Shadows After Midnight

The party was over. The music, once a vibrant pulse of laughter and champagne glasses clinking, had dwindled to a faint echo in Hana’s memory. She stood at her window that night, staring at the city lights fading into darkness. Yet, in the midst of it all, one memory refused to leave her: the stranger’s hand, warm and steady, catching her before she could fall.

It should have been a fleeting encounter—one of those things that happen on glamorous nights, soon forgotten when the sun rises. But Hana couldn’t forget. No matter how hard she tried, her mind replayed that moment: the brush of his fingers, the weight of his gaze. Only, she couldn’t recall his face. Not fully. Whenever she tried to picture it, it blurred in her mind, as though the shadows themselves had swallowed his features. All she remembered clearly were his eyes—dark, intense, as if they saw deeper into her than anyone ever had.

The following days unfolded quietly, at least on the surface. Hana returned to her daily life—sketching at her desk, sipping tea by the balcony, answering calls from friends who still gossiped about the party. Yet underneath that calm, something gnawed at her. A restless unease. She caught herself glancing over her shoulder in crowded streets, sensing eyes on her when no one was there.

It started small. On Monday, she noticed a figure standing across the road from her apartment—a tall silhouette in a dark coat. She thought nothing of it until the next evening, when the same figure appeared again, leaning against a lamppost. By Wednesday, she began to quicken her pace whenever she walked home, her heart beating louder than the footsteps that seemed to echo behind her.

Then, there was the note. She found it slipped between the pages of her sketchbook, folded with precision. No name. No explanation. Just three words, written in sharp, deliberate handwriting:

“Do not forget.”

Hana’s fingers trembled as she held the paper. The words seemed to burn into her, as if meant for her eyes alone. But who had placed it there? Her studio was locked whenever she left.

That night, she couldn’t sleep. Shadows stretched long across the ceiling, playing tricks on her restless mind. She thought of calling her best friend, but something in her resisted. How could she explain any of this? That a stranger at a party had caught her, and now she felt like her life was unraveling? They would laugh, tell her she was being dramatic. And maybe she was.

But the feeling persisted. Watching. Waiting.

Two nights later, the encounter happened. Hana had stayed late in the city, hoping to drown her nerves in the comfort of familiar streets and neon signs. But the streets emptied quicker than she expected, leaving her walking alone through a narrow alleyway. That was when she felt it again—footsteps behind her.She quickened her pace. The footsteps followed. Her breath grew shallow, the night air thick in her lungs. She turned the corner sharply, hoping to lose whoever it was. But as she entered the dim stretch of the alley, he was already there.

The stranger.

Not dressed in the polished elegance of the party this time, but cloaked in darkness, his figure blending with the night. He didn’t step closer. He simply stood there, watching her, his face half-hidden by the shadow of his hood.

“You…” Hana’s voice faltered. She wanted to demand answers, to ask who he was, what he wanted—but the words stuck in her throat.

The stranger tilted his head slightly, as if studying her. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, steady, carrying an unsettling weight.

“I told you not to forget.”

Hana’s heart thundered. “Who are you?” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Then he took one step forward, just enough for her to see the glint in his eyes—the same eyes from that night. Familiar, haunting, impossible to turn away from.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said, his words like a promise… or a threat.

Hana staggered back, fear tightening her chest, but she couldn’t deny the strange pull she felt, a magnetism she didn’t understand. Every instinct told her to run, yet something inside her screamed that running would not change anything—that this stranger was bound to her fate in ways she couldn’t yet comprehend.

When she blinked, he was gone. As if the shadows had swallowed him whole.

Hana stood frozen in the empty alleyway, clutching her bag tightly, her breath ragged. Fear warred with curiosity, and though she hated herself for it, a part of her longed to see him again.

The city lights flickered at the alley’s mouth, but Hana felt no comfort as she walked home that night. For the first time, she realized this was no coincidence. The stranger wasn’t someone she had simply met by chance at a party. He was something more. Something hidden.

And whatever his secret was, it was now entwined with hers.

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