The Room Of Shadows

I didn't sleep.

I lay awake in my bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, my thoughts running wild and untamed like a horse set loose in an open field. Everything about the past few days had felt surreal—like I was slipping into a dream I didn't remember agreeing to have. Except now, the dream had teeth, and it was starting to bite.

Theo's hand had lingered on mine last night. Just for a moment. Not long enough for anyone else to notice, but long enough to send something sharp and confusing through my chest. And Julian—he had looked at me like I was a secret he hadn't been told, but was desperate to uncover.

It was getting harder to breathe inside the walls of Ravencroft.

At breakfast, the dining hall buzzed with the usual low hum of clinking silverware and quiet gossip. The chandeliers above cast golden light on polished mahogany tables, but I could feel something murky under the surface, like there was a shift happening—something neither visible nor nameable.

I picked at my toast.

Across the room, Julian sat with the student council members, laughing at something Seraphina said. His laughter was easy and warm, the kind that drew people in. Yet, I caught him glancing in my direction twice. And each time, he didn't smile.

Not today.

Theo wasn't at breakfast.

Neither was he in class.

That alone was strange, but no one else seemed concerned. Maybe he had pulled one of his disappearances again. But something about it gnawed at me all through morning lectures, all through the rain-soaked walk across the courtyard, and even during Latin, where Professor Mornay quizzed us relentlessly and gave out punishments with a grin.

Still no Theo.

After lunch, I finally gave in.

I headed to the east wing, past the tower stairs, past the music room with its haunting piano notes, and down the winding hall that smelled faintly of mothballs and dust. His dorm was on the fourth floor, tucked at the end like an afterthought.

I knocked. No answer.

I tried the handle.

Unlocked.

The door creaked open slowly, and what greeted me wasn't what I expected.

The lights were off. Curtains drawn. But moonlight pooled in from a crack in the fabric, casting silvery shadows over the mess inside. Sketchbooks were scattered across the floor like leaves in a storm. Pencils broken. Charcoal smudges everywhere. The walls—lined with drawings—were chaotic. Unlike his usual controlled style, these sketches were wild. Frantic.

People. Faces. My face.

Over and over.

Some screaming. Some silent.

Some… bleeding.

I froze in the doorway, unable to move. The air inside the room felt different, like it was weighed down by something invisible. I took a step in, and the floor creaked beneath me.

That's when I noticed the envelope.

It was on his desk. Just lying there. My name written across the front in his handwriting—messy, hurried.

I reached for it, my hand trembling.

You shouldn't be here.

The voice behind me made me spin around, heart crashing into my ribs.

Theo stood there, disheveled. His eyes darker than I'd ever seen them.

"I knocked," I said quietly.

"You shouldn't be here," he repeated, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"What's going on?"

He didn't answer.

He walked past me, snatched the envelope off the table, and shoved it into his coat pocket.

I took a step forward. "Theo—"

"I said you shouldn't be here," he said again, but softer this time. Like he was trying to convince himself.

I looked at him carefully. His eyes were sunken, tired. Like he hadn't slept in days.

"I was worried," I said. "You weren't in class."

"I needed to be alone."

"Are you okay?"

He didn't answer that either. Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed, hands clasped, staring down at the floor. I sat beside him.

Silence stretched.

"I see them," he whispered.

"What?"

"The people I draw. I see them in my sleep. Sometimes when I'm awake too." His voice cracked. "And lately, I see you."

I swallowed.

"I don't know what's happening to me," he said. "But it started after the library. After we… found that book."

I turned toward him, pulse speeding up. "You think it's connected?"

"I don't think," he muttered. "I know."

His hand brushed against mine, and this time, he didn't pull away. Neither did I.

"I don't want you getting pulled into this," he said. "There's something wrong with Ravencroft. Something buried. And I think—" He stopped himself.

"What?" I pressed.

"I think they're watching us. Not just the faculty. Someone else."

Before I could respond, a loud bell rang from somewhere down the hall.

Evening curfew.

"I have to go," I whispered.

Theo stood up and walked to the door, opening it just enough to peek out.

When he turned back to me, something in his expression softened. "Be careful."

I nodded.

And just as I stepped into the hall, he added, "Don't read the letter. Not yet."

The door closed.

And I was left standing alone with a thousand questions and a storm thundering beneath my skin.