A Whisper in the Dark

Ethan studied the man standing in his doorway. He was lean but carried himself with a quiet confidence, his weathered coat hanging loosely around his frame. His eyes—dark, piercing—did not waver as they locked onto Ethan's.

"You're not ready," the man had said. "But you don't have much time to be."

Anna stood just behind Ethan, one arm wrapped tightly around Daniel, the other gripping Ethan's sleeve as if to anchor him. Her breathing was shallow, but she held her ground.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

The man's lips curled slightly, but it wasn't a smile. More like an acknowledgment. "No one important. Not yet." He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something distant. "I felt something… unnatural. I came to see what it was."

Ethan felt the shadows at his feet shift, restless. He forced them still with a thought. "And?"

The man studied him. "You're new to this." It wasn't a question. "That means you're vulnerable. There are things watching, waiting. You have power, but you don't understand it. That makes you a target."

Anna stiffened. "Target?"

Ethan exhaled sharply, keeping his voice steady. "What do you want?"

"To help," the man answered. "To guide you before you make a mistake you can't take back."

Ethan let out a cold chuckle. "And why would you care?"

The man shrugged. "Because if you fall into the wrong hands, it's a problem for all of us."

Ethan's instincts screamed at him to be cautious. This man had found him too easily, knew too much. But his words held weight. Ethan had already felt something stirring in the shadows—something deeper than he could grasp. If others were noticing him, that meant danger wasn't far behind.

Anna spoke up, her voice tight. "And who exactly is 'us'?"

The man hesitated. Then, as if making a decision, he said, "We're an organization. A faction, if you will. We deal with people like you—people who are waking up to things they shouldn't understand alone."

Ethan's mind whirled. A faction. He had suspected there were others like him, but to hear it confirmed sent a thrill of both curiosity and unease through him.

"I'm not interested," Ethan said flatly.

The man's eyes darkened slightly, but he didn't seem surprised. "That's what they all say at first. Until they realize they don't have a choice." He reached into his coat, and Anna tensed. Ethan's shadows flared instinctively, ready to strike.

The man only pulled out a small, dark coin and held it between his fingers. It was old, the edges worn, and engraved with a symbol Ethan didn't recognize—something twisted and intricate, shifting slightly under the dim light.

"When you change your mind," the man said, flicking the coin towards Ethan. It spun through the air before Ethan caught it, his fingers tingling at the touch. "You'll know how to find us."

With that, the man turned and walked away, his figure swallowed by the night.

Anna let out a shaky breath. "Ethan…"

Ethan stared at the coin, his heartbeat steady but heavy. He didn't need to look up to know the man was already gone. The night was silent again, but something had changed.

He closed his fingers around the coin, feeling its cold weight press into his palm.

Something had already begun.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. After Anna put Daniel to bed, she sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at Ethan with something between worry and frustration.

"You're not actually considering this, are you?" she asked.

Ethan sat across from her, turning the coin over in his fingers. "I don't know yet."

"You don't know?" she echoed, voice rising. "Ethan, that man showed up at our door talking about factions, about you being a target! This isn't normal!"

"Nothing has been normal since the night I first felt it," Ethan murmured. He looked up at her, shadows flickering faintly behind his eyes. "I need answers."

Anna shook her head, her jaw tight. "And what if this is exactly what they want? What if they're manipulating you into something you can't get out of?"

Ethan set the coin down on the table. "I won't go in blind. But I can't ignore this."

Anna's eyes shone with something deeper than anger—fear, sorrow. "You're changing, Ethan."

He knew that already. But the way she said it, like she was already mourning him, made something inside him clench. He reached out, resting a hand on hers.

"I'm still me," he said softly.

Anna didn't pull away, but she didn't answer either.

That night, sleep evaded him. The shadows in the corners of the room pulsed, whispering secrets he wasn't ready to hear. His dreams were filled with voices, warnings, glimpses of something vast and terrible waiting just beyond the edges of his understanding.

And through it all, the coin sat on the nightstand, gleaming in the dim light, as if watching him.