The Silent Watcher

One hour later....

The night had deepened. The only sound in the room was the soft rhythm of steady breathing.

Siaara… had somehow fallen asleep. But she was not alone.

A shadow stood silently by her bedside, its presence blending into the dim moonlight that outlined its silhouette.

Cold, hollow eyes remained fixed on Siaara's face, as if searching for something… or perhaps sensing something.

It leaned in. Slowly.

So close that its breath nearly brushed against her skin.

Yet, it could neither wake her nor touch her.

Fingers hovered in the air, hesitating—yearning, yet afraid to move forward.

"Strange, isn't it?" A whisper, barely a breath. "You can't see me… can't hear me… and yet"

It fell silent.

Siaara's breathing remained even, her face peaceful. But there was something about her… something that refused to let it rest.

Fingers grazed the edge of the blanket, hesitating before gently pulling it down just enough to reveal her face.

The moonlight kissed her features, and for a fleeting moment, it froze.

"You…"

Its voice softened further.

"You have no idea who you are, what you are… or how much you still stand to lose."

A faint smile ghosted over its lips, but its eyes held something else—something far more restless.

Then, suddenly, Siaara's brows furrowed slightly, as if sensing an unseen presence.

It stilled.

Then took a step back.

"Sleep, Siaara. For now, let the truth stay hidden in your dreams…"

And just like that, as if dissolving into the night itself, the shadow vanished.

Silence returned to the room.

Yet, an unspoken unease lingered on Siaara's lips, like a whisper her soul had heard, even if her mind had not.

A whisper from something that belonged to the dark.

Next morning...

8 o'clock, Siaara woke up feeling exhausted, her body heavy as if weighed down by an unseen force.

A dull ache throbbed in her temples, and her limbs felt sluggish. It was as if she had been running all night, except she hadn't.

Had she?

Her breath hitched as memories from last night flooded back. The shadows. The attack. The unseen figure who had saved her. And those words, etched into the mirror like a cryptic warning.

"It has begun."

A cold shiver ran down her spine.

She quickly sat up, scanning her room. Everything looked normal.

The bed was slightly disheveled, but nothing seemed out of place. No sign of an intruder. No presence lurking in the corners.

For a brief second, she wondered, had it all been a dream?

But then she saw it.

A faint scratch on her forearm. Not deep, but visible. Real.

Her fingers traced over the mark as her heartbeat quickened. No, this wasn't her imagination. Something had happened.

Siaara exhaled sharply, pushing aside the rising fear. She didn't have time for this.

She was serious about her job, and no matter what had transpired last night, she couldn't afford to be distracted.

Tossing the blanket aside, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

The moment her feet touched the floor, a strange sensation crawled up her skin—like stepping into something unseen. But she ignored it.

"Focus, Siaara," she muttered to herself, forcing her thoughts back to reality.

Standing up, she walked toward the bathroom. As she passed the mirror, she hesitated for just a second. Would the message still be there?

Slowly, her gaze lifted to the glass.

Nothing.

It was spotless, reflecting only her tired face and wary eyes.

She let out a shaky breath. Maybe someone had erased it? Or, maybe whatever had written it had taken it back?

Don't think about it. Not now.

Shaking off the unsettling thoughts, she turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face. The icy touch jolted her awake, grounding her back to reality.

Work. She had to focus on work.

Glancing at the time, she cursed under her breath. She was running late.

Without wasting another second, she grabbed her things, threw on a crisp outfit, and hurried out of her apartment, trying to convince herself that last night was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

Trying to believe that everything was, normal.

But deep down, a voice whispered, "Nothing is normal anymore."

And something in the shadows watched her leave.