By the time she reached her flat, the London sky had thickened with clouds, hinting at more rain. The narrow building stood between two older brick structures. Its facade looked ordinary, yet shadows clung to it unnaturally, stretching like black fingers across the stone walls. The shadows seemed… aware, like they were waiting for her to step inside.
It was as if the building itself had… knowledge of her arrival.
Adaeze climbed the stairs slowly, each step groaning under her weight. With every creak, she imagined a presence, silent and observing, following her up the narrow hallway. Not imagined. Something unseen followed, bending the air around her.
Inside, the flat smelled of disinfectant and something faintly metallic. Sparse furniture sat in dull order. The air was cold and still, pressing against her skin. She set her suitcase down, the echo sounding louder than it should, and tried to steady her breath.
Then came the first whisper.
"Adaeze…"
She froze, every nerve on fire. The whisper came from all directions at once, some of it almost inside her mind.
Even the walls seemed to breathe, holding something just beyond vision.
No one. Just the shadows, pooling unnaturally along the walls.
Her pulse raced. She took another step, then another. A faint draft brushed her arm, yet the windows were shut. The air itself seemed alive, pulling and pressing as if the flat had layers she couldn't yet see.
"Just my imagination," she muttered. But the whisper returned, closer now, low and coaxing:
"Adaeze…"