I could not breathe. My chest rose too fast, each breath shallower than the last, as the thing standing before me watched in complete silence.
Nevan.
The name echoed through my mind like a bell struck underwater, some distant part of me still trying to convince the rest that none of this was real.
He looked impossible — the horns curling back from his skull, the ancient weight of his robes, the way shadows seemed to gather and cling to him instead of falling away like they should. But it was his eyes that undid me.
They were not cruel. Somehow that frightened me more than if they had been. Monsters were supposed to look like monsters.
"I—" My voice cracked before I could finish. "You're not real."
His expression barely shifted. "I assure you," he said softly, "I am."
The attic suddenly felt far too small. I pressed harder against the wall until my shoulders ached, my head already shaking before I realized I was moving. "No. No, no—this isn't happening."
"You summoned me."
"I didn't!" My voice cracked louder than I meant it to. "I- I found a stupid board in the attic. That's all."
A silence stretched between us before he spoke again, unhurried, as if my panic cost him nothing. "The board merely opened a door."
"I never asked for you."
"You did."
"I didn't!"
His gaze never left mine. "Hmm, not with words. You did not."
Something inside me twisted at that. I hated the answer. I hated how calm he sounded delivering it. Most of all, I hated the small, treacherous part of me that wondered if he actually was here for me.
What would it feel like to be wanted?
"You don't know anything about me." I said instead.
His eyes softened — an expression far too gentle for a face crowned in horns from his temples. "I know enough."
"No." The word came out sharper than I intended, my voice shaking around the edges. "You don't. You'll just be like—"
"The teachers," he supplied serenely, before I could finish. "Your classmates. The neighbours down the road, who wave and smile and never once ask why you always walk home alone." His voice was quiet, unhurried, terribly certain. "They all look at you the same way. They pity you, Phoebe. They whisper the moment your back is turned. They pretend their kindness costs them nothing. And every single one of them will stop pretending, eventually, and leave."
Heat stung behind my eyes. He'd said it. All of it. Every ugly thought I had never once let myself finish, spoken aloud in that low, patient voice, as though he'd been standing inside my head the whole time, simply waiting for permission to speak it for me.
Hearing it from him was worse than if I'd said it myself. There was no arguing with the truth when someone else had already found all the words for it.
A broken sound escaped me — something between a laugh and a sob. The words weren't mine, but the thoughts were, thoughts I had never spoken aloud to anyone, not even the mirror on the worst nights. I wanted to be furious that he'd taken them from me. I couldn't manage anything but tears.
Instead, they came. One after another, hot and relentless. My knees gave out beneath me, and I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the dusty wooden floor, arms wrapped around myself as if I could hold together whatever was left.
"Just—" My voice trembled. "—leave."
Silence.
"I said leave!"
The thunder outside answered for him. A crack of lightning split the sky, and the entire house shuddered. I flinched violently as rain slammed harder against the roof, each drop sounding like handfuls of thrown stones. The single bulb above us flickered — once, twice — and then darkness swallowed the attic whole. Every sound grew unbearably loud: the rain, the thunder, my own ragged breathing. I squeezed my eyes shut, curling in on myself. "Please..."
Another flash of lightning lit the room for the briefest heartbeat. He had not moved. He still stood several feet away, watching, waiting, the way something patient watches something it has already caught.
Then — one quiet footstep. Another. He crossed the attic with slow, measured movements, deliberate enough that I heard every one. When he stopped, I did not look up. The floorboards creaked once beneath his weight; he had knelt in front of me.
I felt it before I saw it — a single cool fingertip beneath my eye, catching a tear before it reached my chin. His touch was strangely cold, not painfully so, like marble left out beneath moonlight. His thumb lingered only a moment, brushing once against my cheek before I jerked away.
"Don't." The word came out as little more than a whisper.
His hand withdrew at once. For the first time since he had appeared, he hesitated — something unreadable crossing his face before it vanished again.
"I frighten you." It wasn't a question.
"No, I simply can't fathom I summoned a demon from God knows where. So, forgive me if I seem scared out of my skin."
Something almost like a smile touched his mouth before fading. "I cannot change what I am." His voice stayed impossibly calm. "But, Phoebe." He said my name like it already belonged to him. "I will remain. I will stand beside you when everyone else turns away. I will hear every cry no one else bothers to listen for." The storm itself seemed to hush around his words. "And I will always be right here, beside you — whether you welcome my presence, or not."
My breath caught. The light above us burst back to life, and I did not think — I shot up and ran towards the door. The attic door was only a few steps away. I threw myself at it. It refused to move. "No—" I grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled until my arms shook.
Nothing.
I slammed my shoulder against the wood, again, again, but it did not so much as groan. "Grandma-!" My voice cracked. "Grandma, help-!" I pounded my fists against the door until they stung, until please was the only word I had left.
Silence answered. She wasn't home. I was trapped.
My breath came in pants, tears drying on my cheeks. He locked the door. I don't know what goddamn powers he has- why would he lock the door?
Taking a shallow breath in, I slowly turned around, Nevan was exactly where I had left him — watching, waiting, as though he had known all along there was nowhere for me to run.
And he smiled.
"You're quite a screamer."
Then, my vision went black before I could shout again.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡimjVu2ZMR6
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