooms that seemed to shift when she wasn't looking. Lights that flickered on and off without explanation.
And then, one night, as she worked late into the evening, she saw it.
A shadow, darting across the hallway, too quick for her to fully comprehend. At first, Elif thought it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, the result of too many hours spent alone in the decaying building.
But the shadow returned. And it grew stronger.
The next time she saw it, it wasn't fleeting. It was a silhouette — a tall, dark shape that moved with an eerie, unnatural grace. It hovered at the edge of her vision, always just out of reach, but always there.
Her heart pounded as the shadow seemed to grow, its form shifting and twisting, as if it were struggling to take shape. The air grew colder, and the feeling of being watched intensified, as though the mansion itself was alive and aware of her presence.
In the weeks that followed, the disturbances escalated. Elif began to feel as if she were losing her grip on reality. The shadow seemed to follow her wherever she went, always just out of sight, always waiting for her to turn around.
And then, one night, after she had left the mansion late, she saw something she could not explain.
A woman, standing at the entrance of the building. She was draped in a flowing white gown, her face obscured by the veil she wore. Elif felt her pulse quicken as she approached the figure, unsure of whether it was a hallucination or something real.
When the woman spoke, her voice was a soft whisper, barely audible over the wind.
"Leave." The woman's words were as cold as ice, as if they came from the depths of some forgotten grave.
Elif took a step back, but the woman's eyes were now visible — hollow, black pits that seemed to swallow the light.
"It's not yours to take," the woman continued, her voice growing more insistent. "The city has always belonged to us."
Before Elif could respond, the woman vanished into the night, her figure melting into the shadows of the mansion's entrance.
That was the moment Elif knew she could not stay. The city, the mansion, the shadow — they were all connected. And it was clear that the darkness that had once been buried beneath Istanbul's streets was now awake.
She fled the mansion, leaving behind her work and her dreams of a life in the city. As she crossed the Bosphorus Bridge, the feeling of being watched never left her. Even as she reached the safety of the other side, she knew the city's shadow still followed her.
---
In the years that followed, the mansion was never renovated. It fell into further decay, becoming a forgotten relic of the past. But occasionally, a curious traveler would stumble upon it. Some would say they heard whispers in the night. Others would report seeing a tall, dark figure in the window.
The shadow still waits, watching the city.