chapter 3 Cross the line

Shadow pov :

I Watched her tonight—longer than I should have.

She always lingers at the window longer than she intends to..

And I know she feels me.

She sees the shadow.

The weight of my silence.

The shape of something unholy cloaked in human skin.

But she doesn't run.

That both intrigues and terrifies me.

Because she doesn't understand what it means to be watched by something like me.

Not yet. But she will.

I was never supposed to return to this place.

But something pulled me back here.

Something... or someone.

Her presence has awakened something I buried long ago—before the blood, before the screams, before the house became a grave of memory.

Now, I can’t stay behind the window anymore.

I’ve crossed that line in my mind a hundred times.

Tonight, I’ll do it for real.

My footsteps are soundless against the old wooden floor.

The house groans beneath me like it remembers pain.

The shadows move with me—as if they're alive, clinging to my skin like smoke.

When I reach the edge of my property, I pause.

Her light is still on.

Her window open just enough to whisper to the wind.

A careless detail. Or maybe a silent invitation.

She has no idea what she's inviting in.

I step infront of the wall which stood proudly between us..

I just jumped on other side of the wall were I landed on her beautiful garden..

It was silent and empty... She stays alone..

It's very convenient for my hunt * smirk*

I don’t knock.

I don’t call her name.

I wouldn't dare shatter the illusion with something so human.

Instead, I leave a note on her windowsill—just one word, scrawled in ink darker than night:

"Soon."my petal...

The paper flutters slightly in the breeze, like a heartbeat.

I don’t wait for her to see it.

I already know she will.

Because I’ve been in the dark long enough.

And now, it’s time to bring her into it.

.....................

Isabella pov : A note on the windowsill

I didn’t sleep. Not a second.

All night, I felt something pressing at the edges of my room—not quite footsteps, not quite sound.

Just a sensation… like being surrounded by breath I couldn’t hear.

The kind of silence that feels like it's watching you.

I kept the curtains drawn, but I couldn’t stop staring.

Not at that house...

But at the darkness just outside my own...

I kept telling myself I was imagining things.

That my mind was playing tricks.

That he couldn’t have moved from that window. That he wouldn't... come closer.

But deep down, I knew something had shifted.

When morning finally came, I pulled the curtain back slowly, like a child expecting a monster in my garden. The sun painted everything in soft gold—but somehow, it didn’t feel safe.

And then I saw it.

A piece of paper.

Tucked neatly on the edge of my bedroom windowsill. Inside...

My heart stopped. My blood turned to ice.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t run.

I just stood there, trembling, staring at it like it might bite. It was folded once, no envelope, no signature.

My hands shook as I reached for it, fingertips grazing the paper like it might dissolve—or burst into flame.

One word. Just one.

"Soon."my petal.  That was it.

Written in slanted ink, like it had been carved from shadow.

I dropped it like it burned.How did it get here? My window was closed last night. I locked my bedroom door......I know I did...

My breath hitched. My mind raced with answers I didn’t want.

He was here. While I was sleeping. Watching me.

Close enough to touch the glass…

Close enough to touch me.

The fear crawled under my skin like frost.

But so did something else. Curiosity.

A pulse of something electric. Something wrong.

Why does part of me want to read that word again?

Soon...."My PETAL "

It felt like a promise. Or a warning.

I backed away from the window and pressed my back to the wall, clutching my knees to my chest.

I should tell someone.

I should scream.

I should move.

But I didn’t.

Because deep down, I think I already know the truth:

This isn’t over.

This is only the beginning...*gulps*

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