The girl buried in his dreams

There are nights that fade with the morning. And then there are nights that refuse to end. For seven years, Elias had belonged to the second kind. Every time sleep claimed him, he found himself standing beneath the same ancient sky—one that had never known the sun. Silver clouds drifted across an endless darkness, and countless stars hung so low they looked close enough to touch. At the heart of that impossible world stood a single tree unlike anything that could exist on Earth, its ivory trunk rising higher than mountains while luminous leaves shimmered like fragments of a forgotten constellation. Beneath its roots lay a girl. She never moved. She never breathed. She looked less like a corpse than a memory the world refused to let go. No matter how many times he dreamed it, Elias could never bring himself to look away. Something about her called to him with a silence louder than any voice. Each night he walked toward her. Each night the distance between them seemed shorter. And each night, just as he reached out... The dream changed. The ground trembled. The sky split open. Darkness poured from the heavens like living ink, swallowing the stars one by one. Then she opened her eyes. They were not the eyes of a dead girl. They were the eyes of someone who had been waiting for him. Her lips parted. This time, she did not whisper. She spoke his name. "Elias." His heart lurched. He had never spoken in this dream. Never introduced himself. Never once believed the girl could truly see him. Yet she knew his name. Not as a stranger. Not as a question. But with the quiet certainty of someone greeting an old friend. "You've finally come," she said. Her voice carried no echo. It drifted through the stillness like a forgotten melody, soft enough to comfort, heavy enough to break a heart. Elias tried to answer, but his throat tightened. Who was she? Why had she haunted his nights for seven endless years? Why did every dream end before he could learn the truth? He forced himself to take another step. The air grew colder. Not the cold of winter, but something older—something that had slept beneath the earth long before the first kingdom rose and the first star was named. The silver leaves above them stopped shimmering. One by one, they turned black. The endless sky darkened. A deep, mournful horn echoed across the horizon. The girl's expression changed. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by unmistakable fear. "No..." she whispered. "They found us." Before Elias could ask what she meant, the enormous roots surrounding her began to move. At first, they twisted slowly, like ancient serpents waking from a thousand-year sleep. Then they burst apart. A violent crack split the earth. From the darkness beneath the tree, countless hands clawed upward. Their skin was pale as ash. Their fingers stretched impossibly long. None of them had eyes. Yet every one of them reached for the girl. She stumbled backward, terror flooding her face. "Elias!" she cried. "Don't let them take me again!" The hands seized the hem of her white dress. Another wrapped around her wrist. Another reached for her throat. Without thinking, Elias lunged forward. He caught her hand. It was warm. Real. For the first time in seven years... She wasn't just part of a dream. She could feel him. The moment their hands touched, the world exploded with light. A blinding silver radiance erupted from beneath the ancient tree, racing across the endless landscape. Mountains trembled. Rivers of starlight burst from the ground. The heavens themselves seemed to shatter beneath its brilliance. Then came the scream. It did not belong to the girl. Nor to the creatures beneath the earth. It came from something far older. Something watching from beyond the broken sky. A voice vast enough to shake creation itself thundered through the darkness. "THE HEIR HAS AWAKENED." The words echoed across eternity. Every hand vanished. The tree dissolved into light. The stars collapsed. The dream shattered like glass. Elias jerked upright in bed, gasping for air. His room was swallowed by darkness. Rain battered the window. His heart pounded so violently that it drowned out the storm. He looked at the digital clock beside his bed. 3:17 a.m. The same time. Every night. Always. He pressed a trembling hand against his chest, trying to convince himself it had only been another nightmare. Then came three slow knocks. Knock. Knock. Knock. Not at his bedroom door. At the window. His room was on the third floor. Someone... —or something— was outside. The knocking came again. Slow. Deliberate. Three hollow taps against the rain-soaked glass. Elias remained frozen. His room was on the third floor of his family's house. Outside his window was nothing but empty air and the narrow balcony below, too small for anyone to stand on. Even if someone had climbed onto the roof, there was nowhere they could possibly be. Yet the sound came again. Knock. Knock. Knock. He swallowed hard. His pulse thundered in his ears as he reached for the lamp beside his bed. Click. Warm light spilled across the room. The knocking stopped. Silence settled over the house once more. Only the rain remained, drumming against the roof in a steady rhythm. Elias stared at the window for several long seconds before forcing himself to move. His bare feet touched the cold wooden floor. Step by cautious step, he approached the curtains. His reflection stared back from the glass before his trembling hand gripped the edge of the fabric. "You're imagining things," he whispered to himself. The words sounded hollow. He pulled the curtain aside. Nothing. Only rain. The