The nightmare came back.
Lena stood in front of the black door again. It felt hot, almost burning to the touch. The voices on the other side had become just one now—it sounded like her own, but twisted.
"You could be powerful. You could be safe. Just sign."
She shot awake, breathing hard. The book was lying open on her chest, its pages stuck together with something thick and sticky. When she peeled them apart, she saw a map of the Carpathian Mountains drawn in what looked like dried blood. An X marked a remote spot. It pulsed, like it was alive.
She checked her phone. 3:17 AM. The witching hour. The hotel AC blasted even though it had been turned off. Frost spread slowly across the windows.
Then came the knocking.
Three knocks on the door. Then three on the wall. Then three on the headboard—from underneath.
Lena sat up, heart pounding. The mattress dipped beside her, like something invisible had just sat down. She felt cold breath against her neck.
The book flipped open by itself. A blank page filled with words:
Last chance, Keeper. Serve or be served.
She grabbed the book and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and landed open. A new page had appeared—a list of names. Everyone she had ever loved. Her mom. Her college roommate. Her third-grade teacher. All with tomorrow's date next to them.
The air got even colder. She could see her own breath now. The knocking turned into full-on pounding—from every direction.
Then, it all stopped.
Morning light came in through the window. The book was now sitting neatly on the desk, open to her flight info. She looked at her phone—seven missed calls from her mom. That never happened this early.
She answered the next call.
"Lena? Thank God," her mom said, sounding shaky. "I had this horrible dream about you. There was a... book."
Lena froze. "What book?"
"The one your grandfather stole. It had your name in it, and—"
The call suddenly turned to loud static. Then a voice came through. Her mother's voice, but deep and distorted:
"She can't help you. Only I can."
Lena hung up.
She looked at the book. Her mother's name had appeared. Below it:
Car accident (brake failure). Today. Unless...
The sentence ended there, waiting for her.
---