The sky hung a heavy shade of gray, thick with clouds that promised an approaching storm, when Ari decided to visit her late grandfather's house. The old countryside home—abandoned for years—still held echoes of her childhood and secrets untold by time. She had heard fragmented whispers from her grandmother about a forbidden room: the Room of Shadows. What she did not know was that her footsteps that night would set in motion ends she could never have imagined.
She stepped inside. Dust blanketed every surface, and the air was dense with the scent of damp wood and forgotten days. The doors groaned in protest, as though waking from decades of slumber. Ari wandered from room to room until she reached the end of a dim corridor, where an ancient wooden door stood apart from the rest.
This one was different. Strange markings were carved deep into its grain, and a rusted latch sealed it shut.
Her heartbeat quickened. Curiosity pushed past her fear.
She whispered to herself, "Just a quick look… nothing more."
Slowly, she lifted the latch. The door opened with a long, living groan.
She entered cautiously. Moonlight filtered through torn curtains, illuminating a stone table at the center of the room. Atop it lay an ancient tome—its black, cracked cover sealed by an odd metallic lock.
But it wasn't an ordinary book. It pulsed.
"Is it… breathing?" she murmured, eyes wide.
A chill traced her spine. Faint whispers tickled her ears—ghostly, distant voices she could not understand. She approached the table, fingers trembling.
"Don't," something inside her warned.
Yet another voice answered, "You've come this far."
Her fingertips brushed the book's surface. Heat surged through her hand—raw, elemental energy. Then—click.
The lock snapped open by itself. The pages flipped wildly, as though searching for—and choosing—a reader.
At last, they stopped. The page was nearly black, inked with a single phrase in jagged script:
> "Open me… and see the world as you never have before."
A low hum resonated through the room. The floor trembled beneath her feet. The walls… breathed. Crimson sigils glowed from the shadows, spiraling across floor and walls. Silhouettes of creatures emerged from the darkness, circling her in a silent dance.
Ari stepped back, instinctively—but she did not feel pure fear. Instead, an odd pull drew her forward, as if part of her had waited a lifetime for this moment.
With newfound resolve, she pressed her hand against the darkened page. Black smoke burst from the book's spine; a sharp, otherworldly scream split the silence.
Then—darkness. Total.
In that void, a whisper—inhuman—brushed her ear:
> "You have been chosen, Ari."