— Nolan's POV —
I stayed at the hospital later than usual that night, finishing reports I didn't care about, reviewing files that had nothing to do with Room 13.
I didn't want to go home — not because I was scared, but because I felt… watched. Even when I was alone.
That wasn't new, not exactly.
I had always felt like someone was watching me — but over the past few months, it had gotten worse.
The sense of something just out of view. Like standing in a room you thought was empty, only to feel breath against your neck.
People around me had changed, too.
Friends stopped texting back.
A neighbor who once smiled at me every morning now looked through me like I didn't exist.
One of the interns who tried to befriend me just vanished from the ward roster a week later — no explanation.
It was easier to tell myself it was coincidence.
But lately... that felt like a lie I was repeating too often.
---
When I finally got home, I dropped everything by the door and headed straight to the shower — like I needed to scrub something off. The mirror fogged over quickly, but even with the steam clouding my vision, I couldn't stop glancing behind me.
I felt ridiculous.
By the time I lay in bed, I was exhausted.
And yet — sleep didn't feel restful.
---
The dream started like it always did.
A vast, dark space — no walls, no ceiling, no ground. Just endless black, stretching in all directions. I floated in it, barefoot, breathless, like a child lost in a void.
Then came the sounds.
Crying — soft at first.
Children. Wailing.
And then — screaming.
Blood-curdling, desperate screams that echoed too close to my ears.
I turned around — or maybe I didn't, because directions didn't exist here — but I felt something rush past me. Then hands. Dozens of them.
Bloody. Grimy. Grabbing.
They reached out from the shadows, from below, from behind — skeletal fingers brushing his arms, pulling at my legs, my clothes, my throat.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream. I didn't know who they were — just that they wanted me.
My heart pounded. My hands clawed at nothing. The darkness closed in—
And then, I woke up.
---
Sweating. Shaking. Gasping.
I sat up, chest rising and falling like I'd just run miles.
That dream.
The same one I used to have as a child.
It had haunted me for years… and then, without warning, it stopped.
Until now.
And worse than the screaming or the hands, was the strange ache of absence.
Because back then, in those dreams, I always felt like someone was with me.
Someone quiet. Someone watching over me.
Someone who made the nightmare bearable — just by being there.
I couldn't remember a face. Not even a voice.
Just the feeling — like a presence wrapped around him, holding the darkness back.
Now, that presence was gone.
Or maybe...
Maybe it had returned.
But closer than before.
The air in my room felt wrong.
Heavy.
Thick.
Like something had just been there. Something I couldn't see. Something that knew me.
I rubbed my eyes, willing the panic away. My rational mind tried to take over — stress, trauma, sleep disruption.
But none of those things explained the feeling that someone was still watching me.
And for the first time in years, I didn't want to close my eyes again.