Melisa and Moona returned not long after, fresh from the bath, steam still rising faintly from their damp hair.
Both wore borrowed pajamas, too big and slightly mismatched, but cozy in that way only old clothes could be.
Moona had wrapped her hair in a towel like a turban, while Melisa had tied hers into a loose bun, a few strands already slipping free.
"Smells amazing," Moona said, flopping into her chair like she hadn't just been near death an hour ago.
Grandma chuckled softly. "I figured you'd worked up an appetite. Sit, sit. Eat before it gets cold"
We gathered around the table, the four of us. The stew was thick and rich, the kind that warmed your chest as much as your stomach. The kind that made you feel like maybe things were going to be okay, even if just for one night.
Melisa scooped up a second helping before halfway through her first, humming happily with each bite.
"Grandma," She said between mouthfuls, "would it be alright if we stayed the night here? That old Man's not home, and I'd rather not leave Moona alone"
Grandma glanced at her with a raised brow, then nodded once.
"Of course. You're always welcome here. You and Moona both. We have an unused room, you guys can use it, and I would be more than happy if this house became a little more lively"
Melisa grinned, her eyes soft.
"Thanks, Grandma. You're the best" She then raised her bowl in a mock toast. "To our temporary shelter from the darkness"
We all chuckled.
For a while, the table was filled only with the sound of spoons scraping against bowls, soft conversation, and the occasional teasing jab between Melisa and Moona. It felt safe.
But I couldn't help glancing toward the window again. The glass reflected the golden light from inside, but just beyond it, the world had fallen into full night.
I felt it again, something pressing, just outside the light.
Not quite a sound. Not quite a shape.
Just the certainty that we were being watched.
Across the table, Grandma's eyes flicked to the window for a heartbeat, quick, sharp.
She didn't say anything.
Just smiled again when she noticed me watching.
But the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
One thing is sure.
The shadows were thicker now.
Closer.
--------
The house had settled into a heavy stillness.
Melisa and Moona shared the old guest room, the one with faded floral wallpaper and a stubborn window that never quite shut all the way. Moona lay curled under a knitted blanket, her breathing slow and even. Melisa, on the other hand, stared at the ceiling, arms crossed behind her head, listening to the creaks and groans of the old wooden frame.
"Still can't sleep?" She whispered.
Moona murmured something unintelligible, already half-lost to dreams.
Melisa sighed, turning on her side. There was something about the silence that felt too full, like it wasn't silence at all, more like waiting.
In the next room over, Grandma sat upright in bed, back resting against the headboard.
A cup of cold tea sat untouched on the nightstand, her reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she flipped through an old book with cracked leather binding.
She paused on a page without reading it. Her gaze flicked toward the window. The curtains were drawn, but the way they stirred, just slightly, made her fingers tighten around the book's spine.
She closed it with a soft thump.
"... They're here... What fate has befallen my grandson," She whispered, not to the room, but to the presence behind the veil, the thing she hadn't named in years.
Across the hall, Mikail lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. Sleep refused to come. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt it, that creeping pressure at the edge of his thoughts, like something whispering just beneath the threshold of hearing.
He turned on his side, pulling the blanket up tighter.
The wind had died outside. No insects. No rustling leaves. Just the kind of quiet that didn't feel right.
Then, a sound.
Not loud. Not obvious.
Just... The soft click of the old wall clock shows that it's already midnight.
Then...
Another sound was heard.
This time it's real.
Like fabric dragging against the wood.
Or nails across a wall.
Mikail sat up slowly, heart thudding. His eyes adjusted to the dark, scanning the room. Nothing.
Then, his gaze drifted to the window.
The curtain moved. Not outward, as if from a breeze. But inward, like someone had brushed past it on the other side.
He didn't breathe.
Didn't move.
And yet, he felt it.
The shadows were not outside anymore.
They were in the house.
--------
The clock clicked over.
00:00.
Midnight.
A breathless pause settled over the house.
And then, something shifted, not in the air, but in reality itself. Like a curtain being drawn aside, invisible but absolute.
The Veil was gone.
They've entered The Zero Zone.
The boundary between the Real World and the Shadow Realm had dissolved, not with a crack or tear, but with a silence so complete it rang in the bones.
And through that breach, they came.
At first, it was nothing. Just the sense of something ancient and cold brushing against the soul.
Then came the darkness, not the absence of light, but a presence in its own right. It crept like smoke beneath doors, pooled in corners, seeped from the edges of mirrors and windows.
Mikail sat frozen as the curtain inched open with a slow, deliberate rustle. Not pushed by the wind. Not pulled by hand.
Drawn by will.
From behind it, two gleaming eyes, like wet ink, wide and hungry, met his.
He gasped.
The thing didn't move. Not yet. But its presence filled the room like floodwater, choking the air. Its form wasn't solid. It flickered, too tall, too thin, with limbs that twitched and reformed like a glitch in existence.
