“Why stop now?”

Jade’s voice cut through the dark as she peered at Luke, her breath hot and impatient against his skin. Disappointment carved lines across her face. Her thighs locked around him, urging him to continue, but he had gone still above her, chest heaving.

Luke’s breath came in ragged bursts, sweat dripping from his temples and trailing down the ridges of his neck to his chest. His eyes darted across the dim room, searching. “I heard something,” he managed, voice tight, almost strangled. “I’m not sure we’re alone.”

“I heard nothing,” Jade interjected sharply. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, her nails biting into his skin. The rose-scented candle flickered faintly at the edge of the bed, throwing trembling shadows across the walls. The air was heavy with wax, sweat, and the musk of their bodies.

She ground her hips upward, desperate. “Don’t stop, Luke. Not now. Not when you’re hitting me right there.”

He hesitated, caught between her demand and the prickling fear crawling across his scalp. His heart thundered. He could still feel that sound—or was it a voice?—lurking in the room’s stillness.

But Jade tightened her hold, her legs locked around him like chains. “Come on, Luke. Quit acting like a child.”

Her words stung him back into the moment. He dropped his gaze, and his eyes narrowed on her breasts rising with each impatient breath. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Your beauty is beyond rejection,” he murmured, fingers trailing along her thighs. He caressed her skin slowly, savoring the warmth beneath his palms.

Jade answered with a sly, flirtatious smile. She pressed his hips, urging him back inside her.

They had no time to waste. The school’s rules were merciless: no male students in the female dorms. But they had arrived a day early for the new semester, and for one night the building was nearly empty. By morning, Jade’s roommate would return and privacy would vanish. This was their stolen chance.

Her mind flashed back to high school, to prom night—the night she gave him her virginity, the night she made him hers. Since then, she couldn’t let him go. The way he moved inside her, the way he made her body surrender, was something no other girl would ever taste in her boyfriend.

She spread herself wide, eyes glittering as Luke slid his hardness back into her. A gasp escaped her lips, trembling between a moan and a cry. Her mouth parted, her head tilting back against the pillow as her body welcomed him.

“Harder,” she whispered, then louder, desperate. “Hit me hard.”

The bed creaked under their rhythm, each thrust rattling its old wooden frame. Her fists clenched against the sheets, knuckles white. His hands wandered—rough, eager, squeezing her breasts like ripe fruit, coaxing from her another cascade of moans. She clawed at his back, her pleasure rising like a storm.

“I love you, Luke,” she groaned, her voice breaking with the force of it.

“I love—”

Luke froze. The words strangled in his throat.

A whisper hissed against his ear, so close it chilled his blood: You will die.

He jerked upright, breath caught, eyes wide. The hair on his arms bristled, his skin clammy with fear. His gaze tore around the room, but the candlelight only flickered against empty corners.

“What’s the matter?” Jade frowned, confusion hardening into irritation. “Don’t tell me I risked expulsion for unsatisfied sex.”

Her voice quivered, but Luke barely heard her. “Did you not hear that?” His tone was fractured, full of doubt and dread. “I feel… strange.”

“Strange?” She sat up slightly, eyes narrowing. “Are you saying something’s wrong with me—or with having fun with my boyfriend?”

“No!” His reply was sharp, desperate. “Something’s not right. Not with you, not with—”

The whisper came again, harsher this time, venom curling through the syllables: You will die.

Luke’s blood iced. He spun, eyes cutting through the room, seeking the source. Nothing. Just Jade, the bed, the candle. And yet…

Invisible fingers traced his spine. He shuddered violently. “Who are you?” His voice cracked. “Show yourself!”

Jade’s irritation deepened into disbelief. She folded her arms, shaking her head. “Are you sick in the head? Luke, there’s no one here but us.”

But he could feel it—someone, something, was with them.

Then it touched him. A warmth, alien and invasive, enveloped his manhood. His eyes dropped in horror. Jade wasn’t touching him—she was too far away—yet his body swelled with unwanted arousal, harder than before.

Jade’s anger melted into relief. “You’re still growing,” she said, almost laughing. “We can continue.”

“No!” he cried, stumbling back from the bed, trembling. “I’m losing my mind!”

The unseen hand gripped harder, caressing, stroking. His scrotum tingled under phantom fingers. Luke doubled over, whimpering.

Jade scrambled off the bed, fear creeping into her voice. “Babe, come back. You’re scaring me.” She reached for him, but before she could touch him—

“He’s no longer your babe!”

