Chapter 119

The moon hung low over the forgotten streets. It had been hours since the sun had set, but the air held a strange warmth, as though the night had no intention of drawing in. At a bus stop in a neighborhood too quiet, too untouched, Nolan sat. His fingers drummed impatiently on the cold, metallic frame of the bench. He hated waiting.

The old streetlight flickered above him, casting weak light on the cracked sidewalk. His stomach twisted. He wasn't sure what had brought him out here tonight. Maybe it was the restless feeling gnawing at him all day. Maybe it was the weather. Maybe it was just life—always throwing these moments of strange unease at him, making everything seem off, like he wasn't in control.

He pulled out his phone and checked the time: 12:15 AM.

Damn, I should've just stayed home.

Nolan put the phone away. No calls, no messages. The night felt too silent, the air too still. Even the wind, usually so reliable, had died down. He stood up and stretched, legs aching. He was ready to go, but before he could move, he heard it.

Music.

Faint at first, but unmistakable. A melody—light, almost like a lullaby. Soft notes that rang through the empty street, making his skin crawl. It was coming from down the block.

Nolan froze. His feet refused to move.

It was the same song. The same one everyone heard just before things went wrong. He knew it well. He'd heard the stories. The ones people told in whispers, in bars, on bus rides. The story of the woman. The dancing woman.

She appeared on the streets, anywhere in the world, at random, right around midnight. No one knew where she came from or why she danced, but the rules were clear. If you saw her, you ran. Or you disappeared.

He felt a shiver creep down his spine, and despite every instinct telling him to stay away, his curiosity pulled him forward.

The melody grew louder, louder, until it consumed the air around him. Nolan moved toward it, drawn like a moth to a flame. The street was empty, just like before, but the music—it seemed so... real, so tangible.

Then, he saw her.

She stood in the middle of the street, beneath the light of a distant lamp. A woman, her long hair swaying in rhythm to the music. Her feet glided over the cracked pavement, one step, then another, as if she was floating just above the ground. Her movements were fluid, graceful, unnatural.

Nolan's breath caught in his throat.

It was her.

Her pale skin shimmered in the light, her eyes hollow pits of black. She was tall, too tall for any person he'd ever seen, and the way she danced... it wasn't human. It was something else. Something... wrong.

He took a step back, but his feet wouldn't obey. His heart beat faster. He couldn't look away. He could feel his body wanting to scream, but no sound came out.

She danced closer, her movements slow, deliberate. The music didn't stop. It seemed to vibrate through his chest, each note heavier than the last.

Run, his mind screamed.

But his legs wouldn't move. He couldn't move.

The woman stopped suddenly, her head tilting toward him. Her eyes—those empty, black eyes—locked onto his. Nolan's blood ran cold.

For a moment, everything went silent. The world itself seemed to hold its breath. She didn't speak, didn't make a sound. She only stared, her mouth curving into something that wasn't quite a smile. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, like the entire street was closing in on him.

She took a step toward him. The music echoed louder now, so loud he could barely think.

Nolan stumbled backward, his hands reaching for something, anything, but the ground seemed to stretch out farther than he could reach. His legs shook, his breath ragged, as the woman inched closer, her dance now a slow, methodical thing.

He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came. No sound, no air, just the weight of her gaze, the pull of that music.

Then, she stopped.

Her head jerked to the side, as if listening to something far off in the distance. Then, she started to turn, slowly, her feet dragging along the pavement. The music began to fade, but Nolan couldn't move. He felt paralyzed, unable to tear his eyes away from her retreating form.

For one fleeting moment, he felt relief. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she hadn't seen him. Maybe he could—

Her head snapped back to him, and for the first time, her smile stretched wide, wide enough to reveal teeth too sharp to be human.

And then, she was gone.

The air grew heavy again. Nolan couldn't breathe, couldn't feel his limbs. He felt cold, colder than the night had any right to be.

Then, everything fell silent again. No music. No streetlights. Just the sound of his ragged breath, his pulse pounding in his ears.

But it didn't matter.

He had seen her. He had looked into her eyes.

And now, his body felt... wrong. His legs were stiff, his vision darkening. He couldn't stay in one place anymore. The ground beneath him felt like it was spinning, and his hands pressed to the cold pavement, as if he was losing his connection to the world around him.

He tried to move, to run. But the world wouldn't let him.

His body felt like it was folding in on itself, shrinking, pulling away from his control. He gasped for air, but the air wasn't enough. He wasn't enough.

And then, in the distance, he heard it again.

The music. Soft, but there. Faint. It was far off, but it was unmistakable.

His skin crawled, the last bit of his mind screaming at him to move, to escape, but his body... no longer obeyed.

The streets seemed to twist, the buildings stretching impossibly high, the ground beneath him crumbling into a vast emptiness. He reached out, his fingers brushing at the edges of a world that wasn't his anymore.

Then, something caught his attention. His hand trembled as he touched his chest. He felt the cold. A deep, deep cold, like something hollow inside of him, something empty.

His body trembled, but not because of the cold.

The woman's music grew louder again, but Nolan didn't move. He didn't run.

His legs, stiff, began to crumble under him, his chest hollowing out, his body folding like a discarded coat. He could feel it—the last thread of his life slipping, unraveling, not even enough to leave a trace behind.

The music. It wouldn't stop.

He didn't fight. He didn't scream.

He was gone.

And the last sound Nolan heard before everything faded to nothing was the woman's laughter. Cold, hollow, and devoid of anything human.

And then the silence swallowed him whole.