The Stranger in the Dark

Chapter 5: The Stranger in the Dark

Silence stretched through the abandoned café, thick and suffocating. Dust floated in the dim beam of Sophie's flashlight, settling over shattered tables and overturned chairs. The scent of mildew clung to the air, mixed with something else—something stale, like old decay.

Then, another creak.

This time, it wasn't the building shifting. It was footsteps.

Someone—or something—was inside with us.

Mark gripped his camera like a weapon, its tiny red recording light barely cutting through the darkness. "Tell me that was one of you," he whispered.

I shook my head. "We're not alone."

Sophie tightened her grip on my arm. "Maybe we should leave."

Another step. Closer this time.

I raised a hand, signaling for them to stay quiet. Heart pounding, I turned the flashlight toward the far end of the café. The beam flickered over rows of broken chairs, the shattered counter, the rusted espresso machine—then stopped on a shadowed figure crouching near the back door.

A person.

At least, I thought it was.

They were hunched over, wrapped in tattered clothing, their face obscured beneath a hood. They were breathing heavily, ragged gasps cutting through the silence.

Then, they spoke.

"You shouldn't have come here."

Their voice was hoarse, like they hadn't spoken in years.

Mark stepped forward cautiously. "Who are you?"

The figure didn't answer right away. Instead, they shifted, wincing as though injured. Their fingers curled over their knee, gripping fabric soaked with something dark—blood.

"I—" The person coughed. "I was like you once. I came here looking for answers."

I swallowed hard. "And? Did you find them?"

The figure let out a weak, humorless laugh. "No. Only more questions."

Sophie glanced at me, her eyes wide with fear. "Ethan, we shouldn't be talking. We need to get out of here."

The stranger shook their head. "There's no way out."

The words sent ice down my spine.

Mark tensed. "What do you mean? There has to be a way—we drove in."

The stranger let out a slow breath. "You think you drove here?" They chuckled, but it wasn't amusement. It was despair. "No one finds Ravengate by accident. The city chooses you."

I clenched my fists. "That doesn't make sense."

"Nothing here does," the stranger muttered. "Not time. Not space. And definitely not the things that live in the fog."

Sophie shuddered. "Those… figures. What are they?"

The stranger's breath hitched. "You saw them?"

Mark nodded. "They chased us. We barely got inside before—"

"Then it's already too late," the stranger cut him off, suddenly frantic. "They've marked you."

A sharp chill crawled up my spine. "Marked us?"

The stranger struggled to stand, gripping the table for support. "They know you're here. They know you're new. That makes you prey."

Sophie grabbed my arm. "Ethan, we have to go."

But before we could move, the front door creaked.

Something was outside.

The whispers returned, swirling around the café like a cold wind. The figure let out a shaky breath. "Listen to me—whatever happens, don't let them touch you."

A shadow passed over the boarded-up windows.

The stranger tensed. "They're here."

The whispers turned into a chorus, hissing our names.

I took a step back, gripping Sophie's hand as Mark raised his camera.

Then, the door burst open.

And the lights went out.

To be continued…