CHAPTER 2:The Unbelievers

Back at the precinct, the hum of office chatter and ringing phones should have felt normal. Safe.

But Aaron and Sarah sat in silence, the weight of what she had seen pressing down on them.

Sarah rubbed her temples. "I don't know what happened out there, Aaron. One second, I was following something, and the next… it's like my mind wasn't my own."

Aaron leaned forward. "What were you looking at?"

She swallowed hard. "I don't remember."

Aaron frowned. "Come on, Holt. You just stood there, staring at something for—"

"I said I don't remember!" she snapped, not wanting to alert the other officers,she exhaled, shaking her head. "It's like… I was there, but not there. Like something was holding me in place."

Aaron didn't like that answer. Didn't like that at all.

A voice cut in.

"Well, well, look who made it back from the spook woods."

Detective Tom Rawlings, a smug grin on his face, leaned against Sarah's desk.

Aaron sighed. "Not now, Rawlings."

"Oh, come on, Graves. Holt here runs off into the woods in the middle of the night, you go after her, and now you both look like you've seen a ghost?" He smirked. "Let me guess. Bigfoot? A cult? Maybe just a couple of hillbillies messing with you?"

Sarah crossed her arms. "We're serious, Tom."

"Yeah? What exactly are you serious about? A creepy shadow? A bad feeling? That's called 'being in the woods at night,' Holt." He chuckled. "You two need a vacation."

Laughter rippled through the room.

Aaron clenched his jaw. He knew it—no one was going to believe it anyways.

Sarah glared. "This isn't a joke, Rawlings."

"Then what is it?" he challenged. "Because all I see are two detectives expressing their fears"

Sarah opened her mouth, then stopped.

Because… what could they say?

They had no proof. No footage. No explanation.

Just a shadow in the trees and a feeling of being watched by something they couldn't understand.

Aaron met her eyes, his expression grim.

Whatever she saw, he would help uncover it.

_______

Sarah locked the door behind her and exhaled. Finally home.

The precinct had been unbearable. The laughter. The dismissive smirks.

But Aaron had believed her. That was enough.

She dropped her bag on the couch and kicked off her boots. Her apartment was quiet, the way she liked it. Just the distant hum of the city outside her window.

But something felt… off.

She hesitated. The air inside her apartment felt heavier than usual.

Like the weight from the woods had followed her home.

Shaking the thought off, she walked to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and leaned against the counter.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Aaron.

"You good?"

She smirked and typed back:

"Just tired. You?"

A pause. Then:

"Same. But Sarah… don't ignore this. Something's wrong."

Her fingers hovered over the screen. She wanted to tell him they were overthinking. That they'd just been spooked.

But she couldn't.

Because deep down, she knew.

Later that night, Sarah lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep wouldn't come.

Her mind kept drifting back to the woods. The whisper. The way she had stood there, trapped, staring at…

She still couldn't remember.

She sighed, rolling onto her side. Just sleep. Forget it.

The apartment was silent. Still.

Then—A soft creak.

Sarah's eyes snapped open.

It came from the living room.

Her breath caught. She reached for the gun under her pillow, gripping it tight. Probably just the building settling.

But then—Another creak.

Closer.

Sarah sat up slowly, her heart pounding.

Her apartment was empty. Locked. No one should be here.

The silence stretched.

Then—

A whisper.

"Sarah..."

Her blood ran cold.

It came from the hallway.

Right outside her bedroom door.

Sarah's fingers tightened around the gun.

She stared at the dark gap beneath her bedroom door. No movement. No shadows.

Just silence.

But she knew what she heard.

Her name. Whispered.

Her phone was on the nightstand. She could call Aaron. But what would she say? That her apartment was making noises? That the weight from the woods was still here, pressing against her walls?

No. She wasn't losing her mind.

Taking a slow, steady breath, Sarah slid out of bed.

Each step was controlled, calculated. The wooden floor was cool beneath her feet.She reached the door and pressed her ear against it.

Silence.

Then—

A soft breath.

Right on the other side.

Sarah's heart stopped.

She threw the door open, gun raised—

Nothing.

The hallway was empty.No footsteps. No open windows. No one.

She swallowed hard. Check the apartment.

Moving carefully, she swept the rooms—living room, kitchen, bathroom.

Nothing was out of place.

She was alone.

But then she noticed something.

The front door.

It was unlocked.

Her stomach twisted. She was sure—absolutely sure—she had locked it when she got home.

Her hands felt clammy against the gun.

She locked the door again. Double-checked. Triple-checked.

Then she backed away, watching it like it might open on its own.

Her phone buzzed again. Aaron.

She grabbed it, swiping to answer.

"Graves."

"Sarah? You okay?"

She hesitated. "Yeah. Just… thought I heard something."

Silence on the other end. Then—

"Me too."

Sarah's breath caught. "What?"

"I was about to call you. " Aaron said, his voice lower now. "I swear I heard my name. In my damn apartment, Sarah."

Her skin prickled.

It followed both of them.

Whatever she saw in the woods.

Sarah's grip on the phone tightened. "Aaron… we need to talk. First thing tomorrow."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Tomorrow."

Sarah didn't sleep that night.

Because no matter how many times she thought of locking her door—

She couldn't shake the feeling that something was already inside.

_____

Aaron sat on his couch, staring at the half-empty bottle of whiskey on his table.

He hadn't planned on drinking, but after what happened in the woods—after what happened in his apartment—**he needed something to clear his head.

Because he had heard it too.

His name.

A whisper that shouldn't have been there.

The first time, he thought he imagined it. Stress. Exhaustion.

The second time?

It came from right behind him.

Aaron had spun around so fast he nearly knocked over his lamp. No one was there.

But the air felt thick. Suffocating.

Like something unseen was watching him.

Even now, as he sat in his dimly lit living room, he could feel it. Something wasn't right.

He grabbed his phone, ready to call Sarah—only for it to ring first.

Her name flashed on the screen.

"Graves."

"Sarah? You okay?"

A pause. Then, her voice, quiet but tense.

"Yeah. Just… thought I heard something."

Aaron's fingers tightened around the phone.

"Me too."

Silence stretched between them.

He could picture her now—pale, tense, gripping her own phone just as tight.

They both knew.

They both felt it.

Something had followed them home.

Aaron's eyes flicked to the window. His apartment was on the third floor, yet for some reason, he felt an overwhelming urge to close the curtains.

"Aaron… we need to talk. First thing tomorrow."

"Yeah," he said. "Tomorrow."

But deep down, he already knew tomorrow wouldn't change anything.

Because whatever this was—it wasn't going to stop.