The creature hung in front of me.
Mid-strike.
Frozen.
Wrong.
Its body trembled—not like something struggling against force, but like something resisting a rule it didn't agree with. The edges of it flickered harder now, tearing at themselves, trying to resolve into something stable and failing.
My arms were still raised.
I hadn't lowered them.
I wasn't even sure I could.
My fingers twitched.
And the thing twitched with them.
Not moving forward.
Not breaking free.
Just… reacting.
A pressure built behind my eyes.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Like something was pushing back.
My breath came shorter now.
Uneven.
I didn't understand what I was doing.
But I understood one thing clearly—
If I stopped—
it wouldn't.
The realization hit cold.
My focus tightened.
The thing's form warped.
Space around it bent inward, like the air itself didn't want to touch it anymore.
My arms started to shake.
Not from weight.
From strain.
From holding something that didn't belong in the same rules as me.
My vision flickered.
Just for a second.
Too fast to trust.
The thing shifted—
a fraction forward.
My chest locked.
No.
My fingers curled tighter.
Not a movement.
A decision.
Stop.
The word didn't leave my mouth.
It didn't need to.
The space around it compressed again.
Harder.
The thing jerked mid-air, like something had tightened around it.
My head throbbed.
Pain spiked behind my temples.
I staggered slightly—
and it moved again.
Closer.
Too close.
My control slipped for a fraction of a second—
and that was enough.
The thing lunged.
Distance collapsing instantly.
I reacted without thinking.
Not holding—
pushing.
The shift was immediate.
Violent.
The air snapped.
Not a sound.
A rupture.
The thing didn't fly back.
It was removed.
Like something had rejected its presence.
It hit the far end of the corridor—
and didn't stop.
Its body distorted on impact, folding into itself in a way that didn't make sense, limbs bending wrong, edges tearing apart into static fragments before snapping back into shape.
It landed—
low.
Twisted.
Still.
For half a second—
nothing moved.
Then it lifted its head.
Slow.
Deliberate.
And looked at me.
Not curious.
Not confused.
Certain.
It took one step forward.
The corridor dimmed with it.
Another step.
The air thickened again.
It didn't rush this time.
Didn't strike.
Just approached.
Like it had learned something.
My body screamed at me to move.
To run.
But my legs didn't respond.
Because something deeper understood—
running wouldn't matter.
It stopped a few steps away.
Close enough that I could see it clearly now.
There was no face.
Not really.
Just an approximation of one—features pressed into place like they were following instructions they didn't fully understand.
Its surface shifted constantly.
Shadow.
Texture.
Something underneath trying to push through.
Then it spoke.
The sound didn't come from a mouth.
It came from everywhere around it at once.
Low.
Distorted.
Dragging against itself.
"I can taste him on you."
A pause.
Its head tilted slightly.
Like scent meant more than sight.
"His smell is all over you."
Something in my chest tightened.
Not fear.
Recognition.
And that was worse.
The thing's form flickered violently—
edges tearing—
structure failing—
Like it was being pulled in two directions at once.
It took another step—
and stopped mid-motion.
Not by me.
This time—
something else.
The distortion intensified.
Its body stretched—
compressed—
then—
instead of disappearing—
it broke.
Not clean.
Not fast.
Its form fractured from the inside out, thin lines of dim light splitting through it like something was forcing its way free.
The pieces didn't fall.
They hung there.
Suspended.
Burning without flame.
Too many of them.
Too still.
For a second—
nothing happened.
Then—
they moved.
Not away.
Not outward.
Toward me.
I didn't step back.
I didn't move at all.
Because something in me—
didn't want to.
The first fragment touched my arm—
and didn't bounce.
Didn't burn.
It sank in.
Like it had always belonged there.
The rest followed.
Faster.
Not striking.
Not attacking.
Entering.
Through skin.
Through breath.
Through something deeper I couldn't name.
Heat flared under my skin.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Gone just as quickly.
My chest tightened.
My pulse skipped—
then slammed back harder.
For a second—
everything felt… clearer.
Too clear.
Then it stopped.
The corridor snapped back into place.
Empty.
Nothing left.
Like it had never been there.
My arms dropped.
I hadn't told them to.
They just… gave out.
My knees followed.
I hit the floor hard.
The impact barely registered.
My head pounded.
Each heartbeat too loud.
Too heavy.
My hands shook as I stared at them.
They looked normal.
No glow.
No change.
Nothing that explained what had just happened.
But they didn't feel the same.
I flexed my fingers slowly.
The air didn't react this time.
Nothing moved.
Nothing responded.
Just normal.
Just quiet.
Too quiet.
I looked down the corridor.
The wall where it had hit—
intact.
No cracks.
No damage.
The lockers—
undented.
Like none of it had happened.
My chest tightened.
Because I knew it had.
I pushed myself up slowly.
My shoulder screamed in protest.
The pain came late.
Delayed.
Like my body was only now remembering it was supposed to hurt.
I leaned against the wall.
Breathing shallow.
Trying to steady it.
But my thoughts didn't settle.
They circled.
Replaying.
Repeating.
The freeze.
The push.
The way it had looked at me.
Not confused.
Not surprised.
Certain.
Like it knew exactly what I was.
I swallowed.
My throat dry.
"Maybe it's coincidence…" I muttered.
The words felt thin now.
Weak.
They didn't hold.
"…but it keeps happening."
The silence didn't answer.
But it didn't feel empty either.
I pushed off the wall.
Forced my legs to move.
Step by step.
Down the corridor.
Toward the exit.
Everything looked normal again.
Lights steady.
Air still.
Space… behaving.
But something had changed.
Not outside.
Inside.
Because now—
I knew.
It wasn't random.
It wasn't an accident.
And it wasn't over.
As I reached the end of the hall—
the lights above me flickered once.
Sharp.
Brief.
Gone.
I stopped.
Just for a second.
Then kept walking.
Faster this time.
Because the worst part wasn't what I had just survived.
It was the quiet realization settling in behind it—
That something had found me.
And it wasn't done yet.