Shristi felt a cold hand on her shoulder as she ascended the stairs. A chill ran down her spine, and suddenly, the eerie music that had been nothing more than a faint whisper grew clearer, creeping into her senses like a haunting lullaby.
Her breath hitched. Terrified, she spun around and bolted up the stairs, her feet barely touching the ground as she raced toward her room. She didn't stop until she was inside, slamming the door behind her, her chest heaving with panic.
But then she saw him.
Wick stood there, dressed in a full-sleeved T-shirt, his sharp eyes watching her with concern.
"Wick...?" she whispered, disbelief coating her voice. A wave of relief washed over her, but confusion quickly followed.
He looked around the room before his gaze landed back on her. "Shristi... what is this place?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with an unspoken unease.
Her expression froze. Her pupils widened in shock, and her lips trembled as she let out a horrified gasp. "This... This can't be happening."
Wick's eyes narrowed. "What can't be?"
She murmured, shaking her head. "You shouldn't be here."
Wick frowned. "Why?"
She swallowed, struggling to find words. "Because... because in my nightmares, I was always alone,"
"Wick... when I was a child, I used to get trapped in nightmares like this. Back then, there were no creatures like the one I saw tonight, but there were others. I always had to face them alone... until now."
Wick studied her, his expression unreadable. Then, after a moment, he simply said, "Then maybe this time, you won't be."
She stared at him, something inside her chest tightening.
He didn't dismiss her words, nor did he seem surprised. Instead, he nodded. "How did you wake up last time?"
Shristi hesitated. "Do you remember the necklace you gave me that day? The one with the strange symbol? My grandmother once told me that it protected me from nightmares. Ever since I wore it, I never had those dreams again... until now."
Without a second thought, Wick removed the chain around his neck and placed it in her trembling hands. "Then take this," he said. "It protects me from evil. Tonight, it will protect you."
She clutched it tightly, her eyes filled with gratitude and uncertainty. They decided to stay in the room until morning, hoping that whatever haunted this place would fade with the first light.
As the night wore on, their whispered conversations drifted into deeper truths. Shristi's voice was low, hesitant, but filled with an eerie finality. "Wick... do you remember when you asked about my mother? That day, I couldn't tell you the truth. But now... I can."
Wick's eyes darkened. "What is it?"
Shristi took a deep breath. "There's a curse on my family. My mother... my grandmother... at a certain age, they all just... died. It's always been that way." Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to continue. "I never told Sona because she doesn't need to know. But you… you needed to know
One child from each generation no one knows who that will be but I know that it'll be me."
Silence stretched between them. Then Wick said with quiet determination, "If that's true, then it's time to end that curse."
At some point, exhaustion overcame them, and they drifted into uneasy sleep.
A sudden noise startled them both awake. Shristi's heart pounded as she turned to see Wick already near the door, listening intently.
He looked at her, putting a finger to his lips. "There's someone outside," he whispered.
The sound came closer… then faded… then returned again, like something circling them. Wick tensed. He turned to her. "Shristi, listen to me. No matter what happens, don't open the door unless it's me. I'll throw something under the door as a sign. Got it?"
She nodded hesitantly. "Wick, be careful."
Without another word, Wick stepped into the dark corridor.
He moved cautiously, every muscle in his body coiled, ready to react. Then, he saw it.
A creature—massive and grotesque, its body bloated like a swollen corpse. Its shriveled face barely matched the proportions of its monstrous frame. It moved painfully slow, dragging itself forward, unbothered by his presence.
Wick's sharp ears caught another noise above him. He looked up—just in time.
Another creature clung to the ceiling, its elongated limbs twitching unnaturally. Before he could react, it lunged at him.
Wick dodged, barely escaping its claws. With swift reflexes, he kicked it mid-air, sending it crashing into the wall. But the impact barely fazed it. The creature turned its hollow eyes toward him, its mouth stretching into a grotesque grin.
Realizing he was outmatched, Wick made a split-second decision—running straight past the slow-moving creature and darting into another room, locking himself inside. He couldn't risk leading them to Shristi.
Inside her room, Shristi clutched Wick's necklace, her knuckles white. She could hear something—low growls, strange scraping sounds—but fear kept her frozen.
She longed to reach out to him, but the walls between them made communication impossible.
And for the first time in years, she truly felt trapped in her nightmare once again.
To be continued...