The voice was female this time—loud, vicious. Wind roared through the open window, extinguishing the candle. The room plunged into choking blackness.

Jade’s heart lurched into her throat. She screamed as unseen hands seized her, smashing her head against the wall with sickening force.

“Jade!” Luke cried, panic seizing him. “Are you alright?”

“She can’t answer you,” the whisper came again, crawling across his ear.

Darkness pressed in. Luke stumbled, blind, pleading. “Please, don’t harm us! Whoever you are—please!” His voice cracked, raw with terror.

The silence that followed was worse than any sound.

Then—footsteps. Slow, deliberate, echoing from the hallway outside. Relief surged through Luke’s chest. “Help!” he shouted, pounding the air. “Help me! Somebody!”

A faint light bobbed beyond the door. His heart leapt. The shadow of a figure stretched long across the floor.

The doorknob rattled, metal clinking in the stillness. Luke dashed for it, naked, desperate.

The door creaked open. His relief shattered.

No one stood there. Only an old lantern, its flame steady, sat alone on the threshold.

“No!” he howled. “Come back!”

He lurched forward, but before he could reach it, the door slammed shut.

Laughter erupted around him—shrill, devilish giggles swelling into wild, manic chuckles. The windows banged, the wind howled, and the room itself seemed to tilt and spin.

The whisper came again, wrapping around his soul like chains: I told you—you will die.

The laughter grew, and the walls themselves seemed to breathe with it. Luke staggered, choking on terror as the world rotated beneath his feet. His scream tore into the darkness, swallowed whole.

The city outside lay in silence, every dorm room swallowed by sleep—except Jade’s.

Her head throbbed from the crash against the wall, each pulse sending a warm stream of blood down her cheek. She staggered upright, her hands trembling as they pressed against the mattress for balance. The room felt heavier, like the air itself had thickened with menace.

“Hello, Luke!” she called, her voice unsteady. “Are you there?”

Only silence answered.

She squinted into the gloom. The only light came from the faint scatter of stars through the window, distant and useless. A shaky sigh escaped her as she groped along the wall. Her fingers brushed metal, and with a flick—

The room blazed to life.

Relief poured through her chest as the bulbs lit everything in sharp, sterile brightness. The familiar outlines of the dorm snapped back into place: her desk, her roommate’s bed, the dresser. On the nightstand, a half-melted candle stood beside a box of matches, their quiet presence mocking the terror of moments before.

“Luke!” she yelled again, her voice breaking.

Her breath came fast, each gulp of air draining her strength instead of restoring it. The trauma rattled through her bones.

Her eyes fell on the blue jeans discarded near the foot of the bed, halfway across the thin line that divided her space from her roommate’s. She staggered toward them, dragging her feet, the images of what just happened replaying in her mind like a broken reel.

Then it grabbed her.

Hands—cold, unseen—latched onto her legs. She screamed as she was yanked downward, her knees crashing against the hard floor. Her jeans slipped from her grasp. In the brief second before the light above flickered, she saw it: red scars etched into her thighs, a grotesque map in the shape of a palm.

“What the hell?” she gasped.

Her heart pounded, her chest rising and falling too fast. She lifted her left leg, inspecting the mark. The skin was angry red, swelling slightly as if freshly burned.

“What the hell!” she cried again, voice cracking.

She pressed her fingers into it, bracing for pain. None came. Not a sting. Not even tenderness. Only silence beneath her skin.

“This is strange,” she whispered.

Her thoughts spiraled. Luke’s warning—we’re not alone—echoed in her ears. None of it made sense, but the weight of his words pressed harder now, clawing into her.

With trembling hands, she finally slid her jeans on and forced herself toward the closet. A black top lay crumpled near the door. She snatched it up and pulled it over her head, her eyes darting across the room for any trace of Luke.

Nothing.

Only a packet of unopened condoms on the desk—Luke’s last, almost mocking, evidence of being here. No shoes. No shirt. No sign he had ever existed in the room with her.

Her chest tightened. Did he run? Did he abandon me? The thought pierced her, but she shook it off violently. No. He’s in danger. He has to be.

She steadied herself at the door, fingers trembling against the knob. An icy chill seeped into her skin, crawling up her arm. Gritting her teeth, she twisted it open. The hinges moaned softly as the door creaked, the sound echoing down the corridor.

Behind her, the dorm still blazed with artificial light. Ahead—only suffocating darkness.

She drew in a long breath, puffing it out into the chill as she stepped over the threshold.

“Luke!” Her voice rang out, bouncing along the empty hall. “Luke! Where are you?!”

