The Thing Beneath the Skin

Ethan sat up in bed, his breath still ragged from the dream. His heart hammered against his ribs, but his body felt strangely… heavy. The room was dark, the only sound the slow, steady tick of the wall clock.

Something wasn't right.

His hands clenched the sheets, a prickling sensation spreading beneath his skin. Slowly, he pulled up his shirt.

The mark had changed.

What had once been a thin, black symbol near his ribs had grown, stretching like creeping veins across his side. The lines pulsed faintly, almost as if they were alive.

Panic coiled in his chest.

It's waking up.

The girl's words from the dream echoed in his head. He swallowed hard.

He needed answers. And fast.

Ethan threw on his jacket and grabbed the book from the bedside table. Clara and Eleanor were still asleep, their breaths slow and steady. He hesitated for a moment, but something in his gut told him that time was running out.

Quietly, he slipped out of the room and into the dimly lit hallway of the inn. The air was cold, and the wooden floor creaked softly under his feet. He moved toward the staircase, but then—

A sound.

A whisper.

Not the usual eerie voices that seemed to follow him. No, this was different. Closer.

Someone was breathing behind him.

Ethan spun around, his pulse spiking.

A tall figure stood at the other end of the hallway, half-shrouded in shadows.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, the figure stepped forward, revealing a familiar face.

Ethan's stomach twisted. He hadn't seen Owen since the night of the storm—since that brief moment when the missing boy had reappeared before vanishing again.

But now, Owen looked… different. His skin was pale, almost gray. His eyes sunken. His clothes were damp, as if he had just crawled out of the earth itself.

Ethan took a step back. "Owen?"

The boy tilted his head slightly. "You shouldn't be here."

Ethan's throat tightened. "You're the one who disappeared."

Owen's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Not disappeared. Taken."

The word sent a chill through Ethan's spine.

Owen lifted a trembling hand, pointing at Ethan's chest. "It knows you now."

Ethan's breath hitched. "What does?"

Owen took a shuddering breath. His fingers curled into fists. "The thing beneath the town. Beneath us." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "It's been waiting for you."

Ethan's stomach churned. "Why?"

Owen's expression darkened. "Because you have the mark. And once it chooses you…" His voice cracked. "It never lets go."

Before Ethan could respond, a loud creak echoed through the hallway.

Owen's eyes widened with pure terror. "It's coming."

Then—he vanished.

Ethan staggered backward, his head spinning. One second, Owen had been standing there. The next, he was gone, like he had never been there at all.

But the air had changed.

The hallway suddenly felt wrong, as if something was now standing in the empty space Owen had left behind. Something unseen.

And then—

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The sound came from downstairs. The front door.

Slow. Deliberate.

Ethan's pulse thundered in his ears. He knew—deep in his bones—whatever was knocking…

It wasn't human.

And it was here for him.

Ethan's hands clenched into fists. Every rational thought told him to stay put. To pretend he hadn't heard the knocking. To wake Clara and Eleanor and get the hell out of here.

But something else—a deeper, darker instinct—told him to answer.

Because he knew…

This thing wasn't going to leave.

Slowly, he made his way down the stairs, each step creaking beneath his weight. The knocking didn't stop. It didn't grow impatient. It simply… continued.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

By the time he reached the door, his palms were slick with sweat. His breath was shallow.

His fingers trembled as he reached for the doorknob.

Then—a voice.

Right on the other side of the wood.

Low. Twisted. Familiar.

"Ethan."

His blood ran cold.

The voice sounded like his own.

Every muscle in his body locked in place. The air around him thickened, pressing against his chest.

He wanted to run.

But before he could move, the door burst open.

And the darkness outside rushed in.