EIRA'S POV
The silence shattered with a piercing shriek.
A baby sat on the cold floor, wailing through desperate, broken sobs. No one came to comfort him.
The curtains hung like heavy shadows. Shards of glass littered the floor, catching the pale light like tiny, deadly stars. The house looked abandoned, as though no one had set foot inside for days. Dust drifted through the air, cobwebs clung to the corners, and the stale scent of neglect lingered everywhere.
Then I saw them.
Figures cloaked in black moved through the moonless forest like phantoms. Above them, the sky stretched into an endless, starless void. Their footsteps barely disturbed the earth, yet there was something deliberate about their movements, as though they had walked this path a thousand times before.
Soon, they reached the house.
The door shuddered violently.
Then crashed to the ground.
The baby's cries rose into something primal, tearing through the silence.
And then—
A dagger.
Silver.
Cold and merciless, it gleamed in one of their hands.
He raised it above the child.
No… no! Please! He's going to kill him—
The blade began to descend—
NO!
I jolted awake, trembling violently as I gasped for air.
My chest ached. My lungs burned as though I had been drowning.
The baby.
The dagger.
The blood—
But it wasn't real.
Just a dream.
Again.
I pressed a trembling hand against my chest, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.
It wasn't the first.
And it wouldn't be the last.
Since I was six years old, I'd been haunted by these dreams. The first one still burned vividly in my memory: three shadowy figures creeping into my home, their faces hidden beneath darkness.
Their voices had been nothing more than distorted whispers, but one sentence had etched itself into my soul.
They would come for me when I turned eighteen.
When I was little, I'd tell Mom about my nightmares, but neither of us understood what they meant. She always blamed the evil eye and performed little rituals to ward it off. As I grew older, I stopped telling her. I didn't want her to worry.
But the dreams never stopped.
For years, they came only once a year.
Recently, however, something had changed.
They were coming more often.
Each dream revealed a little more of the nightmare—my family writhing in pain, my own body bound in chains, unfamiliar places drenched in blood.
And always…
Those eyes.
Watching me.
As though I belonged to them.
But not today.
I wouldn't let them own me.
Today was supposed to mark the beginning of a new life.
Today, I was leaving for Wisconsin.
Medical college.
Even now, I could barely believe I'd actually gotten in.
"Eira! Get up! God, who else is going to wake you if not me?"
Mom's voice thundered through the house.
"This girl is always late!"
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.
"Five minutes, Mom!"
"You said that twenty minutes ago!"
I shot out of bed.
"I'm up!"
"Good. And don't you dare go back to sleep!"
I rushed toward the bathroom, narrowly avoiding the doorframe.
"Careful!" Mom called after me. "You'll break your head before you even reach college!"
"At least then I won't have to attend!"
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"
"NOTHING, MOM!"
Breakfast was chaos, as usual.
"Eat slowly," Mom instructed, placing another paratha on my plate. "The food isn't running away."
I stared at the growing mountain of food.
"Mom, I'm leaving for college, not preparing for hibernation."
"Very funny. Eat."
"We'll be stuck in traffic today. I know it," Dad muttered, checking the time.
"At least let her eat properly!" Mom snapped, stuffing snacks into my bag with military determination.
Then she paused.
"Eira, did you pack your nightwear?"
I froze.
Of course I'd forgotten.
My brother slowly lowered his glass, a smug grin spreading across his face.
"She didn't. She was too busy pretending to study last night."
I glared at him.
"At least I got into medical college."
His smile vanished.
"That hurt."
"Good. Maybe now you'll develop a personality."
"Enough!" Mom interrupted, although the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "You, go get her nightwear from upstairs."
My brother blinked. "Why me?"
"Because if I send her, she'll come back with everything except what she needs."
"Fair point," he admitted.
I threw a napkin at him.
He caught it and tossed it back at me.
"Children," Dad muttered, shaking his head.
But when Mom turned away, I caught him hiding a smile behind his teacup.
My brother returned with my nightwear a few minutes later. He stuffed it into my bag and zipped it shut.
"There. Try not to embarrass the family on your first day."
"I'll try not to mention that you're my brother."
He ruffled my hair.
I slapped his hand away.
"Touch my hair again, and I'll make sure your future medical reports are written in a language no doctor can understand."
"You're going to be a terrible doctor."
"And you're going to be my first patient."
He laughed, then grabbed my suitcase before I could reach for it.
"Give it to me," I protested. "I can carry it."
"I know. Let me."
For once, I didn't argue.
Despite all the teasing, he was always the first to help me whenever I needed him.
Breakfast ended in a whirlwind of hurried instructions and hugs.
Mom pulled me into her arms, holding me so tightly that I could barely breathe.
"Take care of yourself, sweetheart. Eat on time. Don't skip meals, and call me if you need anything. Even if it's the middle of the night, you understand?"
"Mom, I'll be fine."
"I know, darling. I know."
But she held me tighter.
