Aarav hadn't slept all night. The shadowy figure's whisper from yesterday echoed in his mind, louder with each passing hour. Every time he blinked, every flicker of light, every distant sound seemed amplified, like the world itself was conspiring against him.
The object from Chapter 3 sat on his desk, humming faintly. Aarav reached out to touch it again. The instant his fingers brushed the cold surface, he felt a sharp jolt of energy, as if the object were alive, aware of him. Memories, or maybe visions, flashed—fragmented images of places he didn't recognize, faces he couldn't name, and symbols glowing like fire in the darkness.
A sudden whisper made him freeze.
"You shouldn't have seen me…"
Aarav's reflection in the mirror rippled unnaturally. Then he saw it—another pair of eyes staring back from within his own reflection, cold, piercing, and terrifyingly familiar. His stomach turned. He tried to look away, but the eyes followed him. Every blink, every breath, every movement—they were synchronized with him, as if they were part of him… or controlling him.
He staggered back, almost knocking over the object. It rolled across the floor and stopped in the corner, pulsing faintly. The symbol etched on its surface seemed to shift slightly, changing shape as if alive. Aarav realized the object was reacting to his fear, feeding on it.
Then came the sounds: a low scratching from the walls, like fingernails scraping against metal, mixed with soft, almost musical whispers he couldn't understand. Some words were his own name, others were warnings:
"You're already inside…"
"Look behind you…"
"It's watching."
Aarav's heart pounded. He stumbled toward the door—only to freeze. The doorknob was slowly turning, but the door hadn't been touched. He called out, voice trembling:
"Who's there?"
Silence.
A faint cold breeze brushed his neck, though the window was tightly shut. The lights flickered violently, casting long, jagged shadows across the room. The symbol on the wall glowed faintly, stretching into shapes that seemed almost alive, almost… reaching for him.
Suddenly, a shadow moved across the room—but not a human shadow. It slithered along the floor, stretching unnaturally, curling like smoke. Aarav could feel it creeping toward him, yet when he turned, the space was empty. Only the symbol and the object pulsed, syncing with the shadows' eerie rhythm.
Then, a voice—both familiar and alien—echoed in his head:
"…You've been warned, Aarav. Now it's too late."
Aarav's breath caught. He felt trapped between reality and something else—something older, darker, and far beyond his understanding. His chest tightened. His mind screamed at him to run, to hide, but his legs refused to obey.
A faint movement in the corner of the room drew his gaze. The shadowy figure from Chapter 4 appeared, more defined than before. Its head tilted slowly, deliberately. Its eyes—void-black, endless—pierced into his soul.
And then it spoke…
"…You belong to the Abyss now."
Aarav's scream caught in his throat as the room went pitch black. Not a flicker of light, not a sound—only the pulsing glow of the symbol illuminating the darkness around him.
He realized the truth—he was no longer alone, and nothing in his life would ever be the same again.