24:THE UNFAMILIAR PRESENCE
Ivy was suddenly pulled out of her spiraling thoughts by a sharp, loud bark echoing through the still night. Her heart skipped a beat, and her head snapped toward the direction of the sound. It was Toby. The small Shih Tzu puppy's frantic barking pierced through the otherwise quiet house. Startled and shaken, Ivy quickly swung her legs off the bed, her mind racing. Something was clearly wrong.
"What's going on, Toby?" she muttered to herself, as if expecting an answer. The urgency in Toby's barks was unlike anything she had heard before. Gripping the edge of her bed tightly for a moment to steady herself, Ivy sprang to her feet and bolted towards the door.
The hallway was dimly lit, the faint moonlight barely seeping through the curtains. The cool night air brushed against her skin as she hurried down the stairs, her bare feet padding softly against the smooth wood. The faint rustling of the night breeze outside mingled with the sound of Toby's escalating frenzy.
As she descended the staircase, Ivy's breath caught in her throat. Toby was running wildly back and forth across the living room, his small frame darting between furniture. His fur was puffed up, and his tail, usually wagging joyfully, was stiff and alert. He barked repeatedly, his tiny voice shrill and panicked, almost as if he was trying to warn her of something.
Toby's frantic state made Ivy's pulse quicken. "Toby, what is it, boy?" she called out, her voice trembling. But Toby didn't stop. His paws skidded slightly as he turned toward the large window that overlooked the garden. With his ears pinned back and his barks growing sharper, he leapt at the window, his small claws scraping at the glass.
Alarmed, Ivy's eyes darted to where Toby seemed so focused. She squinted through the dim light, her heart hammering in her chest. Outside, the garden looked peaceful under the silver glow of the moon, the flowers swaying gently in the cool breeze. The faint rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets painted a serene picture, yet the tension in the air was palpable.
And then, she saw it—a fleeting shadow that zipped past the window. It was so fast that Ivy almost doubted her own eyes, but the shape was unmistakable. The figure was humanoid, its movements swift and deliberate. It dashed across the garden, disappearing into the shadows before Ivy could even process what she had just seen.
A chill ran down her spine. "What was that?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. Her hands trembled slightly as she edged closer to the window, her eyes scanning the garden for any sign of movement. The night breeze blew through the small gap in the windowpane, brushing against her face and sending a shiver down her body. It carried with it the scent of freshly cut grass, mingled with the faint fragrance of flowers—a stark contrast to the unsettling feeling creeping over Ivy.
Toby's barking grew louder and more insistent as if he, too, had seen the figure. He darted between Ivy and the window, his small body trembling with nervous energy. Ivy knelt down beside him, placing a shaky hand on his back. "It's okay, Toby," she said softly, though she wasn't entirely sure she believed her own words.
Her eyes flickered back to the garden, scanning the shadows for any sign of the figure. The stillness of the night only amplified her unease. The trees swayed gently in the wind, their long shadows dancing across the lawn. But there was no sign of the figure now—just the calm, haunting silence of the night.
Ivy's mind raced with questions. Who—or what—was that? Why were they running past the house at such a speed? And why did Toby react so frantically? She bit her lip, her thoughts clouded with worry and fear. For a moment, she considered waking Liam but she hesitated. What would she even tell him? That she saw a fleeting shadow that might not have even been real?
Her heart pounded in her chest as she stood there in the living room, holding onto Toby as if his presence could somehow protect her. The air was thick with tension, the earlier serenity of the night replaced by an undercurrent of dread. Ivy couldn't shake the feeling that something was out there, watching, waiting.
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