"And if you feel lonely, you tell me. If something upsets you, you tell me. You don't have to pretend to be strong all the time just because you're away from home."
My throat tightened.
I wrapped my arms around her.
"What if I miss you too much?"
She pulled back to look at me, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.
"Then you call me, and I'll talk to you until you fall asleep. Even if it's three in the morning."
I smiled, my eyes stinging.
"You're going to spoil me."
"I'm your mother. That's my privilege."
She kissed my forehead, then both my cheeks, and adjusted my collar as though I were still a little girl going to school for the first time.
"You're my baby, Eira. No matter how old you get."
That nearly broke me.
I hugged her again, hiding my face against her shoulder.
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you more, sweetheart."
"That's impossible," I mumbled.
She laughed softly.
"Then we'll keep competing."
Dad stood near the doorway, watching us quietly.
He hadn't said much all morning.
That was Dad.
He loved us fiercely, but the words rarely came easily to him. Instead, he checked the locks twice before leaving the house, filled the car's tank the night before a long journey, and remembered every little thing that might make our lives easier.
He was the kind of man who would drive through a storm to bring me home but would probably greet me with, You should have checked the weather before leaving.
I knew him well enough to understand the love hidden beneath his sternness.
"Come on," he said, picking up my remaining bag. "We should leave."
Then he looked at my brother.
"Make sure your mother eats her lunch. She'll forget about it while worrying over your sister."
Mom frowned. "I don't forget my meals!"
Dad raised an eyebrow.
She paused.
"Not often."
My brother snickered.
Dad shook his head, then turned toward me.
"Do you have your phone?"
"Yes."
"Charger?"
"Yes."
"College documents?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Keep them somewhere safe. Don't leave your bags unattended, and don't get into cars with strangers. If you need to go anywhere, let me know first."
"Dad, I'm going to college, not crossing an international border."
"Then you shouldn't have a problem following simple instructions."
I pressed my lips together to stop myself from smiling.
There it was.
His way of saying, I'm going to worry about you every second you're away.
Before I could reply, he reached for my bag, checked its zip, and slipped a small packet of biscuits into the side pocket.
I stared at him.
"Dad, Mom already packed enough food to feed the entire college."
"Keep them anyway."
"But—"
"Just keep them, Eira."
His voice was firm, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.
I quietly tucked the packet deeper into my bag.
"Okay, Dad."
He nodded once.
Then, almost awkwardly, he placed his hand on my head and smoothed my hair.
"Take care of yourself."
I smiled up at him.
"I will."
"And call when you arrive."
"I will."
"Immediately."
"Yes, Dad."
He looked as though he wanted to say something else. Instead, he cleared his throat and picked up my suitcase.
"Let's go."
My brother pulled me into one last hug before I stepped outside.
"Don't forget us when you become a famous doctor."
"I'll try to remember you when I'm accepting my awards."
"Wonderful. I'll tell everyone I'm the reason you're successful."
"I'll tell everyone you were adopted."
He gasped.
Mom laughed.
Dad shook his head.
And for one last moment, our home was filled with the familiar sounds of our ridiculous little family.
Then it was time to leave.
Mom hugged me once more beside the car, whispering another dozen instructions into my ear. My brother stood beside her, pretending to be impatient while discreetly wiping at his eyes.
I caught him.
"Are you crying?"
"No."
"Your eyes are watery."
"Allergies."
"To what?"
"Your face."
I burst out laughing.
He grinned, but before I could tease him again, he pulled me into a quick hug.
"Go, idiot," he whispered. "And call us."
"I will."
He released me, then pointed a warning finger at me.
"And don't let anyone bully you."
I raised an eyebrow. "I'll be the one bullying them."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
I laughed and climbed into the car.
Mom waved from the doorway, her smile trembling around the edges. My brother stood beside her, one arm around her shoulders.
I waved until they grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
Then our house disappeared around a bend.
And just like that, my childhood seemed to fall behind me.
Excitement stirred inside me.
But beneath it lay something heavier.
The ache of leaving home.
Dad drove with his usual impatience, muttering under his breath whenever another driver did something reckless.
"Where did he get his licence?" he grumbled as a car cut in front of us.
I glanced at him.
"Maybe he bought it."
"Then he should ask for a refund."
I laughed.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then, unexpectedly, he glanced at me.
"Are you excited?"
"Yes… of course," I whispered.
The answer came easily.
The doubt didn't.
But what if I'm not good enough?
"You will be," he said firmly, as though he'd heard the thought.
I turned toward him.
"My daughter will never fail."
He said it with such certainty that, for a moment, I almost believed I couldn't.
Then his expression grew serious.
"Eira, college is a new place. You'll meet all kinds of people. Be careful whom you trust. Don't ignore your instincts, and if anything feels wrong, you leave. You call me, and I'll come get you."
"Dad, you can't keep driving all the way to Wisconsin every time I have a bad day."
"I didn't say I would."