She stretched her hand along the wall, fingertips brushing cold plaster as she searched for a switch. A sudden whoosh of air darted past her ear. Her heart skipped, and she scrambled, fumbling faster until her hand struck plastic. She flipped it.

For a second, light chased away the shadows.

Then dread slid its fingers down her spine. The bulbs stuttered, flickered—buzzing angrily like trapped insects.

“Come on!” She smacked the switch twice, desperate. The flickering only worsened, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Another whoosh. Her body jolted.

“Luke?!” Her voice cracked, eyes narrowing into the dark. “Luke, is that you?”

Her teeth chattered uncontrollably. Goosebumps raced across her arms, her knees knocking as fear rooted her to the spot.

The footsteps came next. Slow. Steady. Echoing down the hallway.

She froze, unable to lift her legs, as if the floor had hardened around her feet.

“You don’t belong here,” a voice sneered—a woman’s, sharp and commanding. “Turn and leave.”

Jade spun, searching wildly. Nothing. Only the buzzing lights overhead.

“Who are you?” Her voice was barely a whisper, strangled by terror. “Show yourself!”

And then she saw it.

A shadow at the far end of the corridor, moving with impossible speed. It surged toward her, growing clearer with each heartbeat until she could make out its shape.

Not a shadow. A girl.

She looked no older than fifteen. Her white gown was tattered, flowing unnaturally as if pulled by water currents. Her long black hair snaked down her waist, framing a face so pale it seemed drained of life. Black ink markings streaked her skin, curling like unholy symbols. And her eyes—her eyes glowed with cruel, burning hatred.

“Bloody hell,” Jade whispered, trying to stumble back. But her feet clung to the floor, locked in place.

“Please—don’t hurt me!” Tears welled as she fought against her invisible bonds.

“You don’t belong here,” the girl hissed again, voice thick with venom. “Turn and leave!”

“I—I don’t understand,” Jade stammered, shaking her head wildly. “This is Kingston College. I’m a student here!”

The girl’s lips curled into something between pity and malice. “You don’t know where you are, do you? You are far from home. Far from your world. Far from everything you think you know.” Her voice dripped with finality. “Turn. And. Leave.”

Jade’s heart hammered. Confusion warred with terror. “Please… if you know where my boyfriend is, just tell—”

The girl’s laugh cut her off. A shrill, mischievous giggle that echoed like broken glass.

“He’s gone,” she smirked. “If you stay, you’ll share his fate.”

“What do you mean?!” Jade’s voice shook with desperation.

The girl ignored her question. Instead, she turned, her gown flowing unnaturally as she glided away. Just before vanishing into shadow, she glanced back over her shoulder.

“You don’t belong here, witch.”

The last word struck like a blade. Witch.

Jade’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Her throat burned, her lungs fought, but her voice had been stolen. Panic surged through her veins as she clutched at her neck, trying to scream.

Nothing.

Her worst nightmare had taken root in reality.

Jade’s chest heaved as the mysterious teenager dissolved into a black puff of smoke. The air smelled of ash and decay, clinging to her throat as she coughed. Tremors raced through her body; fear had sunk its claws deep.

Then—

Whoosh.

The sound tore the silence apart. She spun, her stomach plunging. The teenager had reappeared only a few paces behind, her lips curled into a devilish smile. The glow in her eyes brightened as she lunged forward at a speed beyond reason, her white gown billowing like shredded wings.

“Stay away from me!” Jade shrieked, clutching her chest as her heart threatened to leap free.

The girl’s mouth opened wide—unnaturally wide.

The scream that followed was not human. It tore through the hallway like a blade, a sonic wail so violent it bent the air itself. A wave of force exploded outward, slamming into Jade with the strength of a storm.

She flew backward. The world blurred—wall, ceiling, shadow—and then a hard impact cracked her bones into silence.

“Jade! Wake up!”

A voice, soft yet sharp, pierced her mind.

She gasped awake, her body trembling. The brightness of the dorm swam into focus. She lay sprawled on the floor beside her bed, stripped bare, skin clammy against the cold tiles. Her roommate, Lucy, crouched beside her with wide, wary eyes.

“Are you alright?” Lucy asked, curiosity laced with suspicion.

Jade groaned, rubbing her bleary eyes. “What happened?” she murmured, her voice so small it barely escaped her lips.

Lucy crossed her arms, her tone cutting. “I should be asking you. You’re the one lying naked on the floor.”

Heat shot through Jade’s face. She blinked down at her body—completely exposed.

