I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her—Seraphine—hovering over my house like a porcelain god stitched together from broken promises. The hum still rang in my skull, faint like a phantom sound. No one else on the street turned their lights back on. No sirens. No police. Just the stillness.
And the silence.
My phone was the only light in the room now. Still stuck on that same interface—no apps, no games, no contacts. Just a black screen and one thing at the bottom:
⏳ NEXT ARRIVAL: 23:17:42
It was counting down.
I curled up on the floor in a blanket, even though it was warm. Every noise made me flinch. Even the sound of my own breath felt too loud. She said silence would keep me safe. But now she was gone… right?
I must have dozed off eventually. I woke up to a new kind of silence—the kind where your ears strain, waiting to hear anything. The world outside was still dead. No cars. No birds.
But someone knocked on my door.
Not my front door.
My bedroom door.
I froze.
I live alone. My parents are divorced. My mom works night shifts in another prefecture. Nobody should be home.
The knock came again. Three times.
Soft.
Measured.
I didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Then a voice spoke. A girl's voice. Smooth. Hollow.
> "You heard the singing, didn't you?"
I couldn't speak. My throat locked. I grabbed my phone, praying it would buzz—do anything—but it stayed dead silent.
> "She doesn't leave cleanly," the voice said from behind the door. "Her echoes stain the places she sings. Like blood in the cracks."
My heartbeat was like thunder in my ears. I stood slowly and pressed my back against the wall, not taking my eyes off the door.
The voice grew quieter.
> "You heard her. That makes you marked."
Then it was gone.
No footsteps. No door opening. Just… gone.
I waited an hour before even approaching the door. When I finally opened it—trembling, still clutching the phone—there was no one there.
But there was something else.
On the floor was a single porcelain feather, warm to the touch. When I blinked, it was gone.
My phone buzzed.
---
WARNING: RESIDUAL ENTITY PRESENCE DETECTED
> REMAIN INDOORS
DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE HER VOICE
DO NOT FOLLOW HER FEATHERS
DURATION: UNKNOWN
---
I dropped the phone. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
999 entities were coming. But Seraphine wasn't done with me.
Some of them don't leave.
Some of them linger.
And some—like her—remember.