The sky felt heavy that night.
Not cloudy, not stormy — just… heavy, like something massive and unseen hovered over the city, pressing the air, suffocating the quiet.
Lucas sat on the rooftop of his building, earbuds unplugged, eyes lost in nothing. From up there, the world below looked distant, dim, like it didn't really belong to him.
It was his refuge — the only place where the constant questions in his head seemed to quiet down.
But that night, something was different.
A tension he couldn't name.
For weeks, strange things had been happening:
Clocks ticking out of sync, then snapping back.
Cats freezing in the middle of the street to stare at empty corners.
That weird feeling of being watched — even in locked rooms with no one around.
And then, he heard it.
A sound.
Low. Broken.
Like a whisper trapped inside a broken fan.
> — ...Lu...cas...
He turned, startled.
The rooftop was empty.
> — ...come... here...
The voice came from his phone — even though it was unplugged, the screen off.
He flinched and tossed it aside. It slid across the concrete, stopping near the water tank.
And then — the rooftop door creaked open with a metal clang.
— "You good?" a familiar voice asked.
David, his best friend and next-door neighbor, stepped out carrying a bag of chips and a backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.
Lucas exhaled — he hadn't even realized he was holding his breath.
— "Damn, David . You scared the hell out of me."
— "You scared the hell out of me, disappearing like that. I went to your apartment and your mom said you'd gone back up to your 'astral observatory' again."
— "It's just the rooftop."
— "Call it what you want. I'm here with an official invitation."
David held up the chips like a sealed scroll.
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
— "Invitation?"
— "Night of Terror. Tomorrow. My place. You, me, Clara. Pizza, soda… and a series of extremely scientific supernatural experiments."
He grinned theatrically.
— "We're summoning a ghost, decoding ancient deep web symbols, testing an app that talks to the dead, and maybe doing a quick Ouija session with a board I... didn't exactly buy."
Lucas smirked, then shook his head.
— "You're insane."
— "Maybe. But it'll be fun. And honestly… you look like you need it."
Lucas hesitated, leaning back slightly, eyes trailing to the sky.
It wasn't the idea of the games that bothered him.
It was how right they suddenly felt — like a piece of a puzzle sliding into place when it shouldn't exist in the first place.
— "I don't know, man," he muttered. "Everything's been… weird lately."
— "Exactly why we need to chill a bit," David said, voice calm now. "It's just a joke. A way to laugh at all this creepy crap instead of freaking out."
Lucas looked back at the phone on the ground.
Still off. Still silent.
But it wasn't funny. Not to him.
That voice... it felt real.
— "I'm not sure if messing with this kind of thing is a good idea anymore," he admitted.
David stepped closer, tossing him a half-smile.
— "Look, if something happens — you can blame me for the rest of your life. But I swear, it's harmless. Just us, candles, maybe some fake chanting and pizza grease on the floor. Nothing's gonna follow us home."
Lucas ran a hand through his hair, sighing.
— "Maybe."
— "Maybe?" David nudged him playfully.
— "Come on. You're already in. Clara said she's bringing chocolate pudding and a horror movie list that'll scar us forever. You seriously gonna bail now?"
Lucas finally let out a quiet laugh.
— "Fine. But if we open a portal to hell, you're the first one going through."
David raised both hands in mock celebration.
— "Deal! I've always wanted to see what hell's cafeteria looks like."
He picked up the phone and handed it back to Lucas.
— "Relax. Nothing weird's gonna happen. It's just for fun."
But Lucas knew.
Even if he couldn't explain it.
Something had already started.
That night was eerily silent.
No cars. No voices. Not even the muffled hum of the neighbors' TV.
Lucas took a long time to fall asleep. But when sleep came, it brought no rest.
It brought a calling.
He was walking down a long, narrow corridor, where the walls seemed to pulse, as if alive.
Flickering lights blinked above him in patterns he couldn't decode.
The floor was covered in a thick, low fog, and his footsteps echoed like he was moving through a deep cave.
At the end of the corridor, there was a broken mirror.
But he didn't see his reflection.
He saw his living room. Empty. But distorted.
The wall was slanted, the furniture melting like wax, and in the center...
...a crouched figure, faceless, with eyes that trembled like TV static.
> — "Lucas..."
The voice came from behind him.
He turned.
And saw Clara.
At least, she looked like Clara. But her eyes were black, and her mouth moved as if she were speaking... yet no sound came out.
He tried to call her name, but his voice was gone.
He tried to run, but the floor beneath him began to open.
He fell.
And fell.
And fell.
Until he woke up with a jolt.
---
The room was dark. His phone read 3:33 a.m.
His heart was racing, sweat on his forehead, bedsheet twisted around him.
It took Lucas a few seconds to realize he was back.
But the strangest thing was what he'd heard just before waking up:
a whisper from inside the dream.
Low. Familiar.
> — "The Veil no longer holds..."
Lucas sat up in bed, breathless, staring into the void.
And for the first time, he felt like he had fallen asleep on the wrong side of the world.