Alex woke before the alarm, the room still wrapped in gray. Mia lay curled on her side, one arm flung across the pillow, breathing deep and even.
The phone on the nightstand remained face-down, exactly where he'd left it. He hadn't touched it since the notification came through.
He lay there for a while, listening to the soft mechanical whir of the ceiling fan, trying to decide whether the silence inside his head was peaceful or simply watchful.
Eventually he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her, and padded to the kitchen in yesterday's hoodie. The floorboards were cold against his bare feet.
He started the coffee maker and stood at the counter while it gurgled, staring through the window at the parking lot below. Trees stood bare and patient. Just another February morning. Nothing looked out of place. Nothing felt wrong either, not exactly.
Mia appeared maybe twenty minutes later, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep. She came up behind him without a word and wrapped both arms around his waist, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades.
''Morning, cave gremlin,'' she mumbled.
He covered her hands with his own. ''Morning.''
She stayed like that for a moment, then kissed the back of his neck and let go to start the toast. He watched her move around the small kitchen.
The absent way she pushed hair out of her face with her wrist, the little off-key hum that always came with making breakfast. Everything ordinary. Everything the way it should be.
When she handed him the plate their fingers brushed. The kitchen light flickered once, not the bulb itself, but something subtler, as though the color of the room had dimmed for half a heartbeat and then snapped back.
Mia didn't react. She was already telling him about the weird dream she'd had involving a giant cat and a tax return.
He nodded, smiled, took a bite of toast. The bread tasted normal. Everything tasted normal.
Work passed in a flash. He sat at his desk editing last week's climb footage, cutting the staged jump-scares, adding captions that made him sound braver than he felt.
The comment section was already buzzing, with people asking when the next deep dive would drop, someone leaving heart-eyes under a still of him grinning in a tight squeeze. He almost laughed, but the sound caught somewhere in his throat.
At lunch he stepped outside for air. The parking lot was quiet except for the low idle of a delivery truck. He leaned against the brick wall and closed his eyes, letting the weak winter sun warm his face.
When he opened them something shifted at the corner of his vision. A tall, thin shadow standing just beyond the edge of the building.
He turned, but there was... Nothing. Just brick, a dumpster, and the usual stretch of asphalt.
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.
''Come on, not again…'' he muttered. A faint trace of déjà vu brushed past him, gone before he could catch it.
Back at his desk his fingers felt clumsy on the keyboard, as though they were moving through water. He kept typing anyway.
By evening Mia was already home. Soft acoustic music drifted from the living-room speaker. She was dancing, nothing grand, just a gentle sway of the hips while she chopped vegetables at the counter.
''Perfect timing,'' she called when she heard the door. ''Stir-fry night.''
They ate on the couch with their legs tangled under a blanket. She leaned against his shoulder and scrolled through her phone, showing him memes, laughing at the ones that weren't even that funny.
He laughed with her. But the unease stayed. Quiet, persistent, sitting just behind his ribs no matter what he did.
At one point she reached for the remote and her sleeve slipped up, revealing the small scatter of freckles on her forearm he'd always liked tracing with his fingertip.
For a second the room went completely silent. Not quiet, but silent. He could see her mouth moving, see the smile tugging at the corner of her lips, but no sound reached him. The world had simply switched off its audio track for him alone.
Then everything snapped back. Mia turned toward him, still smiling.
''Isn't that right, my dear?''
He blinked once, hard. Then he reached for her hand and nodded.
Later, in bed, she curled into him the way she always did.
''You've been quiet tonight,'' she said softly, tracing lazy circles on his chest.
''Just thinking.''
''About the cave?''
''Yeah. Something like that.''
She kissed his collarbone. ''It's okay to be rattled. That place sounded awful. But you're home now. You're safe. I'm with you.''
He swallowed. ''I know. You always are…''
She fell asleep first, her breathing slowing into the familiar rhythm.
He lay awake, watching the blades of the ceiling fan turn in slow circles.
The whispers were there again, not loud enough to be words, just the faintest breath at the back of his mind. Patient. Waiting for the right moment.
Eventually sleep took him, reluctant and thin. Then the dream followed.
Total darkness.
He stood on something warm and wet. A metallic smell filled his nostrils; the air felt heavy, thick even. With slow, reluctant motion he looked down.
Blood.
It lapped at his ankles, thick and almost black in the absence of light. The surface rippled like it had a slow heartbeat of its own.
He tried to step back. His feet refused.
The blood rose to his calves, knees, thighs, waist, chest. Heavy. Clinging. Pulling him down.
A voice called his name.
'Alex…'
Soft. Almost tender.
The liquid kept rising.
'Alex…'
Louder now. Angrier.
It reached his chin. He opened his mouth to scream and tasted copper.
'ALEX!!!'
The voices multiplied, overlapping, screaming from every direction at once.
He woke with a choked shout, bolting upright, chest tight, sweat soaking through his shirt.
Mia jerked awake beside him.
''Alex?''
She sat up fast, hands already on his shoulders.
''Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay.''
He was shaking so hard the bed creaked.
''Sorry,'' he rasped. ''Nightmare. Sorry.''
She didn't let go. She pulled him gently back down, guiding his head to her chest, one hand stroking his hair in slow, steady strokes.
''Breathe with me,'' she whispered. ''In… out…''
He tried. Her heartbeat thumped steadily under his ear.
''You're safe,'' she murmured. ''You're home. It was just the cave messing with your head. It'll pass. I've got you.''
She kept holding him until his breathing matched hers.
''I love you,'' she said quietly.
''Love you too.''
She drifted back to sleep.
But he didn't.
He lay there in the dark, eyes open, listening.
The whispers were still there, louder than yesterday, yet softer than in the dream. One of them curled at the very back of his mind like someone breathing just behind his ear.
Calling.
Alex…
.
.
.
The End