Lalin ran with all her might, her feet barely touching the ground. Fear gnawed at her chest, stealing her breath in ragged gasps. Yet no matter how many doors she shoved open, no matter how many corridors she turned into, the whisper clung to her—like a shadow that refused to let go.
"Lalin… Lalin…"
The voice was faint, wavering, as though seeping through a fracture between worlds she could not see. It slipped past the crumbling brick walls, wove itself into the black corners of cupboards, and seeped straight into her heart.
Sweat streamed down her temples. She froze in the middle of the abandoned hall, the flickering neon lights above sputtering as if they were dying. Her trembling shadow wavered across the damp, cold floor.
"Who's there…" Her voice quivered as she clutched her chest. "Show yourself!"
Suddenly, a gust of cold air swept past. The darkness at the corner of the hall rippled—shifting, gathering—until it formed a dim, human-like shape… faceless, formless. The whisper rose again, now so close it was as though it brushed against her ear.
"At last… you can hear me…"
Lalin's heart pounded so violently it felt as though it would shatter. Her legs locked in place, frozen—unable to flee any longer.