Mia slept through the night.
Alex knew because he stayed awake long enough to hear the rhythm of it settle into something deep and steady. No restless shifting. No muttered words. No sudden jolts like the nights before.
At some point his own body gave up and followed her into sleep.
When he woke, sunlight was already spilling across the sheets.
It didn't feel hostile today.
It just… existed.
He lay there for a moment, letting the ordinary weight of morning press down on him. The ceiling fan turned lazily. Somewhere in the building, a shower ran. The world sounded like itself.
Mia rolled over, hair messy, eyes half-lidded.
''Morning,'' she mumbled.
''Morning.''
She blinked at him like she was checking for something.
Then she smiled.
''You look like you actually slept. Again.''
''I did.''
''Good,'' she said, and the word carried more relief than she meant to show.
They made breakfast together.
Not the careful, deliberate kind from yesterday. Something easier. Mia moved around him in the kitchen with a familiar rhythm, bumping his hip with hers when she passed, stealing a piece of toast off his plate like she had every right to it.
He let her.
He even felt himself smile without forcing it.
The day unfolded gently.
Mia had work for a few hours. Alex stayed home, edited a short clip from an older hike, answered a handful of comments. Nothing intense. Just enough to remind himself he still existed outside of fear.
When Mia got home she tossed her keys in the bowl by the door and said, ''Okay. We are doing something normal tonight.''
He raised an eyebrow.
''Define normal.''
''Food that isn't eaten over a laptop. A walk. Maybe a movie. Something that doesn't involve you staring at a wall like it owes you money.''
He laughed.
''Fine. Normal.''
She seemed pleased by how quickly he agreed.
They went out just before sunset, the sky washed in pale gold. The air had that mild, clean bite that made breathing feel better than it should. People were out in clusters, couples and families, runners with earbuds, a man walking two dogs that kept tangling their leashes.
Mia threaded her fingers through his as they crossed the street.
''You sure you're okay?'' she asked, casual on the surface.
He glanced at her.
''Yeah,'' he said. ''I think I am.''
She held his gaze a moment longer than usual, but this time, it was not because of doubt, but because of genuine happiness.
Then she nodded with a smile.
They grabbed food from a small place near the park. Nothing fancy, just something warm. They ate slowly, talking about stupid things.
A coworker drama Mia didn't care about. A comment thread Alex found weirdly funny. A new show she wanted to watch. A vacation they kept pretending they would plan.
It felt… easy.
That was the strange part.
Easy.
After dinner they walked through the park again.
The paths were wide, the trees tall, shadows stretching longer with the lowering sun. Kids played near a fountain. Someone strummed a guitar badly on a bench, but with enough confidence that no one minded.
Mia leaned into him as they walked.
''This is better, you are better.'' she said softly.
''Yeah.''
They both meant it.
Until now, he expected something to go wrong, something to happen that would prove the doctor wrong.
For the tightness behind his eyes. For the faint pressure inside his skull. For the world to tilt slightly off-center.
Yet... Nothing came.
Eventually his shoulders loosened without him noticing.
They reached an open lawn where the last of the sunlight lay across the grass like a blanket. Mia slowed, tilting her face up to the sky.
''We should do this more,'' she said.
''We will.''
He believed that one.
They sat on a bench near the edge of the path, watching the light fade. Mia pulled her phone out and took a quick photo of the sky, then nudged him.
''Smile.''
He did.
She snapped it.
''See?'' she said, showing him the screen. ''Normal. Proof.''
He looked at the picture.
Two silhouettes. Warm sky. A moment that looked like it belonged to someone else's life.
He handed the phone back.
''You happy?'' he asked.
She looked at him for a second, then nodded.
''I am,'' she said. ''I didn't realize how much I was holding my breath until it stopped.''
Something in his chest softened.
He turned his gaze back to the path.
That was when he noticed it.
The GoPro.
He had brought it without really thinking about it, clipped to the strap of his bag like it belonged there. Habit. Muscle memory.
Now the weight of it registered.
Mia followed his eyes.
''Planning to film again?'' she asked.
He hesitated.
''Maybe,'' he said. ''People keep asking. I… miss it.''
''You don't have to rush,'' she said carefully.
''I know.''