street below shimmered beneath pools of amber light cast by old lamps. The sidewalks were empty, the neighboring houses dark, every window asleep. He let out a slow breath. A dream. An overactive mind. That was all. He rested his forehead against the cool glass. Then he noticed it. A single handprint. Perfectly formed. Pressed against the outside of the window. His breath caught. The rain continued to pour, washing over the glass without disturbing the mark. It wasn't made of water. It looked as though someone had touched the window with frost. Five pale fingers. A slender palm. Far too small to belong to a man. His stomach tightened. Someone had been standing here. Impossible. The third floor. No ladder. No balcony. No ledge. Nothing. His eyes followed the outline of the hand until he noticed faint scratches beneath it. At first they looked random. Then his mind pieced them together. Letters. Someone had written on the glass. With a shaking finger, Elias wiped away the mist gathering on the window. The message became clear. I FOUND YOU. His blood ran cold. A sharp gust of wind burst through the room. The window flew open with a deafening crash. Rain exploded inside. The lamp flickered wildly. Every paper on his desk spiraled into the air. The room dropped into an unnatural cold. Not the chill of a storm. Something deeper. Ancient. Watching. Then... A girl's voice drifted through the darkness. So soft he almost believed he imagined it. "You still don't remember me..." The wind died. The window slammed shut on its own. The warmth slowly returned. Everything became still. Elias stood rooted to the floor, unable to breathe. Outside, dawn was beginning to stain the eastern horizon with pale gold. The nightmare should have ended. Instead... For the first time in seven years— It had followed him into the waking world. e rain clouds, washing the room in pale gray light. Elias hadn't moved. He remained standing before the window, his eyes fixed on the fading words etched across the glass. I FOUND YOU. The letters slowly dissolved into mist. Within seconds, they were gone. No scratches. No frost. Nothing. Only his own reflection stared back at him. "...What is happening to me?" His voice sounded distant, almost foreign. A sharp knock came from the bedroom door. "Elias?" His mother's gentle voice broke the silence. "Are you awake?" He quickly closed the window and drew the curtains. "Y-Yeah... I'm awake." "You'll miss your first lecture if you don't hurry." "I'll be down." Footsteps faded along the hallway. Elias leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. He wanted to tell her everything. About the dream. About the girl. About the voice. About the handprint. But how could he? Who would believe that someone had knocked on a third-floor window? Who would believe a dream had lasted seven years? He picked up his phone from the bedside table. 3:17 a.m. The screen still displayed the same time. Confused, he blinked. Then it flickered. 6:42 a.m. As if the earlier time had never existed. A chill crept down his spine. He dressed in silence. Dark jeans. A charcoal jacket. A black backpack slung over one shoulder. Everything felt ordinary. Everything except him. The smell of fresh bread greeted him as he entered the kitchen. His mother smiled while placing another pancake onto a plate. "There you are." She glanced at his face, and her smile softened. "You look exhausted." "I didn't sleep well." "You haven't slept well in years." Elias forced a laugh. His younger sister, Lily, looked up from her cereal. "You had the dream again, didn't you?" The room fell quiet. His mother shot Lily a warning glance. "Lily." "What?" she said innocently. "He always gets that look afterward." Elias stared at his sister. "How do you know about the dream?" "You talk in your sleep." His heartbeat slowed. "I do?" She nodded. "Almost every night." "What do I say?" Lily frowned, trying to remember. "It isn't much." "You keep saying one sentence." Elias leaned forward. "What sentence?" Before Lily could answer, the grandfather clock in the living room chimed. One... Two... Three... Its deep echoes rolled through the house. Lily's expression suddenly emptied. Her spoon slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the table. Her eyes no longer focused on the kitchen. They stared at something behind Elias. Something that wasn't there. "Elias..." Her voice had changed. It sounded older. Not like a child at all. "When she wakes..." "...the gates will open." The room became deathly still. "Elias..." his mother whispered. He turned. She looked just as terrified. "Lily?" No answer. His sister slowly lifted one shaking finger... Pointing toward the kitchen window. Elias followed it. Outside, beyond the garden fence, stood a girl dressed entirely in white. Rain fell through her. She wasn't getting wet. She wasn't moving. She simply stood there, watching the house with eyes that glowed like pale moonlight. The same girl from the dream. She smiled. Then, ever so slowly... She raised one finger to her lips. A silent warning. Don't let them see me. The next heartbeat— She vanished. As though she had never existed. Lily collapsed unconscious onto the kitchen floor. Lily's body hit the floor with a dull thud. The bowl shattered beside her, scattering milk and broken porcelain across the kitchen tiles. "Lily!" Their mother rushed forward, dropping to her knees. Her trembling hands cradled the girl's face. "Lily, sweetheart... wake up!" There was no response. Her breathing was steady. Her pulse was normal. It was as though she had simply... fallen asleep. Elias knelt beside her, his heart pounding. "Lily?" Nothing.