Don’t Turn Around
878 Words
Elena didn’t move.
The air behind her had changed.
Not colder.
Heavier.
Like something had stepped into the space without making sound.
Lucien was in front of her instantly.
Too fast.
Not human fast.
His arm came out slightly — not touching her — but blocking her without fully admitting it.
“Don’t turn around,” he said again.
Elena frowned. “Why?”
His jaw tightened.
That was new.
He didn’t usually repeat himself.
Behind her, the darkness shifted again.
Not visually obvious.
But felt.
Like pressure adjusting.
Elena swallowed. “Lucien—”
“Stay still,” he said quietly.
His voice had dropped lower now. Controlled, but strained at the edges.
That made her pause.
Because Lucien didn’t strain.
Not like this.
Something behind her moved again.
This time closer.
Elena’s breath caught instinctively.
“What is it?” she whispered.
Lucien didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes were fixed past her shoulder.
Not on her.
On whatever was there.
Then, softly:
“It’s not supposed to be awake yet.”
That didn’t help.
Elena’s fingers curled slightly.
“I’m going to turn around,” she said.
“No,” he said instantly.
One word.
Sharp.
Final.
But the space behind her shifted again.
Like it heard her.
Like it reacted.
Elena’s pulse jumped.
“Lucien,” she said quietly, “tell me what it is.”
A pause.
Then something in his voice changed.
Lower.
Heavier.
“Something the house kept from you,” he said.
That landed wrong.
Because it implied intent.
Memory.
Choice.
Elena stepped back slightly.
Lucien mirrored the movement immediately — blocking her retreat without touching her.
“Elena,” he said again, quieter now. “Don’t—”
Too late.
Something behind her exhaled.
Not wind.
Not air.
A sound that didn’t belong in a hallway.
Elena turned.
“Don’t—!” Lucien snapped—
But she already saw it.
Not fully formed.
Not fully real.
A presence shaped like absence.
Like the outline of something that had once been human but had forgotten how.
Her throat tightened.
“What—” she started.
The thing tilted slightly toward her.
Recognizing.
Lucien moved instantly.
Between them.
And the air cracked.
Not physically.
But in pressure.
Like something had hit an invisible boundary.
The thing stopped.
Elena stumbled back. “Lucien—what is that?”
Lucien didn’t look away from it.
“Don’t speak to it,” he said.
That was worse than an explanation.
The presence shifted again.
And this time—
it moved around Lucien.
Not through him.
Around him.
Like it knew him.
Elena’s breath caught.
“You know it,” she said.
Lucien’s jaw tightened.
A fraction of hesitation.
Then:
“Yes.”
The thing paused.
Then drifted closer again.
Lucien’s hand lifted slightly.
Not defensive.
Restraining.
Like holding something back.
“Elena,” he said quietly. “Go.”
She didn’t move.
“Not until you explain—”
“I can’t protect you and explain at the same time,” he snapped.
That finally hit something real in his voice.
Not control.
Pressure.
Elena froze.
Because Lucien Moreau did not lose control.
Not like that.
Behind him, the thing tilted again.
And then—
it reacted to her hand.
The cut.
Still faint.
Still there.
The presence leaned toward it.
Lucien saw it immediately.
His expression changed.
Instantly.
“No,” he said sharply.
Too late.
The air tightened violently.
Elena stepped back on instinct.
The thing moved.
Not fast.
But certain.
Lucien moved first.
Blocking it fully now.
And the hallway went silent.
Not empty.
Silent like something had been sealed.
Elena’s chest rose sharply.
“What just happened?” she whispered.
Lucien didn’t answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was lower.
Controlled again.
But different.
“We’re leaving this corridor,” he said.
Elena frowned. “You said it can’t leave this house.”
A pause.
Then:
“I didn’t say that.”
That made her stomach drop.
Lucien turned slightly.
Not away from the presence.
But guiding her.
“Now,” he said.
Elena hesitated.
Then followed.
Because staying felt worse.
⸻
They moved fast through the corridor.
The house felt different now.
Not silent.
Watchful.
Lucien didn’t speak until they reached a sealed door at the end of the hall.
He pressed his hand to it.
It opened instantly.
Inside was a smaller study.
Colder.
Safer.
He shut the door behind them immediately.
Only then did he exhale.
Elena stared at him.
“You knew that was there,” she said.
Lucien didn’t deny it.
That silence again.
Elena stepped closer.
“Lucien,” she said quietly. “What is happening in this house?”
He looked at her then.
Really looked.
And for the first time—
his expression wasn’t perfectly controlled.
It was tired.
“I told you not to come back here,” he said.
Elena frowned. “That’s not an explanation.”
His gaze dropped briefly to her hand again.
Then back to her eyes.
And something in his voice lowered.
“Because you make it react,” he said.
That landed differently.
Elena went still.
“…me?”
Lucien nodded once.
A small movement.
Final.
“And I don’t know yet why.”
- Writer
