Chapter 8: Beneath the Mist

Chapter 8: Beneath the Mist

— In the depths of darkness, the truth is sometimes clear, sometimes obscure.

As night deepened, the campus lights gradually dimmed, and the entire dormitory building was shrouded in an eerie silence. Tom sat alone at his desk, fingers tapping lightly on the surface as Elizabeth's words echoed in his mind.

— If you want to know the truth, meet me behind the academy at ten tomorrow night.

Her voice had been calm, but the weight of her words was undeniable—this was no casual invitation.

Tom took a deep breath and turned to look out the window. The night was as black as ink, and the distant forest lay in unsettling stillness. Occasionally, the wind stirred, rustling the leaves, twisting the shadows on the ground into eerie shapes. The longer he stared, the more the darkness seemed to take form—a creature crouching in silence, watching him, waiting for him to step closer.

A chill crawled up his spine. He shut his eyes and shook his head, trying to dispel the unease creeping into his thoughts.

And then—

Tap.

—A knock on the window?

Tom's pupils contracted slightly.

His dorm was on the fourth floor. Who could possibly be knocking?

Tap. Tap.

Two more knocks, slow and deliberate, like a carefully planned signal.

Holding his breath, he turned his head toward the window. The glass was pitch black, reflecting only the dim light of his room. But within that reflection—

A hand.

A pale hand pressed against the glass, fingers slightly curled, nails tinged with a faint grayish-blue hue.

Tom's heart pounded. He instinctively took a step back, cold sweat instantly soaking his spine. The fourth floor—this wasn't possible.

Then what the hell was that?

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to stay calm. Slowly, he lifted his head, trying to see the figure beyond the window.

But the moment his gaze locked onto the darkness—

The hand vanished.

"…What the hell?"

Tom cursed under his breath, his heartbeat still racing. He hesitated before summoning the courage to step forward and yank the window open.

A rush of night air flooded in, carrying a damp, icy chill.

Outside, there was nothing but darkness. The trees swayed in the wind, their shadows shifting and stretching, but beyond that—nothing.

And yet, Tom knew—what he had seen was not an illusion.

He took a deep breath and reached to close the window, but then—

His eyes caught something on the window frame.

Faint, slender fingerprints.

Damp, as if left by something that had just crawled out of the water.

Tom's breath hitched. He instinctively stepped back.

Only then did he realize—there was a faint, fishy scent lingering in the night air.

⸻

The next morning.

Tom walked into the classroom with dark circles under his eyes. No sooner had he sat down than Jack leaned over.

"What the hell were you doing last night? You look like a damn panda."

Tom ignored the comment and asked in a low voice, "Did you hear anything strange last night?"

"Strange? What do you mean?" Jack looked genuinely confused. "I was out like a rock. Didn't hear a thing."

"You're sure?" Tom narrowed his eyes, studying his friend's expression.

Jack seemed completely sincere. There was no sign of deception.

Tom's frown deepened.

If Jack hadn't heard anything, then what the hell was that knocking last night?

Before he could dwell on it further, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"You encountered it, didn't you?"

Tom snapped his head up.

Elizabeth was watching him, her usual composure unshaken, as if she had expected this all along. But there was something different about her gaze—an almost imperceptible gravity.

"It?" Tom asked in a hushed voice. "What do you mean?"

Elizabeth didn't answer immediately. Instead, she tilted her head slightly and murmured, "Not here. After school."

Tom nodded, deciding not to press further.

⸻

That night, at ten o'clock.

Tom followed the arranged meeting, making his way to the secluded path behind the academy. This area was almost always deserted, and at night, the silence was suffocating. The only sound was the whisper of the wind through the trees, like something murmuring just out of reach.

Elizabeth was already there.

She wore a black athletic outfit, her long hair tied into a high ponytail. Her expression was grim—she was prepared for whatever was about to happen.

"Let's go," she said quietly, turning to lead the way into the forest.

Tom hesitated for a moment, then followed.

They walked in silence, their footsteps unnervingly loud against the hushed backdrop of the night.

Finally, they arrived at an ancient stone monument.

The stone was worn with age, its surface cracked and eroded. The inscriptions were barely legible, but a few fragmented words could still be made out—

"…Ghost…Gate…"

Tom frowned and reached out to touch the stone, but Elizabeth's hand shot out, stopping him.

"Don't."

Her voice was sharper than ever before—an unmistakable warning.

Tom froze, startled by the intensity in her tone. He opened his mouth to ask why, but before he could—

A low, humming sound echoed through the night.

It wasn't the wind.

It wasn't anything natural.

It was a voice. A whisper. A sound that seemed to come from beneath the earth itself.

Tom's head snapped up. He scanned his surroundings, searching for the source.

But there was nothing.

Only darkness.

And yet—he could feel it.

Something was there.

Something lurking in the shadows, watching them.

Elizabeth clenched her fists. Her voice was cold.

"It's here."

A shiver ran down Tom's spine.

And then—

In the pitch-black darkness—

A pair of eerie, glowing green eyes slowly opened.