{"You are not sleeping, are you?"
I jolted upright on my bed, the voice sharp, closer than a whisper, deeper than thought.
My eyes darted across the room. "Marek?"
He stepped from the darkness, slow, deliberate.
The moonlight licked at his silhouette, casting an unnaturally long shadow behind him.
His eyes found mine, smoky, unreadable.
"You left me hanging," he said, tone neutral but biting. "Again."
I blinked, pushing hair out of my face. "It's….. It's late. I'm tired. I didn't know you'd be..."
"Real?" He cut in, cocking his head. "Is that the word you're afraid of?"
My mouth went dry. "I didn't expect you to come out of the story."
"You didn't expect?" Marek moved closer. "You write me on purpose. Every detail, my scars, my rage, my hunger, you summoned me. Don't play dumb now."
"I…. I didn't summon anything!" I snapped. "I wrote! That's all!"
He chuckled darkly. "Writers like you…. You think ink is harmless. That fiction doesn't breathe, but you cracked the veil. And now, here I am."
I backed towards my desk instinctively. "So what? You are mad because I paused the chapter?"
"I'm not mad." His eyes bore into mine. "I'm starving."
I stopped moving. "What?"
Marek leaned in, his voice low. "Starving for resolution. For blood. For breath. For touch. You gave me a world that ends in the middle of a sentence."
My throat tightened. "I…. I can fix it. I'll keep writing."
He nodded slowly. "Good. Because if you don't…." He reached out, brushing a knuckle along my jaw. "I'll start writing it myself."
I flinched. "I'm the author."
"Are you?" Marek's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Then why does it feel like I am the one in control?"
There was silence.
The air thickened.
I turned sharply. "I'll write. Right now. I'll open the file."
I felt him watch me as I sat and opened my laptop with shaking fingers, while I pulled up the manuscript.
"Start from where you left me," he said. "at the edge of the forest."
I began to type.
The words came slowly, stiff, and cold.
I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck.
"No." His tone was harsh. "Not like that. That's not how I'd move. You know me better."
I paused. "You're... correcting me?"
"I'm guiding you," he said. "you can't pretend anymore. I'm not a puppet on strings, you gave me soul and I have taken root."
"I didn't mean to," I whispered.
"That's the thing with creation," He said. "Intent doesn't matter. Consequences do."
The screen flickered.
I turned. "Did you see that?"
Marek nodded. "The veil's thinning. You wrote me in but someone else followed."
I stopped, panicked. "Something else? What do you mean?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned his head slowly towards the window. "You didn't stop with just me, did you? You made a world full of monsters."
"Stop," I said, voice trembling. "You are scaring me."
"You should be scared, Elara," Marek's voice darkened. "Because tonight….. I'm not the only thing coming through."
Suddenly, the room grew colder.
The window creaked open by itself.
I stumbled back. "No. No, no, no…this isn't happening."
From the shadows outside, a long, pale hand with blackened nails pressed against the glass.
Marek's jaw clenched. "You wrote her too."
I shook my head frantically. "No! I deleted that arc! I never finished her!"
"But you thought of her, you named her. That's enough."
A low hiss echoed through the room like wind scraping bone.
I looked at Marek with terror in my eyes. "What do we do?"
"We survive," He said, stepping in front of me. "You finish my story, before she gets written in fully."
The door rattled violently.
Marek turned his head slowly. "She's already here."}
I screamed, as I sat up in fear from the bed.
It was a nightmare.
A dream.
But why did it feel so real?
****
"I'm not crazy, Fallon."
"No one said you were." Fallon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes flickering to the corner of Elara's dimly lit room. "But you are talking like he is real."
Elara's voice dropped. "He is."
Fallon scoffed. "Marek? The Marek you wrote? The fictional killer with god-complex vibes and a weird obsession with forest silence? That Marek? The one I have to pretend like he is stalking you in school because you said so, even if I haven't set my eyes on him before but only read about him? That same Marek?"
"He's not fictional anymore."
"Elara…" Fallon stepped forward. "That's not how writing works. You don't scribble someone into life."
"I didn't mean to."
"You can't"
"I saw him." Elara's voice was dead serious. "Not in a dream. Not in my mind. I saw him. Standing. Breathing. Watching me."
Fallon stilled.
"He spoke to me," Elara continued. "He knew things I hadn't written yet. He said I didn't just write him, I opened a door."
"Jesus, Elara!" Fallon rubbed her temples. "You haven't slept properly in days. Your brain is frying."
Elara turned her laptop towards her. "Then explain this."
On the screen was a new chapter.
One she hadn't written.
One that hadn't existed an hour ago.
Fallon read the first line aloud. "She thinks I don't see her panic. But I feed on it." She looked up slowly. "Is this supposed to be funny?"
Elara whispered, "I never typed that."
As if on cue, a new sentence appeared on the screen.
Typed. Slowly. Letter by letter:
"She's watching me now. But she's not the only one."
Fallon stumbled back. "What the helly….Elara, what is this?!"
"He's in the room."
"Stop!"
"I'm serious, Fallon."
"No. no. This is a prank. You downloaded some creepy app, or you autotyped this to fool me"
"He doesn't want you here."
Fallon blinked. "Excuse me?"
Elara stared at her. "He told me. You are too loud and you question too much."
"I'm your best friend!"
"And he doesn't like you."
"Then tell him to go back to whatever nightmare you dragged him from!"
Suddenly, the wardrobe creaked.
Both girls froze.
Fallon's voice shook. "Did you hear that?"
Elara didn't answer.
Her gaze was fixed on the mirror beside the wardrobe.
Fallon reached for the lamp. "I'm turning the lights on, I've had enough….."
"Don't," Elara whispered. "He's watching."
Fallon paused. "Through the mirror?"
Elara nodded.
Another creak.
Then, from the mirror, a voice like paper tearing:
"Elara….."
Fallon's scream died in her throat.
The lights blew out.
And the mirror…..
Cracked.