"You just did."
"I said I'd come if something was wrong."
"That's practically the same thing."
He gave me a brief, stern look.
"Don't argue with me about this."
I smiled faintly.
"Okay."
His hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel.
After a moment, his voice softened.
"Promise me, Eira—you'll never break our trust."
I looked at him.
"I promise."
He nodded, his eyes fixed on the road.
Then he reached over and briefly squeezed my hand before returning his attention to the steering wheel.
It was a small gesture.
But from Dad, it meant everything.
Six hours into the journey…
A boy sat on a sofa, slowly sipping something crimson from a glass.
His face was hidden in shadow, but his skin was deathly pale.
I moved closer, desperate to see his eyes.
Then—
Warmth.
Something sticky touched my feet.
I looked down.
Blood.
Thick pools of blood spread beneath me, staining the floor.
BLOOD!
"Eira! Wake up!"
I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, my chest heaving.
Blood.
Too much blood—
"Still having those nightmares?"
Dad's voice was sharper than before.
I swallowed.
"W… water."
He immediately reached for the bottle beside him and handed it to me.
I grabbed it and drank greedily, trying to wash the terror from my throat.
Dad watched me, his expression caught somewhere between concern and frustration.
"How many times have I told you to stop watching those horror shows?" he muttered.
"I wasn't watching anything."
"Then what is it?"
"I don't know, Dad. I just dream about them."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he reached over and checked my forehead with the back of his hand.
"You're sweating."
"I know."
He turned down the air conditioning, then pulled a light jacket from the back seat and handed it to me.
"Put this on."
"Dad, I'm not cold."
"Then keep it beside you."
I took it without arguing.
He adjusted the air vent so it no longer blew directly at me, then glanced at my face again.
"Does your chest still hurt?"
"A little."
His jaw tightened.
"Should I take you to a hospital?"
"No, Dad. I'm okay. It's happened before."
"That doesn't mean you should ignore it."
"I know."
He looked unconvinced, but after a moment, he faced the road again.
"These dreams are because of those horror shows you watch, Eira. Stop filling your head with nonsense."
"I had them long before I even knew what ghosts and witches were."
"Rubbish," he muttered.
But his hand remained close to mine on the seat between us, as though he could reach me the moment I needed him.
Then he glanced ahead.
"Enough. We're here. No arguments."
Despite the unease still gnawing at me, excitement began to rise again.
A new beginning.
I had to believe that.
We reached the principal's office a short while later.
Before I could step out, Dad got out first and opened my door.
"I can open my own door, you know."
"I'm aware."
"Then why—"
"Because I'm already here."
I stared at him.
He held out my bag.
"Take it."
I bit back a smile.
There was no arguing with that man.
We walked toward the office together. Before entering, Dad turned to me and straightened the strap of my bag where it had twisted against my shoulder.
"Keep your documents ready. Speak clearly. And if you don't understand something, ask."
I smiled.
"Yes, sir."
His eyes narrowed.
"Don't start."
I laughed, and he shook his head, but the corner of his mouth lifted.
Then he knocked on the door.
"May I come in?"
"Yes, dear. Come in."
The principal's warm voice immediately eased some of my nervousness.
"This is my daughter, Eira Banes," Dad introduced me.
"Welcome, Eira," the principal said with a kind smile.
His calm presence was strangely reassuring.
While the principal and Dad discussed my admission paperwork, I began to grow restless. I wanted to see the campus for myself, to get a glimpse of the place where my new life would begin.
Dad was so absorbed in the conversation that he barely noticed when I moved toward the door.
"Where are you going?" he asked, glancing at me.
"Just looking around."
"Stay on campus."
"I will."
"And keep your phone with you."
"I will, Dad."
He studied me for another second before turning back to the principal.
"Don't go too far," he added.
"I won't."
With Dad still occupied with the admission formalities, I slipped outside before he could give me another instruction.
I tried to focus on my new surroundings.
The buildings.
The students.
The unfamiliar paths.
But the dream wouldn't leave me alone.
Baby.
Blade.
Boy.
Blood.
And the dreams weren't happening once a year anymore.
They were becoming more frequent.
Much more frequent.
This month alone, I'd seen them eight times.
Why?
Why now?
A sound broke through my thoughts.
Footsteps.
I froze.
Slowly, I looked around.
Nothing.
Then I heard them again.
From inside the trees.
I turned toward the back of the campus.
The forest began just beyond the grounds, its dense trees forming a wall of shadows.
I realized I'd wandered farther than I intended.
Every instinct screamed at me to turn around.
To go back.
I could almost hear Dad's voice in my head.
Don't go too far, Eira.
For once, I should probably have listened.
But something pulled at me.
A strange sensation.
An invisible tether I couldn't explain.
I took one hesitant step toward the trees.
Then another.
The shadows seemed to deepen around me.
My heartbeat quickened.
I should have turned back.
Instead, I stepped into the forest.