Chapter 3 — When the Spirits Began to Watch
619 Words
The first thing she noticed was the silence.
Not the kind people hear. Not the quiet of a street after rain or the pause between passing cars.
This was a different kind of silence.
The kind the spirits made when they stopped feeding.
She felt it crawl across her skin before she even looked around.
Usually the streets were full of them. Hanging off lovers like leeches. Slipping through alleyways. Crouched on rooftops watching human affection like starving animals waiting for a meal.
Now they were still.
Watching.
Not her.
Him.
The man under the streetlamp didn’t seem surprised.
If anything, he looked… annoyed.
“Great,” he muttered under his breath.
Her eyes moved upward.
The rooftops were never empty if you knew how to look.
There.
A long shadow dragged itself across the edge of a building. Its limbs were too thin, joints bending like wet branches. Its head turned slowly, its hollow face aimed directly at the man.
Another one clung to a traffic light.
A heavier spirit dropped down onto a balcony railing across the street, its fingers digging into the metal like claws.
They weren’t feeding anymore.
They were gathering.
And they were afraid.
That was the part that twisted her stomach.
Spirits could be hungry. Violent. Possessive.
But afraid?
That was new.
“You should leave,” the man said quietly.
She blinked. “What?”
“Go home.”
His tone wasn’t harsh. Just tired. Like someone warning a stranger about a storm already rolling in.
But she didn’t move.
“Those things follow people in love,” she said, her voice tight. “They feed on affection. I’ve seen them my whole life.”
Her finger pointed toward the rooftop spirit.
“But they’re not feeding now. They’re watching you.”
The man finally looked at her again.
His eyes held something dark. Something old.
“Yes,” he said.
“That tends to happen.”
Her chest tightened. “Why?”
For a moment he didn’t answer.
Then he glanced around the street like he was measuring the distance between them and the things circling above.
“They remember me.”
A cold ripple moved through the air.
The rooftop spirit shifted closer to the edge.
Its long neck stretched downward, its empty mouth opening slowly like it was trying to smell him from across the street.
More shadows moved in the distance.
She counted four.
Then six.
Then more.
All sliding through the darkness toward the same point.
Toward him.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“What did you do to them?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
But before he could answer, something moved behind her.
Fast.
Too fast.
A hand grabbed her shoulder and yanked her backward just as something slammed into the pavement where she had been standing.
The impact cracked the concrete.
She stumbled, breath leaving her lungs as she hit the man’s chest.
The spirit that had attacked crouched low on the street.
Its body was thicker than the others. Heavy with emotion it had stolen from dozens of lovers. Its mouth twisted into a jagged grin.
It wasn’t afraid.
It was furious.
The creature’s hollow eyes burned straight into the man.
“You,” it rasped.
The voice sounded like broken glass grinding together.
“Creator.”
The word hung in the wet night air.
Her heart stopped.
Slowly… she turned her head to look up at the man behind her.
His expression had gone cold.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Just the look of someone whose past had finally caught up with him.
“I was wondering,” he said quietly, “how long it would take for them to start talking.”
- Writer