Mikail fell back on the bed, kicking away instinctively, heart pounding.
Then came a sound, scrape. From the hallway. From the floorboards. From the very walls. A dragging, slithering, whispering kind of movement, as if the house was no longer just wood and stone, but veins and breath.
--------
Melisa bolted upright in the guest room. "Moona," She whispered urgently, shaking her shoulder. "Wake up"
Moona stirred, groggy, until her eyes snapped open. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
--------
In Grandma's room, the old woman was already on her feet, barefoot on the wooden floor, staring at the curtain that trembled despite the still air.
She whispered a name.
Not Mikail's.
Not Melisa's.
But something older.
Something watching from the other side.
Then, from every shadow in the house, they emerged, dozens of them. Crawling on ceilings, slipping across floors, peeling themselves from walls and reflections. Some had eyes. Others mouths. Some were just... wrong.
But all of them wanted.
And they were inside now.
No more barriers.
No more safety.
Only midnight.
And the Shadow Realm made real.
--------
Melisa didn't hesitate.
The moment the shadows surged into the hallway, she summoned her weapon. Light enveloped her hands, and in the next second, a gun materialized in her grip.
Her grip was steady. The gun gleamed with a faint, warm glow of Mana.
She kicked the door open just as the first shadow lunged.
*Bang*
The hallway lit up for a heartbeat, seared in gold. The shadow shrieked, not a sound of pain, but frustration, like light offended it. It recoiled, twisting unnaturally, leaking black smoke that vanished before it touched the ground.
Moona, on the other hand, already has her wand in her hands, her fingers glowing faintly with residual steam and light. With a whispered incantation, a radiant barrier bloomed in front of the doorway, shielding them as more shadows rushed forward like a wave.
The barrier hissed and buckled under the assault, rippling like disturbed water, but it held.
"Go!" Melisa shouted. "We need to get out of here"
Moona nodded, eyes wide but focused. She dropped the barrier the moment Melisa moved, and together they burst into the hallway, weaving between grasping arms and flickering, malformed limbs.
The house groaned around them, not with age, but with something deeper, something alive. The very walls seemed to twist, closing in, rearranging themselves like a maze. The familiar layout shifted, doors vanishing, staircases folding into shadows.
"Shit! This place is becoming part of the Zero Zone! Now" Moona gasped.
Melisa fired again, light bursting through shadow, carving a path.
"Keep going, we don't stop. This place is too small for us to move!"
They reached the main room just as Mikail stumbled in from the other side, pale, sweating, clutching a fireplace poker that glowed faintly. He looked shaken but unhurt.
"I saw them," He said, breathless, not because of tiredness but because the memory of that night came back, "I saw it. In my room. It looked right at me, Melisa what about my Grandma?!"
"You don't have to worry; ordinary people can't enter the Zero Zone, so she's safe!"
Melisa said and then grabbed Mikail's wrist, dragging him into motion.
"Then let's not waste her protection. Move!"
The house was unrecognizable now. Walls shifted when you weren't looking, doors led to endless hallways, and paintings wept shadows instead of dust. It wasn't just a home anymore. It was a hunting ground.
Moona moved behind them, sweeping her wand side to side, each arc leaving behind brief flickers of light like breadcrumbs, anchors to reality.
"If we lose track of each other in here, follow the light!"
A screech echoed overhead.
Melisa shoved Mikail forward.
"Don't look up!"
He did anyway.
Something dangled from the ceiling beams, thin, twitching, and faceless. It watched them without eyes, swaying in rhythm with their heartbeats.
They turned a corner and froze.
The front door was gone.
In its place, a long mirror stretched from floor to ceiling. The reflection showed not their present selves, but versions older, broken, bleeding.
Mikail stared too long and staggered back, pale.
"It's lying," Melisa snapped. "That's not our future. It's a trap"
Moona stepped forward, wand pointed directly at the mirror.
"Or a gate"
"What?"
She pressed her palm to the surface.
"It's thin here. A rupture in the Zero Zone. If I can channel enough mana-"
From behind, a growl.
Melisa spun and fired. The shot pierced the darkness, light flooding the hallway for half a second. But something kept coming. Fast. Multiple things.
"Make it quick, Moon!"
Moona gritted her teeth, magic circling her in spirals.
"Almost there-"
From the mirror, the false reflections reached out, hands pressing against the glass from the inside.
Melisa fired again, this time at the mirror's base. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface, light bleeding through.
"NOW!"
Moona shouted, and the mirror shattered inward, collapsing not into shards, but into swirling mist and a sudden rush of cold wind.
"A gate!"
Mikail said, wide-eyed.
"Go through!"
Moona screamed.
Melisa didn't hesitate. She shoved Mikail in first, then grabbed Moona's arm and leapt after him...
... Just as the shadows reached them.
And the house disappeared.
....
...
..
.