That night, Liam couldn't sleep. The journal now sat on his nightstand, open to the blank final page.
3:00 a.m.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
This time, Liam didn't freeze. He got up, every part of his body screaming not to, and walked to the red door.
It was open.
Inside was nothing but darkness—thick, unnatural black that seemed to breathe.
He took one step forward. The air was ice. Another step. Something brushed past his ankle.
A whisper, inches from his ear:
"You found me."