INK&BLOOD

Chapter 3

I sat on the balcony of my cottage, gazing out over the river as it stretched endlessly into the horizon. The water flowed forward with a calm but unyielding force, winding through bends and narrow stretches, moving ever onward. Somehow, it reminded me of life itself,how we journey through our own twists and turns, narrow and wide, each of us flowing forward until we finally reach the place where we merge into the vast unknown, our own "sea" that we call death. The thought made me shiver, though the evening air was warm. I tried to push it from my mind, focusing instead on the light fading over the woods, their deep green canopies catching the last, gentle rays of gold from the setting sun. The evening wrapped around me like a soft blanket, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly still.

But as the sun dipped completely beneath the trees and shadows lengthened, a strange unease settled over me. The night felt different somehow, dense and watchful, as if it were hiding something just out of sight. My sense of peace faded, replaced by an inexplicable dread. Shaking off the feeling, I told myself it was only the lateness of the hour, my mind playing tricks. A good night's sleep was all I needed. Yes, sleep would clear away these strange thoughts, I told myself. I turned in early, hoping that morning would bring a return to the familiar.

Hours later, after drifting through uneasy dreams, I awoke suddenly, feeling as though I had surfaced from a dark pool. My heart was pounding, and for a moment, I lay perfectly still, my senses heightened. Then, from somewhere outside, I heard it: footsteps. They were soft but deliberate, each one distinct, drawing closer.

My breath caught. I lay there, listening, paralyzed. The footsteps continued, a steady, almost leisurely rhythm. My mind raced, each step amplifying my dread. I wanted to believe it was nothing just an animal, a figment of my imagination. But the sound was unmistakable. They were human footsteps, paced and deliberate.

Slowly, I forced myself to rise, creeping to the window. I peered out, expecting to see a shadowy figure in the moonlight. But the clearing outside was empty, the woods shrouded in darkness. I held my breath, waiting, watching for movement. Yet, all was still.

"Luna," I whispered to myself, "you're hearing things. It's just your mind. Go back to bed." But even as I tried to reassure myself, the footsteps resumed, closer this time, like someone circling the cottage. My hands shook as I gripped the edge of the window, my heart a drumbeat in my ears. I closed my eyes and repeated to myself, "There's no one there. It's just the night playing tricks on you."

Despite my words, the footsteps persisted, shifting between faint and loud, as though the figure were pacing, deciding whether to come closer or disappear back into the shadows. I pressed my ear to the window, and for a moment, everything went quiet. I let out a shaky breath, willing myself to believe it was over. But just as I began to relax, a soft, deliberate knock came from the front door, echoing through the stillness.

My blood turned to ice. I waited, tense, half-expecting the door to swing open, for some dark figure to slip inside. A part of me wanted to hide, to pretend this was all in my head. "You're just hearing things, Luna. Go back to bed," I whispered to myself, clutching the blanket around me like a shield. But the knock had been real, a sound that lingered in the air long after it had faded. And the footsteps I could still hear them, faint now, retreating into silence.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I forced myself back to bed, pulling the covers over my head. I closed my eyes and told myself over and over, "It's just a nightmare. You're imagining it all." The words became a chant, a mantra I clung to as I lay there, tense and awake, until sleep finally claimed me.

It was the middle of the night when I woke up again. This time, there was no sound, no footsteps or knocks. But an eerie sensation clung to me the feeling that someone was there, close, watching me from the darkness. My skin prickled, and my heart pounded as I lay in the stillness, barely daring to breathe. I didn't move, afraid that any movement might give away my presence. But I felt them those unseen eyes, a silent, looming presence that held its gaze on me.

"Luna, it's just a nightmare," I whispered, clutching the sheets tightly, my voice trembling. The words felt hollow, but they were all I had to cling to. Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself to ignore the feeling and willed myself back into the uneasy comfort of sleep.

When morning finally came, a strange tension hung in the air, as though the room itself were holding its breath. I scanned my surroundings, trying to shake off the lingering dread. But something was wrong. I noticed it right away. Little things an object shifted slightly out of place, a book that hadn't been there the night before. It was as if someone had crept in during the night, touching things, leaving silent traces in their wake.

As I turned to make my bed, I noticed a postcard lying on the floor. The image on the front was of Ravenshore Lake a view I could see every day from my very own window. I couldn't recall ever buying a postcard of the lake. Why would I? My hands shook as I picked it up, a sense of unease prickling through me.

Turning it over, my breath caught. There, in red ink, was a message written in handwriting identical to my own.

"When the moon is at its highest peak,

Beneath the stars where shadows creep,

And secrets hide in silence deep.

A mirror to the sky so vast,

In stillness holds the breath of the past.

Try to find where darkness keeps;

By dawn, my trace will slip away."

I read the words, feeling my heart pound harder with each line. It was written in my own handwriting, but I had no memory of ever writing it. The letters were mine, yet they looked foreign, as if someone had borrowed my hand to leave this message.

A chill washed over me as I realized the truth: someone had been here, in my room, close enough to leave this riddle behind. A stranger had walked through my space, lingered beside me, and left a message only I would find. Now, I was trapped in a mystery, left with nothing but questions and the sinking knowledge that I wasn't alone,not last night, and maybe not even now.