chapter four
583 Words
Chapter Four: The Things We Can’t See
Milo barely touched his coffee.
Across from him, Daniel was silent, staring at his arm. The markings had stopped pulsing, but they hadn’t faded. If anything, they looked darker.
Milo glanced at the waitress. She was still watching them, her hands gripping the tray tightly.
“You said your grandmother had these marks,” Milo said carefully. “What happened to her?”
The waitress hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone was listening. Then she lowered her voice.
“She vanished for three days,” she said. “No one could find her. Then one night, she just… appeared in the backyard, sitting in the same spot where she disappeared.”
Daniel’s fingers twitched.
Milo leaned in. “Was she—different?”
The waitress swallowed. “She didn’t remember being gone. But she kept saying things that weren’t hers. Like she had someone else’s memories. And sometimes… she’d just stop talking mid-sentence, like she was listening to something.”
Daniel exhaled shakily. “I’ve been remembering things too.”
Milo turned to him. “What kind of things?”
Daniel didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“Memories that aren’t mine.” He looked down at his hands. “Names I don’t know. Places I’ve never been. And sometimes, at night, I hear…”
Milo’s stomach clenched. “Hear what?”
Daniel’s lips parted, but before he could respond—
The diner lights flickered.
The air shifted. The hum of the neon sign outside wavered. A strange, heavy stillness settled over the room.
The old man in the corner froze mid-sip, his coffee cup shaking in his hands. The waitress took a step back.
Daniel’s breathing quickened.
Then, from outside—
A whisper.
Low. Distant. Indistinct.
But growing louder.
Daniel’s eyes went wide. He shot up from the booth so fast that his chair scraped against the floor. “We need to go.”
Milo’s blood turned to ice. “What do you mean—”
“Now.”
Daniel was already moving, shoving the diner door open. The bell above the entrance jingled violently as the wind rushed in. Milo hesitated only a second before following.
Outside, the street was empty.
But the air felt wrong.
The streetlamp above them flickered. A buzzing sound filled the air, rising in pitch. The shadows stretched unnaturally, bending in ways they shouldn’t.
Daniel grabbed Milo’s wrist. His grip was ice cold.
“They’re watching,” he muttered. “They’re always watching.”
Milo turned to him, his pulse hammering. “Who?”
Daniel swallowed hard. His pupils were wide, too wide.
“The ones who didn’t make it back.”
Milo’s breath caught.
Then—
Something moved at the end of the street.
A figure.
It stood perfectly still, just barely visible under the flickering light. No details, no face—just a dark, stretched silhouette.
Milo’s chest tightened. “Do you see that?”
Daniel’s grip on his wrist tightened. His voice came out strained.
“Don’t look at them too long.”
Milo tore his gaze away, his heart hammering. “Daniel, what the hell is happening?”
Daniel didn’t answer. Instead, he took a slow step back. Then another.
Milo followed.
The figure at the end of the street tilted its head.
And then—
It took a step forward.
The streetlight above them burst.
Darkness swallowed the street.
And the whispering grew deafening.
- Writer
