Chapter three: The missing pages.

  Eshina becomes obsessed with figuring out what’s real. He returns to the abandoned library, searching for clues, but finds that parts of the building seem… different. Maybe a room that should be there is missing, or bookshelves have rearranged themselves.

  Then, he notices something disturbing the book he found before is missing. Instead, there’s another book on the same dusty table, but its pages are torn out. The remaining pages contain fragmented sentences that seem to describe his own actions, as if the book is writing about him in real time.

  As he flips through it, the st written sentence reads:

  "Eshina turned the page with trembling fingers, unaware of the figure watching him from the shadows."

  After reading that eerie sentence in the book, Eshina whips around but there’s no one there. The library is silent, except for his own breathing. But something feels… off. The air is colder, heavier.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees something move between the bookshelves. A shadow, tall and thin, gliding rather than walking. But when he turns to look, it’s gone.

  He decides to leave, but as he reaches the door, he notices something else his name written on the walls in faint, almost erased ink. Not just once, but over and over, as if someone had been writing it obsessively.

  Then, just before he leaves, he hears a whisper. It sounds like his mother’s voice...

  Eshina stood frozen at the library’s entrance, his breath hitching in his throat. Across the street, the dark figure loomed, still and silent. It had no face, no distinct features just a bck mass shaped like a person, standing under the dim glow of a streetmp.

  A heavy sense of dread pressed against his chest, yet he couldn't look away. The figure didn’t move, didn’t breathe. It was as if it were waiting for something.

  Then, from the corner of his eye, Eshina saw headlights approaching. A truck barreled down the street, its tires screeching slightly against the wet pavement. His breath caught as it drove straight through the figure no impact, no resistance. The moment the truck passed, the figure was gone.

  Eshina’s body stiffened. He scanned the street, expecting to see the shadow lingering somewhere, but there was nothing. Just the empty night, the distant hum of the truck fading into the distance, and the cold air biting at his skin.

  His head pounded. None of this made sense.

  He turned and walked home, the eerie silence of the vilge unsettling him. The streetlights flickered as he passed, and the further he went, the heavier his limbs felt. His thoughts drifted back to the library the missing pages, the whisper that sounded like his mother, the name scrawled on the walls.

  "Is any of this real?"

  He reached his home, locked the door behind him, and exhaled sharply. The weight in his chest didn’t ease. He dragged himself to his room, barely remembering to take off his shoes before colpsing onto his bed.

  His eyes shut. Darkness swallowed him.

  Then...

  A gust of cold wind. The scent of damp earth. A sharp, metallic tang in the air.

  Eshina’s eyes snapped open. His breath came in ragged gasps. His hands… they were wet. Sticky.

  RED.

  His stomach churned as he stared at his trembling fingers, coated in blood. A knife y in his grasp, its bde glinting under the moonlight.

  His body felt heavy, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs. His senses sharpened, the sound of rustling leaves filling his ears. The cold night air clung to his skin.

  Then he looked down.

  A corpse.

  The old librarian y beneath him, his lifeless eyes staring into the void, mouth slightly open as if he had tried to speak his final words. Blood pooled around his body, soaking into the dirt, staining the fallen leaves.

  Eshina’s chest tightened. His throat burned.

  No. No. No.

  This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

  He scrambled backward, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The knife slipped from his grip, nding with a dull thud beside the corpse. His mind raced, trying to piece together how he had ended up here.

  The st thing he remembered was falling asleep.

  His body shook violently. His thoughts blurred together in a chaotic storm.

  Then movement.

  Somewhere beyond the trees, something shifted. A shadow. Silent. Watching.

  He wasn’t alone.

  Eshina’s breath hitched. He forced himself to his feet, his legs barely holding him up. His eyes darted around the dense forest, searching for an escape.

  Then, a voice. Low. Faint.

  "You finally woke up."

  His body stiffened. His skin crawled.

  The voice didn’t come from behind him.

  It came from the corpse.

  Eshina’s blood turned to ice. The librarian’s dead lips had moved. A small, broken ugh escaped from them.

  Eshina stumbled back, his head spinning.

  "You're you're dead!" His voice cracked.

  The corpse twitched. Its fingers curled slightly, as if trying to grasp something. Its milky eyes stared through him.

  "Are you sure?"

  Eshina’s heart pounded in his ears. He wanted to run, to scream, but his body refused to move.

  The forest seemed to close in around him. The trees stretched taller, the shadows deepened, and the air grew heavier, suffocating.

  A sharp pain struck his head. His vision blurred. His knees buckled.

  Darkness swallowed him again.

  And then

  A sharp gasp.

  Eshina’s eyes flew open. He was back in his room, drenched in sweat, his heart hammering in his chest. His hands were clean. No blood. No knife.

  Just his breath. His pounding head. The lingering scent of damp earth.

  He sat up, running a shaking hand through his hair.

  "A dream?" he whispered.

  But as he turned his head, his body froze.

  His window was open. The cold night air drifted in.

  And on his desk, sitting in a neat pile, were pages. Torn pages.

  From the book in the library.

  Eshina's blood ran cold.

  Something was watching him.

  Something was real.

  And it wasn’t finished with him yet.