The attic room is quiet, save for the faint creaking of the wooden beams framing the slanted ceiling. It isn’t large, but it’s enough - my bed pushed against the far wall, a small writing desk cluttered with books and loose pages, and a chest where I keep the few belongings that I can truly call my own. The skylight window above my bed lets the moonlight spill in, washing everything in an eerie purple glow. The color deepens the shadows in the corners, stretching them out like grasping fingers.
I change into my nightclothes and sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair. The mattress sinks beneath my weight, familiar, grounding. I should be exhausted, but my thoughts won’t settle. It’s been days since anyone has seen Selene. She’s skipped classes before, but not like this - not without a word, not without a trace. I exhale and push myself under the blankets. The moon casts strange shapes across the ceiling, shifting as the clouds pass overhead. I try not to let it get to me, but the room feels colder than usual. Closing my eyes, I force myself to breathe evenly, slowing my thoughts, letting sleep take me. A sound jolts me awake. Soft, almost imperceptible, like fabric catching on something. My pulse kicks up, but I stay still, listening. A shadow flickers across the skylight. I sit up, my breath catching in my throat. The movement was quick, almost too quick, gone before I can truly register it. I swallow, trying to steady my nerves. My heart is pounding, and I don’t know why. Maybe it was a stray branch moving in the wind, or a bird passing overhead. Still, my hands feel clammy. I exhale, shaking my head. I’m more on edge than I thought. Forcing myself to lie back down, I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on the sound of my breathing. My body is tense, but eventually, exhaustion wins over, pulling me into restless sleep. I dream of the city.
Barefoot, I wander the empty streets of the upper district, my steps silent against the stone. The air is warm, the temperature oddly pleasant. Above me, the moon glows green, not in a sickly way, but with a strange familiarity, like something I’ve seen before but can’t quite place. Everything feels too quiet, but it doesn’t unsettle me. I stop in front of a narrow alley. It feels like something calls to me from within, though I hear no voice. It tugs at my chest, pulls at my limbs, urges me forward. I step inside, the passage winding sharply before opening into a dead-end corner. The moment I round the bend, my breath catches. Selene.
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She sits slumped against the wall, barely covered, her school uniform in tatters. Her arms are wrapped around herself, fingers digging into her skin as if she’s trying to hold herself together. She’s shaking, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. Her hair hangs over her face, shielding her expression, but I can hear her crying. The walls around her are covered in something dark, something smeared in streaks and symbols. I try to make out what it is, but the green moonlight distorts the color, makes it impossible to tell. The air here feels thick, oppressive. Black particles float like ashes in slow, unnatural movements, as if the world itself is holding its breath. I take a step forward, then another, but my body feels heavy. My limbs resist me, my movements sluggish, like I’m wading through deep water. I try to call her name, but no sound comes from my mouth. My own voice is gone, swallowed by the air.
Behind Selene, the wall bears a single mark. A star, a pentagram, pierced by a downward-facing sword. It’s painted in the same strange substance as the rest of the symbols, crude but deliberate. Something about it sends a jolt of unease through me. Selene’s shoulders shake harder. I try again to move, to reach her, but with every step, my body slows further. It’s like time itself is slipping away from me, stretching into nothingness. My breaths grow shallow, panic rising in my chest as the weight of the dream presses down. Then, everything warps.
The world around me twists, colors bleeding together, the green glow of the moon swallowing everything in darkness. I jolt awake.
The morning sun streams through my skylight, casting a warm, golden light across the room. The window is open. I don’t remember opening it. The purple moon lingers on the horizon, its last remnants mixing with the sunlight, painting the air in strange hues.
