The library was empty, but Elara could still hear the voices.
They slithered across the walls like shadows, too faint to understand, too clear to dismiss.
She pressed her palms against her ears. Not now… please, not now.
The whispers ignored her plea, curling around her like smoke:
"They see you… They will know…"
Elara staggered back, bumping into a shelf. A book tumbled to the floor with a loud thud. The sound echoed through the silent library, and she froze—heart pounding—praying no one had heard.
But footsteps approached.
It was Damian. His eyes narrowed as he spotted her clutching the fallen book, her hands trembling.
"You again…" he muttered, his voice low, suspicious. "Why are you always in the strangest places when something weird happens?"
Elara's lips parted, but no words came. The shadows still whispered, tugging at the edges of her control.
Before she could answer, another student entered the library—Lena. She stopped at the doorway, frowning as her eyes flickered between Elara and Damian.
"What's going on here?" Lena asked, suspicion thick in her tone.
For a moment, Elara thought about telling them the truth—that the voices weren't in her head, that they were real. But instead, she forced a weak smile.
"Just dropped a book," she whispered.
Damian didn't look convinced. His gaze lingered on her too long, as if trying to peel back her secrets.
Later that night, as Elara lay in her dorm room, the whispers returned—louder this time. But this time, she realized something terrifying.
They weren't just inside her head.
They were coming from the window.
And when she turned, she saw a shadowy figure watching her from the courtyard below.