His fingers found the GoPro's edge through the fabric of the bag. The familiar plastic ridge under his thumb grounded him.
He could make something small.
A simple park vlog. A life update. Nothing underground. Nothing dark.
Just a reminder to himself and everyone else that he was still here.
He pulled the camera out and turned it over in his hands.
The screen stayed black for a second longer than it should have.
Then it lit up.
Battery full.
No warnings. No error messages.
He stared at the tiny live view: the park, Mia beside him, the sky fading behind the trees.
Everything looked calm amd peaceful.
Mia watched him.
''How do you feel?'' she asked.
He considered the question honestly.
''Better,'' he said. ''And… stupid. For being so scared.''
Her mouth twitched.
''Fear isn't stupid.''
''Mine might've been.''
He clicked the record button.
A small red dot appeared in the corner of the screen.
Mia relaxed slightly.
He pointed the camera toward himself, then toward her.
''Hey,'' he said, voice light, as if he were slipping into an old jacket. ''It's been a minute. I'm alive. I'm outside. No caves. You're welcome.''
Mia rolled her eyes, smiling.
''Tell them I fed you,'' she said.
''She did,'' he said to the lens. ''Kept me alive. Heroic behavior.''
They walked a little more while he filmed short clips. Nothing dramatic. Trees. Sunset. Mia laughing at him for narrating like an idiot. A fountain. A dog that almost stole his bag.
Normal footage.
And the more normal it was, the more his mind loosened.
By the time they headed home, the sky was darkening into deep blue and the park lights were turning on one by one, soft circles of yellow on the paths.
Mia bumped his shoulder gently.
''Proud of you,'' she said.
He looked at her.
''Yeah?''
''Yeah,'' she said. ''I know that took effort.''
He swallowed against a sudden tightness he didn't expect.
''Thanks.''
At home, Mia showered first.
Alex sat at his desk with the GoPro plugged into his laptop, transferring the park clips.
The file names appeared in a neat list.
He clicked through them quickly.
Sunset. Trees. Mia laughing. His own voice sounding almost like himself again.
He felt a small thrill.
A return.
Then he saw it.
One more file at the bottom of the list.
Older timestamp.
A long clip.
The file name wasn't helpful.
'Untitled – 02:17 AM'
He frowned.
This wasn't park footage.
This was the cave.
His stomach tightened slightly, but not with the old panic. More like… curiosity.
He remembered the notification from YouTube. The black thumbnail. The red dot.
He had deleted it.
Hadn't he?
He stared at the file.
Mia's voice carried faintly from the bathroom, muffled by running water.
He could ignore it.
He should ignore it.
But the last few days had made him feel brave again. Rational again. Like a man who could look at something and not fall apart.
And now there was proof.
Concrete. Digital. Not whispers. Not feelings.
Footage.
He hovered the cursor over the file.
His pulse thumped once, hard.
He clicked play.
The screen went black.
Not the normal black of a video starting.
A deeper black.
The kind that felt like it pressed outward from the monitor into the room.
Alex leaned closer without meaning to.
The audio came first.
Breathing.
Layered. Slow. Patient.
Then a faint scrape, like stone against stone.
The video remained black, but the time counter moved.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Alex's fingers curled against the edge of the desk.
Then the image cut in.
A tilted view of the cave floor, slick rock glistening in faint red light. The camera had fallen on its side. The lens was partially smeared, as if something wet had brushed it.
The sound was wrong.
Not distorted. Not glitchy.
Wrong in a way that made his teeth ache.
Something moved at the edge of the frame.
Not a person.
Not an animal.
A shape that refused to settle into one outline.
It moved like a shadow, but shadows didn't have weight. This did.
It slid across the rock without sound, and the red light seemed to recoil from it.
Alex's breath hitched.
In the footage, his own body lay half in view, crumpled on the stone. Helmet lamp dead. Limbs slack.
He watched himself not move.
Then the shadow leaned over him.
The air in Alex's bedroom felt colder suddenly.
In the video, the shadow did not touch his body.
It hovered close, and the darkness around it thickened, as if it were gathering something invisible into itself.
Alex's face on the stone twitched.
Not awake. Not conscious.
Just… responding.
A slow inhale that looked wrong, too deep, like his lungs were being pulled open from the inside.
