I didn't let him finish.
I stepped back.
Shaking.
Not from fear of Nathan…
From something bigger.
Something I didn't want to name.
> "I need air," I muttered.
And I left him there.
---
I walked with no direction.
Fairhill was silent at night. Too silent.
Like the town itself knew when something wasn't right.
By the time I realized where I was going,
I was already outside Eli's dorm.
His window was open.
Light off.
But something inside told me: go in.
I don't know why I listened.
---
His door wasn't locked.
Inside: clean, too clean.
No smell. No mess. No sign of life.
Except one drawer.
I opened it.
Found a small metal box.
Inside:
Old photos
A burned journal
A necklace
A flash drive
The journal was half-melted.
The cover said: "October 17."
---
I didn't read it. I took the flash drive and left.
Back in my room, I plugged it in.
It contained five video clips.
All filmed in the woods.
Night vision. No audio.
In the first clip:
Eli. Nathan. A third figure, tall and hooded.
They were standing around a fire.
No talking. Just movement.
Second clip:
The camera shakes. The fire's gone.
One person's missing.
Third clip:
The camera drops.
We see someone being dragged.
By two people.
Fourth:
The screen flickers—then shows someone holding the camera,
staring directly into it.
Eyes wide. Empty.
As if they were... not human.
---
Fifth clip:
Just trees.
Fog.
A faint sound at the end. A hum? A voice?
No idea.
---
I closed the laptop.
But the screen didn't go dark.
A new window popped up.
Folder name: YOU WERE THERE.
Inside: a photo.
It showed Eli…
Nathan…
and me.
In the woods.
Next to them.
On October 17.
---
I stopped breathing.
I didn't know them back then.
I wasn't even in Fairhill.
I slammed the lid shut.
Then I heard it—
> "Qu…"
A whisper.
Not from my phone.
Not from outside.
From the mirror.
I turned.
The reflection blinked—before I did.
---
I ran to the sink. Washed my face.
My hands were covered in dirt.
I hadn't touched anything.
I checked the time.
3:47 AM.
The exact time the video glitched.
Then my phone buzzed.
> Unknown Number:
"You shouldn't have opened it."
> "Now it remembers you."
---
I looked at my reflection again.
It smiled.
But I didn't.
I stumbled back from the mirror.
My chest was tight. I couldn't blink.
That thing in the reflection—
it wore my face, but it wasn't me.
It tilted its head.
Still smiling.
Then the lights in my room flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then everything went dark.
Not just the lights—
my phone, laptop, even the streetlamps outside.
Total silence.
Until the mirror whispered again:
> "You were there before, Qussai.
You just forgot where you buried it."
---
I grabbed my phone and flashlight.
Still dead.
My breath fogged the glass in front of me.
But it wasn't my breath.
I wasn't even that close.
Something behind me exhaled.
I turned fast—
Nothing.
Just the door… slightly open.
---
I ran.
Out of my dorm. Into the cold night.
Didn't care where I was going—
I just needed to move.
The fog outside was thicker than ever.
Fairhill looked like a ghost town.
No sounds. No movement.
Just my footsteps—and something else behind me.
Soft. Barefoot. Following.
---
I ended up back where it all started—
the old woods behind the campus.
I didn't mean to go there.
But somehow… my legs brought me.
And there, under the trees—
the ground looked different.
Disturbed.
Like something had been dug up recently.
Or buried.
Or both.
---
I dropped to my knees.
Not sure why.
I dug. With bare hands.
Faster. Deeper.
Until my fingers hit something—
Fabric.
Cold. Wet. Stained.
I pulled.
But then I heard it:
> "You brought it back."
A voice behind me.
I turned—nothing.
When I looked back down…
The fabric was gone.
And the dirt… was untouched.
Like I'd never touched it at all.
---
Then my phone lit up.
Battery 3%.
One notification:
> New file received: OCTOBER_17.mp4
I hadn't connected to anything.
I opened it.
It was footage—
from tonight.
Me.
In the woods.
Digging.
And behind me—
A figure.
Tall. Hooded.
Watching.
The file ended.
Right before I turned around.
---
But I didn't remember turning.
---
© Qussai, all rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, or reuse without permission.