“Oh my God!” she cried, scrambling to cover herself. She folded her arms across her breasts, crossing her legs tightly to conceal the shame between her thighs. Her voice broke as she whispered, “Did anyone… besides you… see?”

Lucy sighed, dismissing her panic with a flick of her hand. “No. Don’t worry. Male students aren’t even allowed in the girls’ dorm.”

The reassurance only made Jade’s heart twist tighter. Luke. The memory of his warmth, his presence, came rushing back. She darted her eyes around the room, searching desperately for his clothes, his shoes—anything. Nothing remained.

“What are you looking for?” Lucy asked, her brow furrowed. Her roommate’s restless eyes betrayed the truth: Jade was searching for someone.

Panic surged. If I say Luke was here, I could get expelled. She forced a smile, shoving guilt deep down. “Nothing. Just… curious.” She turned her face away. “When did you get back?”

“Not long ago.” Lucy’s voice was clipped, suspicious. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Of course.” Jade’s lips stretched into another thin smile.

Lucy wasn’t convinced, but she let it slide. “Then dress up,” she said flatly, rising to her feet.

She unzipped her bag on the bed, the sharp rasp of the zipper cutting through the room like a blade. Jade flinched, her nerves raw. Every sound seemed magnified, every shadow threatening.

It was just a nightmare, she told herself. Nothing more.

But her heart refused the lie. The scars, the scream, the shadow girl’s eyes—they were too real. And Luke. He was here. He touched her. He vanished.

Her fingers shook as she pulled on her clothes. When she finally slid her phone from the desk, her pulse surged with hope. She dialed Luke’s number and pressed the phone to her ear.

One ring.

Two.

Then a voice.

But not his.

“The person you’re trying to reach is no longer in the world. You can’t see him anymore.”

Her body went cold.

She yanked the phone away, her breath ragged. That couldn’t be right. She redialed, pressed the phone tighter to her ear.

Again, the same chilling message:

“You can’t see him anymore.”

The words cracked something inside her. She slid down to the floor, sobbing, tears splashing against her trembling hands.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy rushed forward, alarm softening her sharpness.

Jade couldn’t form the words. She simply shoved the phone into Lucy’s hand and gestured for her to listen.

Lucy held the phone up, waiting. It rang—then clicked into voicemail.

“Hey, this is Luke. Leave a message after the beep.”

Silence.

Lucy lowered the phone, her face tightening into irritation. She hissed sharply. “So you can’t reach your boyfriend. That’s no reason to fall apart like this!”

Jade blinked through tears, stunned. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re overreacting. It’s the first day back on campus—don’t start drama.” She shoved the phone back into Jade’s palm and turned her back to unpack.

Jade clutched the phone, her body trembling harder. She lifted it again, pressed it to her ear, needing to know she wasn’t imagining it.

The haunting voice returned:

“You can’t see him anymore.”

Her breath caught. Terror clawed at her throat. She bolted to her feet, racing toward the door. Her hand barely grazed the knob when—

BANG.

A heavy knock rattled the door.

“This is the police. Open up!”

Her heart lurched. She froze, glancing at Lucy. Fear painted both their faces.

Jade’s trembling fingers turned the knob. The door opened with a groan, revealing two women in uniform. One wore the badge of an officer; the other held hers higher, flashing it with authority.

“Detective Ann Cole,” the woman said, her voice steady. She tucked her badge away and pulled a flip notepad from her pocket. Her gaze locked on Jade. “We’re here for Jade Billy. Are you her?”

Lucy whispered under her breath, “This can’t be good.”

Jade’s throat constricted. “I—I’m Jade,” she stammered. “Am I… under arrest?”

“That depends,” Ann said coolly. She checked her notes, then looked up. “For now, we just have questions. About the death of Luke Anderson.”

The words stabbed through Jade like a knife.

She staggered back, choking on her sobs. “What? No—no, this can’t be true!” Her voice fractured into a howl as tears poured freely.

Lucy froze in shock, finally connecting the dots. Jade’s breakdown. The call. The voicemail. It all made sense now.

“Ms. Billy,” Ann said firmly, “will you come with us to the station?”

“You think I had something to do with his death?” Jade whispered, trembling.

Ann’s eyes narrowed. “Did you?”

The detective’s tone was sharp, already laced with suspicion. The Dean of Students had told her Jade was the last person seen with Luke. His body found cold in his dorm. And when there’s no clear trail, suspicion always falls hardest on the closest witness.

The first suspect—was Jade.