The Boy in the Shadows

CHAPTER 3 — The Mark That Calls

Ethan didn’t sleep that night. Not a single hour. The moment his head hit the pillow, the dream returned, sharper this time. The forest was darker, colder. Mist hung low, wrapping around the trunks like living threads. The boy from before was there again, standing just beyond a cluster of trees, pale and trembling, eyes wide and desperate.

“Help me,” the boy whispered.

Ethan wanted to run forward, but the shadows that had reached for him before were thicker now, curling around the tree trunks, moving like water. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. Every muscle in his body froze.

And then, a single, faceless figure emerged from the darkness. Taller than any man should be, it towered over them both. Its presence was heavy, suffocating, and Ethan felt his heart pound against his chest. The boy screamed silently, his small hand stretching toward Ethan, as if to push him back, to protect him from something Ethan didn’t yet understand.

He woke with a start. The room was dark, quiet. But the mark on his wrist had grown, a sharp pain pulsing beneath the skin. He clutched his arm, gasping for breath. It wasn’t just a mark anymore—it was a warning, a tether, a summons.

Morning light brought no comfort. Ethan moved through the day like a shadow himself, pale, quiet, and distracted. Every reflection in the mirrors at school seemed to flicker strangely. Every shadow along the walls appeared thicker than it should be, curling toward him, waiting.

Mara was the first to notice.

“Ethan,” she said during lunch, leaning across the cafeteria table. “You’re worse than yesterday. What’s happening to you?”

He shrugged, keeping his sleeve down. “I don’t know… it’s just the dream.”

Mara shook her head. “No. This is real. I can feel it. You’re… different. And it’s not just the way you look. It’s… this.” She gestured vaguely at his arm.

He sighed and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the mark. Mara’s eyes widened. She leaned closer, studying it.

“This is… alive,” she whispered.

“I know,” Ethan said. “And I think it’s calling me. Or something wants me to follow it.”

Mara frowned. “Follow it where?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “But I feel like if I don’t… something bad will happen.”

The rest of the day crawled by. Ethan’s usual comfort zones—math class, the library, even the empty hallway between lessons—felt wrong. The air seemed heavier, and every time he passed a shadow, it stretched slightly toward him, as if sensing his fear.

After school, Mara insisted they walk home together. The town was quiet, rain-soaked streets reflecting the dim glow of streetlights. Every puddle seemed to hide something beneath it, every corner a potential hiding place for whatever followed him.

“You need to tell me everything,” Mara said, voice low but firm. “No more hiding. If this is real, I can’t help you unless I know it all.”

Ethan swallowed hard. The truth was terrifying. He had no idea what he was getting into, but something inside told him that keeping it to himself would only make things worse.

“It started with the dream,” he began. “The boy… trapped. He was calling me. And then I woke up with this mark.” He held out his wrist again. Mara flinched slightly, but didn’t look away.

“And the shadows?” she asked quietly.

“They… they move. I see them sometimes at the edge of my vision. And last night… I swear they were in my room.”

Mara’s hand went to her mouth. “Ethan… this is bigger than we thought. I’ve seen shadows too, remember? You told me about the boy. But I never imagined…”

She trailed off, frowning. The hair on the back of Ethan’s neck prickled. Something was watching. Something patient, dark, and hungry.

The closer they got to Ethan’s house, the stronger the feeling became. The streets seemed empty, yet the shadows pooled in unnatural ways at the edges of buildings and alleys. Ethan wanted to run, but Mara grabbed his arm.

“Stay calm,” she whispered. “We’re almost home.”

Once inside, Ethan bolted the door and went straight to his room. The mark throbbed painfully now, heat radiating from it. He pressed his palm against the skin, trying to will it away.

A soft tapping echoed from the wall near his bed.

Knock… knock… knock.

Ethan froze. His breath caught.

It was the same wall from before, the one closest to his desk. He pressed his ear to it, heart pounding.

Help…

The whisper was faint but unmistakable. The boy… calling him again.

Ethan stumbled back, heart racing, unable to take his eyes off the mark. It pulsed, darkening like ink spreading under the skin. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that something was trying to reach him through it.

Mara’s voice broke the silence. “Ethan… you need to do something. You can’t ignore this.”

He shook his head, terrified. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”

“The boy needs you,” she said, calm but firm. “And if he’s reaching out… it’s for a reason. You can’t run from this.”

Ethan looked at her, fear and uncertainty in his eyes. “What if I fail?”

“You won’t,” Mara said softly. “I’ll help you. Whatever this is, we face it together.”

The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to swell slightly, like smoke pooling in still air. Ethan felt a shiver run through him.

The mark pulsed again, painfully, like a heartbeat under his skin. And in that moment, Ethan understood: this was no longer just a dream. No longer just a mark.

Something had chosen him.

And now, there was no turning back.