Prologue

“What we find scary is not Fear itself. Fear exists. It can appear anywhere in any form. The scariest is the human being unwilling to face reality.”

Professor Bridges -

You're not scared of the dark, You're scared of what's in it.

You're not afraid of heights, You're afraid of falling.

You're not afraid of the people around you, You're just afraid of rejection.

You're not afraid to love, You're just afraid of not being loved back

You're not afraid to let go, You're just afraid to accept the reality that it's gone.

You're not afraid to try again, You're just afraid of getting hurt for the same reason.

****

Two years after a harrowing mountain incident where she was the lone survivor during a literature, Reynalyn trudged home late at night from a graveyard shift at the hospital. Exhaustion hung heavy on her shoulders, mirroring the weight of the memories she desperately tried to suppress.

The streetlights cast an anemic glow on the deserted sidewalk, and a cold wind whipped around her, whispering secrets through the barren branches of the night trees.

An unsettling feeling gnawed at her a sense of déjà vu that made her skin prickle. The uneven cobblestones beneath her feet felt eerily familiar, the way they did on the treacherous mountain path that led to her classmates' demise.

A shiver ran down her spine as a chilling whisper, faint yet distinct, echoed in the alleyway;

“Reyn!”

She spun around, heart hammering against her ribs, but the street was empty. Panic clawed at her throat, choking off a scream. In the flickering lamplight, she saw it a swirling mass of shadows coalescing in the corner, taking on grotesque forms that mirrored the distorted figures from her nightmares.

Terror propelled her forward. She sprinted back to her dorm, the shadows seeming to writhe and lengthen in her peripheral vision. They were everywhere now, clinging to the edges of her awareness, warping reflections in the glass doors and the polished surfaces of vending machines. Whispers, like echoes of laughter and terrified screams, seemed to emanate from the shadows, mimicking her classmates' voices.

Finally reaching her dorm room, Reynalyn slammed the door shut and fumbled for the lock. Back pressed against the cool wood, she gasped for breath, tears stinging her eyes. The shadows pressed against the door, their formless shapes shifting and twisting like a grotesque parody of a living thing.

Unable to bear it any longer, Reynalyn pulled out her phone. With trembling fingers, she dialed the familiar number. The familiar voice of Professor Roan Binley Bridges, her counselor, calmed her racing heart a fraction.

"Professor Bridges," Reynalyn choked out, voice thick with fear, "I… I need you. They’re here again."

"It"s okay, it's okay lock the door, I'll be there," Professor Bridges, always patient and understanding, assured Reynalyn she would be there as soon as possible.

Reynalyn collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow as the shadows throbbed against the door. Exhaustion and despair battled with a flickering spark of defiance. She wouldn't let the darkness consume her. Professor Bridges would be there, and tomorrow, they would face this horror together, one session at a time.

The wait felt like an eternity. Every creak of the building, every groan of the wind outside sent shivers down her spine. Then, a blessed sound the slam of a car door followed by hurried footsteps on the stairs.

Reynalyn scrambled to her feet, unlocking the door just as Professor Bridges reached it. The moment the door cracked open, the oppressive feeling in the room lifted. The shadows recoiled from the professor's presence, dissipating into wisps of darkness that clung to the corners of the room.

Professor Bridges, her face etched with concern beneath the owlish spectacles, ushered Reynalyn back inside. With a gentle hand on her shoulder, she guided her to the bed.

"There, there, Reynalyn," she soothed. "You're safe now. Tell me what happened."

As Reynalyn recounted the terrifying encounter, Professor Bridges listened patiently, her kind eyes filled with empathy. The professor's presence, a beacon of sanity in the storm of Reynalyn's fear, calmed her. The shadows seemed to shrink further back, their menacing forms flickering in the dim light.

"We'll get through this together, Reynalyn," Professor Bridges promised when Reynalyn finished. "Let's get some rest now. In the morning, we'll explore some coping mechanisms to help you manage these night terrors."

With a heavy sigh, Reynalyn leaned back against the pillows, a sliver of hope flickering within her. The shadows still danced in the corners, but they seemed less powerful now, diminished by the professor's calming presence. Perhaps, with Professor Bridges' help, she could finally confront the darkness and find a way to move forward.

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