Awakening in the Dark

The air outside the house felt thin, almost too clean after what had just happened inside. The quiet of the street stretched unnaturally, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Ethan stood motionless on the porch, his fingers still curled from where they had gripped the doorframe. His vision remained sharper, the sounds of the night crisper—he could hear the faint scrape of a raccoon climbing over a trash can two houses down.

Noah was still staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Dude. What the hell was that?"

Ethan swallowed, forcing his expression to remain neutral. "I... I don't know." That wasn't entirely a lie. He didn't know what had happened—only that something inside him had shifted, and he could never go back to the way he was before.

Noah looked past him into the house, his face tense. "Something's off, man. I felt it just standing out here. You don't—" He hesitated, his brows knitting together. "You don't feel weird or anything?"

Ethan should have said yes. He should have admitted that the world around him didn't look the same anymore, that the shadows seemed deeper, that even Noah himself now had a faint glow around him like the last dying embers of a fire. But instead, he shook his head. "Just shaken up. That's all."

Noah didn't look convinced.

Ethan shifted, testing his own body. He felt... lighter, but more solid at the same time, as though something invisible had wrapped around him, anchoring him in a way he hadn't noticed before. He flexed his fingers, and for the briefest moment, he swore he saw a shimmer of darkness ripple over his skin—like a trick of the light, or something else entirely.

The realization sent a thrill through him.

"Let's just get out of here," Ethan muttered.

Noah didn't argue. He cast one last wary glance at the house, then followed Ethan down the steps.

As they walked, Ethan became more aware of the way the world moved around him. The streetlights buzzed with a sound he'd never noticed before—a frequency just outside normal human hearing. The wind carried layers of scents he could separate with eerie precision—damp concrete, the stale beer from a house down the street, the metallic tang of something distant, something old.

It was intoxicating.

They reached Noah's car, and as Ethan slid into the passenger seat, he caught his reflection in the side mirror. His face looked the same. His eyes, however, seemed darker. Not in color, but in depth—like something else was sitting just beneath the surface, watching.

Noah started the engine. "I'm driving you home. You need sleep, man."

Ethan nodded absently, but he knew sleep wouldn't come easily. Not after this.

As they pulled away, he stole one last glance at the house. It looked normal again, as if none of it had happened. But Ethan knew better.

Something had changed.

And for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure if he should be afraid… or if he should embrace it.

The drive was quiet at first, the low hum of the tires against the road filling the silence between them. Ethan could feel Noah sneaking glances at him every few minutes, as if expecting him to suddenly convulse or start speaking in tongues.

"You sure you're okay?" Noah finally asked, gripping the wheel a little too tightly.

Ethan exhaled slowly. "I already told you. Yeah. Just tired."

"You're acting... off."

Ethan considered that for a moment. Was he acting off? He felt calm, unnaturally so, considering what had just happened. Shouldn't he be shaking? Shouldn't he be panicking?

Instead, all he felt was a strange sense of awareness—like his mind had been stretched open, making room for something new.

"Look," Noah continued, "I know weird shit when I see it. And that? That was weird. One second you're next to me, the next you're inside that house like you didn't even hear me. Then the door slams, and when you come out, you look like..." He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

"Like what?" Ethan asked.

Noah hesitated, then shook his head. "Like something happened in there. And now you're different."

Ethan let the words settle, weighing them carefully. Different. He liked the way that sounded.

Before he could answer, something caught his eye outside the window. The night looked darker than usual, the shadows stretching unnaturally far across the sidewalks and buildings. But it wasn't just that—something was moving within them.

Figures. Shapes barely distinguishable from the darkness itself, shifting along the edges of the streetlights. They didn't walk like people. Their movements were too fluid, too silent.

A cold sensation crawled up Ethan's spine. He blinked, trying to focus—but the figures were gone.

Or rather, they had melted back into the shadows.

His pulse should have spiked. Instead, a strange calm settled over him.

He could see them now.

And they were watching him, too.

"Hey." Noah's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "We're here."

Ethan blinked, realizing they had already pulled up to his house. The familiar two-story home looked unchanged—warm light glowed faintly from the windows, and the front porch light buzzed like usual.

But it felt different now.

Like the moment he stepped inside, he would see things he wasn't supposed to.

He opened the car door, gripping the frame a little harder than necessary.

"You need me to stay?" Noah asked.

Ethan shook his head. "Nah. I'm good."

Noah didn't look convinced, but he didn't push it. "Alright. But if you wake up possessed or something, don't come crying to me."

Ethan smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Noah watched him walk up the driveway before finally pulling away, his headlights disappearing down the street.

Ethan stood on the porch for a moment, listening. The wind had died down. The night felt too still.

Slowly, he reached for the doorknob.

And the moment he touched it, something in the house... shifted.

Not physically. No doors slammed, no lights flickered. But Ethan could feel it.

A presence.

Waiting.

He inhaled deeply and pushed the door open.