ARIA
He didn’t say anything else. Just turned and walked toward the door, motioning for me to follow.
I hesitated. Just for a second.
But when he looked back, his eyes were already darker, more dangerous. I followed.
He led me down the hall—silent, smooth steps, like this was routine. Like he’d walked this exact path before.
And when we stopped in front of the door, I knew it.
It was the same room. The same one I’d stayed in the first time I came here.
I stepped inside and he left without another word. The door clicked shut.
I didn’t sleep. Not a single minute. Time bled out into nothing. It wasn’t just fear or confusion—my brain refused to shut off.
Even after he left, even after the door locked behind him, I just lay there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling like it had answers