Alex's hand on the desk trembled.
He tried to pause the video.
His finger missed the trackpad.
He tried again.
The cursor slid slightly, as if the screen had become slick.
In the footage, the shadow shifted.
And for the first time, the camera angle changed.
Not because the camera moved.
Because the world in the frame bent.
The cave walls seemed to stretch, elongating into angles that made Alex's eyes sting. Perspective pulled sideways. Depth became meaningless. The red glow thickened until it looked like liquid light.
The shadow straightened.It turned its head.
But... There was no face.
Nothing to recognize.
But the movement carried the unmistakable sensation of attention.
As if it had noticed the camera.
As if it had noticed him watching.
Alex's throat closed.
The shadow leaned closer to the lens.
The red light vanished.
For one heartbeat, the screen was absolute black again.
Then something like a line appeared.
Not a mouth.
Not an eye.
A cut in the darkness, opening.
Alex's skin prickled.
The cut widened.
And the sound that came through his speakers wasn't static.
It was a voice.
Not quite his.
Not quite anything human.
''Alex...''
His laptop speakers popped.
The screen flickered.
The room around him dimmed, not the light bulb, but the color itself, like someone had pulled a filter over reality.
Alex jerked back in his chair. The video kept playing.
On-screen, the darkness stared into him through the lens.
In the hallway, the bathroom door clicked open.
Mia stepped out with a towel around her hair, still humming.
She froze when she saw his face.
''Alex?''
He tried to speak.
No sound came out.
The humming stopped.
Mia took one step closer, eyes narrowing.
''What are you watching?'' she asked.
Alex turned the laptop slightly, shaking.
The screen was black again.
But the time counter still moved.
And from the speakers, soft as a breath, came the layered sound of something breathing that wasn't there.
Mia's eyes widened.
''Turn it off,'' she said, voice sharp now. ''Turn it off right now.''
Alex's hand reached for the trackpad.
The cursor didn't move.
The laptop didn't respond.
The breathing grew louder.
Behind Alex, somewhere in the apartment, the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then steadied.
Mia's hand went to her mouth.
''Alex…''
On the laptop screen, the blackness lightened just enough to show a shape.
Not the cave.
Not the floor.
The camera was no longer in the cave at all.
It was looking at them.
A grainy, tilted view of the apartment, of Alex at the desk, Mia standing behind him.
Like the GoPro lens was inside the room.
Filming.
Alex's stomach dropped.
He whipped his head around.
Nothing.
No camera.
No device.
Just the apartment.
But on the screen, the view remained.
Mia's face went pale.
''How…''
The laptop speakers crackled.
And this time, the voice came from inside the room, not the computer.
Close.
Too close.
''Alex.''
The world went still.
Not quiet.
Still.
Mia's breath froze in her chest. The air held itself.
Even the ceiling fan seemed to pause mid-turn.
Color drained from the walls, from Mia's skin, from the room itself, leaving everything washed in gray.
Alex tried to stand, but his legs didn't move.
His pulse hammered, but the sound didn't echo. Nothing echoed.
Mia's eyes were wide with a fear so pure it looked like shock.
She tried to reach him.
Her arm stopped halfway, suspended in the air like she'd hit invisible glass.
Alex's chest tightened.
He could move his eyes.
That was it.
In the gray stillness, the shadow unfolded near the corner of the room.
It did not step forward.
It was simply… there.
A presence taking shape where shape should not exist.
The edges of it blurred, bending the air around it. The light didn't fall on it. Light seemed to avoid it.
Alex's vision pulsed.
The shadow tilted.
Not curious.
Not hungry.
Recognizing.
Then it turned, slowly, toward Mia.
Mia's lips parted.
No sound came out.
Her eyes filled with tears without her blinking.
Alex fought against his body, against the paralysis gripping him.
Nothing.
He couldn't move.
He couldn't speak.
He couldn't even breathe properly.
The shadow leaned in, not touching, not yet.
And in the dead, drained world, Alex understood with perfect clarity:
This wasn't stress. This wasn't medicine. This wasn't his mind.
This was real.
And it was here.
The shadow's attention returned to him.
The corner of the darkness lifted slightly, like the beginning of a smile.
And the apartment lights died.