Alluring Shadows

The lady in the bathtub turned up to look into Ethan's eyes, her figure shrouded in a thick, eerie mist that clung to the air like a forgotten memory. As Ethan approached, he was struck by the uncanny resemblance she bore to his wife, yet there was something profoundly unsettling about her. Her skin glistened with a sheen of water, reflecting the dim light of the room, and her hair, long and dark, floated around her like tendrils of seaweed, giving her an almost spectral appearance. Her eyes, wide and glistening with unshed tears, seemed to hold a universe of sorrow within them, drawing him closer despite the growing sense of dread. "Don't touch me," she whispered shaking and sobbing, her voice a haunting melody that echoed in the silence, laced with an urgency that made Ethan's heart race. "My mom is around; she will get you."

Before he could comprehend the weight of her warning, she pushed him away with a strength that belied her fragile appearance, sending him sprawling to the cold, tiled floor. In that moment, his camera slipped from his grasp, the lens capturing the surreal tableau of fear and confusion as it clattered to the ground. He could feel the chill of the tiles seeping into his skin, but his attention was solely on the bathtub, now empty, the water swirling with remnants of her presence. The air felt thick with tension, and Ethan's mind raced as he tried to process what had just happened.

Stepping cautiously out of the room, a shiver ran down his spine. The corridor stretched before him, dimly lit by flickering bulbs that cast long, wavering shadows. Suddenly, he spotted another figure—a different woman, her presence both captivating and terrifying. She was slightly older, her long hair cascading down her back, tangled and wild. Clad in a flowing white dress that seemed to absorb the light around her, the fabric was stained with dark patches that looked alarmingly like blood. Ethan's heart raced as she approached, her movements slow yet deliberate, each step echoing with an unsettling calmness. "I need to get out of here," he thought, but his legs felt rooted to the spot as he watched her advance.

"Who are you?" he called out, desperation creeping into his voice. But she did not answer; instead, she continued her approach, her expression blank yet filled with an unsettling intensity. As she drew closer, Ethan's breath quickened, and he felt a primal instinct to flee. Panic surged through him, and he turned abruptly, bolting down the corridor, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. The sound of her footsteps echoed behind him, each thud growing louder, more ominous, as if she were gaining on him.

He glanced back, and his blood ran cold. The woman had transformed, her body elongating grotesquely. She towered over him, her height stretching to an unimaginable eight feet, her limbs twisting and bending in unnatural ways. Her arms, once slender, now appeared like gnarled branches reaching out towards him, fingers elongated into sharp, claw-like appendages. The blood-soaked dress clung to her form, and a gaping wound in her back oozed a dark, viscous liquid, pooling on the floor beneath her. Ethan's mind raced with disbelief and terror as he stumbled forward, propelled by sheer instinct.

As he reached the exit, he burst through the door into the night air, gasping for breath as he sprinted toward the safety of his hotel room. The cool breeze bit at his skin, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the hotel. He could feel her presence behind him, an invisible weight that pressed against him, urging him to run faster. He could hear her breath, ragged and strained, echoing in the silence of the night. "What the hell is this?" he questioned himself, the thought spiraling into a frenzy of panic.

Reaching the hotel, he slammed the main door shut, the sound reverberating through the stillness. The guard stationed nearby barely glanced up, dismissing his frantic demeanor with a wave of his hand. "Just another crazy tourist," Ethan imagined he thought. But he knew better; something was terribly wrong. He raced up the stairs, each step echoing his growing anxiety, and flung himself into his room, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that left him breathless.

Desperate for relief, he fumbled for his medication, his hands shaking as he swallowed the pills, hoping they would calm the tempest raging within him. But as he lay in bed, trying to quiet his racing heart, a shadow caught his eye outside the window. There, in the moonlight, stood a tall, shadowy figure, its head small and out of proportion with its elongated body. Long hair cascaded down its back like a dark waterfall, swaying gently in the night breeze. The wind howled outside, sending chills down his spine as he watched in horror

Ethan let out a shrill scream that echoed through the dimly lit hotel room, instantly alerting his friends. In a matter of moments, they flooded into the space, their faces a mix of concern and confusion, all clad in their undergarments. Trent burst in alongside a woman, who, equally startled and curious, was wrapped in a bathrobe. As they flicked on the lights, the source of Ethan's terror was revealed: a streetlight outside, its base entwined with vines that swayed in the breeze, resembling hair that danced in the air. A wave of regret washed over Ethan as he realized he had screamed for nothing; his pills lay scattered on the table, a reminder of his fragile state of mind.

In a desperate attempt to cover his fear, he muttered something about a massive monitor lizard that had scurried away when the lights came on. The woman who had entered with Trent eyed him skeptically, her voice barely a whisper as she remarked in Bahasa Indonesia, "A monitor lizard would not have climbed that high." Ethan's heart raced; the fact that he understood her words sent a chill down his spine. Trent, oblivious to the tension, leaned down to kiss her forehead, a playful gesture that sent them both giggling back to his room, while the others returned to their own quarters. "Sleep well, Ethan!" Mark called out as he closed the door behind him, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts.

As the door clicked shut, Ethan's gaze was drawn to the streetlight outside. To his horror, he saw it twist unnaturally, the top part turning to face him. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was not merely a streetlight but the woman who had pursued him from the abandoned hotel. Panic surged through him. "What the fuck, she followed me here!" he muttered under his breath, dread pooling in his stomach. Suddenly, the figure's head crashed against his window, the sound reverberating through the room as it knocked multiple times, each thud threatening to shatter the glass. Trembling in fear, Ethan pressed himself against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest.

The relentless bumping intensified, and he watched in horror as blood began to seep from the creature's head, staining the window pane. With each impact, Ethan felt his resolve waver. The noise stopped abruptly, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Summoning his courage, he opened his eyes, only to find the creature standing before him, its tall frame bending to fit within the confines of his room. It advanced toward him, leaving a trail of bloody prints on the floor. As it drew closer, Ethan noticed its eyes—white and devoid of irises or pupils, framed by dark veins that snaked across its face.

"Stay away from my home, colonizer!" it hissed in a macabre, sinister voice that sent a jolt of terror through Ethan's body. Before he could muster a response, the creature vanished, taking with it the bloody prints and any trace of its presence. Yet, the room was left with a lingering stench of blood and decay, a haunting reminder of the encounter. Ethan stood frozen, grappling with the reality of what had just transpired, his heart racing as he tried to comprehend the horror that had invaded his sanctuary. The night was far from over, and the shadows seemed to whisper secrets that only he could hear.