The calm that Nox felt was unlike anything he had experienced before. It was as if cold water flowed through his veins—not terror, but something else entirely. The world felt distant, muted, as if a heavy fog had descended upon him, leaving him in a space suspended between the earth and the air, a place where even his own thoughts felt strangely detached.

  His breath quickened, but even in the stillness, he couldn't shake the sense that something was about to break. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as a sudden chill crept down his spine. In that moment, his mind drifted back to a memory of his mother, vivid as if she were speaking to him now. She had said this to him as a child:

  "People think that emotions are just physiological reactions to various stimuli, but in truth, they’re energy."

  Her voice rang clear in his mind, steady and reassuring, like a lighthouse in a storm. But now, standing at the precipice of something unknown, those words took on a new, unsettling weight.

  "When that energy bursts from a strong reaction, it leaves aftereffects behind."

  The words echoed in his mind, as uninvited as they were perfectly timed, like a warning from the past. He had heard them a thousand times before, but today, they felt different, as if they were meant for this very moment.

  That was how Nox had always explained the strange creatures he’d seen throughout his life—fragments of energy, left behind by emotional outbursts. It made sense to him, in a way. A human might feel a wide range of emotions, but he believed this "energy" could remain behind, taking on strange forms. It was as though the air around him vibrated with the remnants of those emotions, caught between the world of the living and something far darker.

  But what about the creatures that didn’t just appear—what about the ones that lingered, ones with a purpose? Ones like this? Nox had seen them before, in the shadows of his past, but none had ever left him feeling this way. He had spent years rationalizing their existence, but now, with this one approaching, all his explanations seemed hollow, inadequate.

  Unlike horror movies, where extreme negative emotions linger in the form of a deceased person, Nox had a different theory. He believed that once freed from their human shell, this energy could take on any shape. That was why every monster looked different—because every person’s character was unique. Each one carried the imprint of the emotions that had once belonged to them—grief, anger, fear, or a deep, abiding desire.

  But even after years of seeing these creatures wandering among humans, the ones that still sent shivers down his spine weren’t the gory or grotesque ones. No—it was the kind like the one currently walking toward him. Something about it felt wrong on a deeper level, like it wasn’t merely a fragment of someone’s emotional release. This was something far more dangerous, far more purposeful.

  Each of its steps felt like an eternity, its presence growing heavier with every inch it closed. Unlike most creatures, driven by instinct or a vague desire, this one seemed above them all. Its movements were deliberate, calculated, as if it could see into his soul, reading every flicker of his fear, his confusion. Whether it was its appearance or its presence, Nox couldn't quite tell—but he knew this one was different.

  His legs felt like lead. He wanted to move, to run, to do anything—but his body refused to obey. The air grew thick, pressing in on him, and his heartbeat began to hammer in his chest. It’s drawing closer, he thought, but it was as though his mind was detached from his body, watching helplessly as the creature closed in.

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  "Everything has a purpose, a desire that moves it," his mother’s voice echoed again, as though she were standing beside him, sharing the knowledge he had spent years trying to understand.

  "Even those whom others can’t see," she had told him softly, her tone tinged with sorrow. "Just like a burst of emotion creates a ripple in the world, so does desire—one of our strongest drives. While bursts are temporary, desire grows over years. And when a person refuses to let go of it, it becomes tied to this world—even when the person should have passed on. Unfortunately, the world is unforgiving. Once you cling to it—especially when you shouldn’t—it grabs back, and it never lets go."

  Nox had never truly understood those words—not until now. Not until the weight of desire had manifested itself in this creature. It wasn’t just an emotional fragment, a lingering ghost of the past—it was a manifestation of something deeper. Something far more dangerous.

  To an outsider, the creature might seem the most human-like of them all, and therefore, the safest. But Nox knew better. The closer it got, the more he realized that it was the last thing anyone would want to meet. Its very presence seemed to warp the air around it, making the night feel colder, darker.

  The naked form of a woman slowly approached, her movements eerily graceful, yet unnatural. Her skin was a deep, pitch-black hue, like burned charcoal. It was cracked and crumbling in places, as though her very essence was breaking down, eroding over time. But her hair—her long, rich black hair—was perfect. It flowed down her back in cascading waves, completely concealing her face, leaving only the sense of something hidden, something to be feared.

  At first, it might have seemed alluring—sensual, even—but any such thoughts vanished in an instant, replaced by a suffocating sense of dread. Her body wasn’t quite human. Her arms and legs were monstrous and bulky, each limb ending in razor-sharp talons, capable of rending flesh with a single swipe. A massive tail swayed behind her, its weight almost too much for her body to bear, yet she moved as though it were nothing.

  What struck Nox the hardest, though, was the way she moved. There was a deliberate slowness to her approach, as if every step was part of a grand design. It was like she was studying him, waiting for him to make a move, but he couldn’t. His body refused to respond.

  The distance between them seemed to stretch on forever. Every moment dragged like the slow march of time itself. But finally, the creature stood before him. The air felt electric, charged with an unseen force. His pulse quickened, his chest tightening as he felt the weight of her gaze—though she hadn’t yet shown her face.

  A part of Nox urged him to run, to escape, to find shelter in the world he knew. But his body refused to obey. He was trapped, bound to the ground by an invisible force, unable to break free. The creature’s presence was overwhelming, like gravity itself had turned against him. Something deep inside whispered the truth: he could never outrun this thing. Not this one. Not the one who had found him, drawn by his own energy.

  Her enormous hand reached out, impossibly large, large enough to cover his entire torso. The tip of one claw brushed against his chest—and then, in an instant, the creature recoiled.

  It flinched as though burned by some invisible force. It was as if something had repelled it—something more powerful than Nox could comprehend.

  It happened so quickly that Nox didn’t have time to process what had just occurred. A searing pain shot through his head, the intensity of it blinding him. He collapsed to his knees, vision blurring, the world around him spinning in a chaotic whirl of dark shapes and colours. The creature, now visibly shaken, retreated in a way he had never seen before. It leapt across the street with the speed of a startled animal, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost.

  The last thing Nox thought before slipping into unconsciousness was a desperate, bitter hope: that death, if it was truly coming, would be painless—or at least less painful than the excruciating headache now pounding behind his eyes.