Chapter 17
Elena didn't sleep after Lucian vanished.
How could she? Every shadow in her room felt alive, every creak in the building sounded like a warning. She locked the door exactly as he told her to, then sat on her bed with her knees pulled close, listening.
The Blood Moon's crimson glow made the room look unfamiliar—like the walls were breathing slowly, expanding and contracting with each passing minute.
By midnight, the academy had gone unnervingly quiet.
Then the footsteps began.
Soft at first. Measured. Wrong.
They didn't echo like normal footsteps. Instead, each step sounded as if it came from inside the walls themselves. A hollow, dragging sound that crawled under her skin.
Elena froze.
Don't open the door. Not even if they sound like me.
Lucian's warning repeated in her mind.
The footsteps stopped right outside her room.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
Her blood turned to ice.
"Elena," a voice whispered.
Her breath caught. It sounded like Lucian.
"Elena… open the door."
No. No, it couldn't be. Lucian had said—
Her hands curled into fists. "You're not him," she whispered to herself.
But the voice outside copied Lucian's tone perfectly—low, soft, almost gentle. A shiver ran along her spine.
"Elena," it said again, slightly more urgent. "Please… let me in."
Her throat tightened. "You're not Lucian," she said louder, forcing her shaky voice to hold firm. "Go away."
Silence.
Then—
SCRATCH. SCRATCH.
Something dragged along her door. Not claws… something flatter, something that slid across the wood like skin scraping against it.
Elena stumbled backward until her shoulders hit the wall.
The sound stopped.
Then the voice returned—but this time, it was different. Wrong.
"Elena… don't make me wait."
Her heart hammered painfully.
The shadows in her room deepened, collecting in the corners as if the Blood Moon itself was pulling them closer.
Suddenly, the sound vanished.
Total silence.
Her breath trembled as she tried to calm herself. Maybe it had gone. Maybe whatever that thing was had moved on—
A whisper touched her ear.
"Why didn't you open the door?"
Elena screamed and whipped around.
No one was there.
Nothing touched her. No figure stood behind her—but the whisper had been so close, she could feel the cold of it still lingering on her skin.
She pressed her back harder into the wall, tears burning her eyes.
Then, from the shadows beneath her bed… something shifted.
Slowly. Deliberately.
No. Absolutely not.
Elena forced herself to stand, even though her legs felt like they would collapse. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.
She grabbed her lamp with trembling hands, holding it like a weapon.
The movement under her bed stopped.
The silence stretched too long.
And then—
a soft, familiar voice spoke from beneath her bed:
"Elena… I told you to stay calm."
She froze.
This time… it actually sounded like Lucian.
Truly him.
"Lucian?" she whispered.
A pale hand gently slid out from under the bed, palm upward, as if asking her to trust him.
"Elena," the voice repeated, calm and steady, "I need you to listen carefully."
Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
Because she didn't know—
Was this really Lucian… or something that had learned him too well?
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