Chapter 26: The Rules to Survive
1213 Words
Chapter 26: The Rules to Survive
Sofia’s breathing hadn’t fully steadied.
Even after the shadow stopped moving.
Even after Adrian pulled her away.
Even after the room fell silent again.
It didn’t feel over.
It felt like something had just begun.
Her fingers were still slightly trembling as she pulled her arm away from his grip.
Not completely.
Just enough to breathe.
To think.
To try to understand what was happening to her.
“It said my name,” she whispered again.
The words felt unreal even as they left her lips.
Adrian didn’t respond immediately.
He was watching the space where the shadow had been.
Alert.
Careful.
Like he expected it to return at any moment.
“It’s learning,” he said finally.
A chill ran down her spine.
“What does that mean?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“It means it’s getting stronger.”
Her chest tightened.
“And the more it interacts with you…”
He paused.
Then looked at her.
“…the easier it becomes for it to reach you.”
Sofia swallowed hard.
Her heart pounded again.
“You mean like what just happened?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
Certain.
Her stomach twisted.
“I didn’t try to connect with it,” she said quickly.
“I know.”
“Then how did it happen?”
Adrian stepped closer again, his expression more serious than ever.
“Because it doesn’t need permission.”
The words settled heavily in the air.
Sofia wrapped her arms around herself instinctively.
“That’s not fair…” she whispered.
“No,” he agreed quietly. “It isn’t.”
Silence followed.
But this time, it wasn’t empty.
It was filled with something else.
Truth.
The kind she had been asking for.
The kind she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear.
“You said it thinks I’m her,” Sofia said slowly.
Adrian nodded once.
“Yes.”
“Then tell me about her.”
He hesitated.
Just for a moment.
But this time—
He didn’t walk away from the question.
“She lived here,” he said.
Sofia’s heart tightened.
“I figured that much.”
His gaze darkened slightly.
“She wasn’t supposed to stay long either.”
Her breath caught.
“…like me?”
“Yes.”
The similarity sent a chill through her.
“What happened to her?”
A pause.
Then—
“She got curious.”
Sofia froze.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her arms.
“That’s not an answer,” she said.
“It is,” Adrian replied quietly.
Her heart pounded harder.
“No, it’s not. Curiosity doesn’t kill people.”
His gaze locked onto hers.
“In this house, it does.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Sofia swallowed hard.
“She saw it too, didn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“And she… connected with it?”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
“Yes.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
“What happened after that?”
Adrian didn’t answer right away.
And that hesitation—
That brief moment of silence—
Told her everything she needed to know.
“It took her,” he said finally.
The words were quiet.
But they hit hard.
Sofia’s breath caught.
“What do you mean took her?”
His expression hardened.
“It didn’t kill her immediately.”
A chill ran down her spine.
“It stayed with her.”
Her stomach twisted.
“Inside her mind. Inside her thoughts. Inside everything she was.”
Sofia shook her head slowly.
“No…”
“She started hearing it,” he continued.
“Talking to it. Trusting it.”
Her heart pounded violently.
“That’s not possible…”
“It is,” he said firmly.
“And you’re already starting to do the same.”
Her breath hitched.
“That’s not true!”
“Then why did you step toward it?”
The question hit her like a slap.
She froze.
Her mind replayed the moment.
The pull.
The calm.
The voice.
Her chest tightened.
“I didn’t mean to…” she whispered.
“That’s exactly how it works.”
Silence filled the space between them again.
But this time…
It felt heavier.
More real.
More dangerous.
Sofia looked down at her hands.
They were still trembling.
“What happened to her in the end?” she asked quietly.
Adrian’s gaze shifted away for a brief moment.
Then back to her.
“She stopped being herself.”
Her heart dropped.
“And then?”
A pause.
Then—
“She disappeared.”
The word echoed in her mind.
Disappeared.
Not died.
Not buried.
Not gone.
Just… disappeared.
Fear crept deeper into her chest.
“That’s what it wants to do to me, isn’t it?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
She already knew.
Her breathing became uneven again.
“Then tell me how to stop it,” she said.
This time, her voice wasn’t shaky.
It was determined.
Adrian studied her for a moment.
Then nodded slightly.
“Then listen carefully.”
Her heart pounded.
Because this was it.
The truth.
The rules.
“The first rule,” he said slowly,
“is never respond to it.”
She frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“If it speaks—ignore it.”
Her chest tightened.
“But it’s in my head…”
“I know,” he said. “That’s why it’s difficult.”
She swallowed hard.
“Okay…”
“The second rule,” he continued,
“is never let it touch you.”
Her breath caught.
“You already said that.”
“And I meant it,” he replied.
Her stomach twisted.
“What happens if it does?”
A pause.
Then—
“It gets closer.”
A chill ran down her spine.
“Closer to what?”
His gaze locked onto hers.
“To becoming you.”
Her heart stopped.
The room felt like it was closing in again.
“That’s not possible…” she whispered.
“It is,” he said quietly.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Terrifying.
“Third rule,” he continued,
“don’t go near the west wing alone.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“That place again…”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s where it’s strongest.”
Her chest tightened.
“Of course it is…” she muttered.
Adrian stepped closer again.
This time slower.
More careful.
“And the last rule,” he said quietly,
“trust me.”
Her breath caught.
That one felt different.
More personal.
More complicated.
Sofia looked at him.
Really looked at him.
The man who locked her in.
The man who kept secrets.
The man who was trying to protect her.
And the man she wasn’t sure she could trust.
“That’s the hardest one,” she admitted softly.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Something real.
“I know.”
Silence stretched between them again.
But this time…
It didn’t feel empty.
It felt like something was changing.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Dangerously.
Then—
A faint whisper echoed again.
Soft.
Cold.
Right behind her.
Sofia froze.
Her breath caught.
Because this time—
She didn’t need to turn around to know.
It was closer.
Much closer.
And it wasn’t waiting anymore.
- Writer
